by Jay Jamison
New Year’s resolutions are elements of annual to-do lists. Popular New Year’s resolutions include losing weight, exercising more, and cutting back or even eliminating bad habits like smoking, excessive drinking and fatty foods, among others. It’s funny how the same items seem to appear on the list every year. The success rate of achieving these goals may best be exemplified by a joke I spotted on the internet a few weeks ago. It was the announcement of a new fitness center to be opened in the new year. Two weeks after opening, the fitness center will be miraculously transformed into a wine bar for the remainder of the year.
So much for the list of resolutions for many of us. The only thing that remains is the list itself. I find that as I grow older, I compile more and more lists, and I also become aware of many lists compiled by others.
Take shopping, for instance. When I was a young college student, the shopping list was so short, I didn’t even need to write it down: chips, beer — that’s it. Now, I wouldn’t dream of going to the grocery store without a list. In columnar form, I list the items I plan to buy, after checking my refrigerator, pantry, medicine cabinet and other repositories of consumables in my house. The list can be long, but in recent years I’ve noticed two things are often missing: chips and beer (I confess that there is a special chapel downtown, where I get libations on tap, thus fulfilling my dietary grain group obligations). So, in a way, beer remains on my list.
Whenever I travel, I put together a list of things to pack and things that need doing before my departure. Instead of re-inventing the list every time I’m about to hit the road, I made a document on Microsoft Word, listing all the usual things I need for trips. All I need to do is print out the list, complete with little boxes next to each item to be checked-off.
It’s surprising how often lists govern our lives and sometimes influence our attitudes. Some people not only have lists for packing for trips, but they may also have lists for their car, including scheduled oil changes, tire pressure, emergency equipment and, of course, fuel.
Then there are those lists that are designed to influence attitudes. Just think of the innumerable ranking lists, the top ten this or that. It seems that there is a ranking list for just about everything imaginable, from products, to services, to attitudes themselves, as compiled by polling results. These lists are designed to influence your buying habits and even your voting habits.
There are lists of things to avoid, but I think most lists are action items, providing one with a sense of mission. “Here are the things I need to buy today,” or, “Here’s what I intend to accomplish today.” Having lists gives us a sense of having a plan, even if it only amounts to a cryptic series of bullet points. I don’t put together lists for everything I do. Believe it or not, I do have moments of spontaneity. On the other hand, for those of us who hate shopping, there are few tortures as excruciating as shopping with someone who doesn’t have a list, written or memorized. The aimless meandering through the aisles is maddening. Is it any wonder that those who seem to have no sense of direction or aim are sometimes referred to as listless?
