Well, it’s all over but the lingering headaches. Yes, 2011 is history and 2012 has only just begun. I’m sure I’ll still be writing ’11 on checks until around the middle of February.

The question is: How is everyone doing with those ridiculous resolutions we made moments before “the ball” fell in Times Square? When is comes to my family, things aren’t progressing well at all.
I spotted Uncle Ralph walking down the shoulder of 20 South around 8 a.m. New Year’s Day. I stopped to see if he was having car trouble. He informed me that he was picking up trash for the Scottsville Lion’s Club. I couldn’t help but be a little skeptical.

“So where’s the bright orange bag they give you to put the trash in?” I asked.

“They didn’t give me a (blankety-blank blank) bag,” he shouted like a character from one of those “Godfather” movies.

(Needles to say, I’ve toned down the language here so this column could be printed without a PG-13 rating.)

“So where are you putting the trash?” I asked.

“IN MY POCKETS!” He responded.

Uncle Ralph was just not in a conversing mood. He went on carrying out his community work of scouring the ditches for litter. Aunt Flo later informed me that the only litter Uncle Ralph was interested in finding was the half pack of Marlboros he had tossed from the pickup on his way home from the Fireman’s Ball the night before. He had tried to convince Aunt Flo that the cigarettes were purchased in 2011 so he could smoke them in 2012 without affecting his resolution to give up smoking.

“Have you ever heard anything so stupid?” Aunt Flo asked as she took another bite of fudge.

“So did you make any resolutions, Auntie?” I asked.

“Sure did. I’m going to lose 30 pounds by the Fourth of July, she answered as she wiped the chocolate from her mouth with a holiday napkin. “I bought myself Oprah’s diet book for Christmas. Seems pretty easy and People Magazine gave it two thumbs up—or something like that.”

“I see,” I said as I watched her chew another bite of fudge.

“Now of course I won’t be able to get going on that diet until I finish cleaning out the fridge of Christmas leftovers,” she said. “First things first.”

Every year Aunt Flo tries a new diet. In 2010 alone, she tried the horseradish diet, the garlic diet, the onion diet, and the raw turnip diet. Uncle Ralph said she ended up gaining 17 pounds while he lost 32 on account he couldn’t stand the stench in the kitchen long enough to finish an entire meal.

On the other hand, New Year’s Day is Uncle Ralph’s personal Great American Smoke Out. The closest he ever got to quitting was back in ’92. He actually went to Jan. 7 without lighting up. He was doing just fine until Aunt Flo convinced him to take her to an After New Year’s Sale at Greenfront Furniture in Farmville. She went in to purchase a half-priced oriental rug and when she came out, she found him swinging on a swing in the playground with a couple teens from whom he bought a cigarette for ten dollars. Uncle Ralph has little willpower, but he is a generous man.

Cousin Carlene decided that this year her resolution was going to stop letting her car’s fuel gauge fall below the quarter tank mark. Right after I left Uncle Ralph “picking up trash” I stopped to pick up Carlene whose car had somehow run out of gas only eight hours into the New Year. Good thing Cousin Sid had given Carlene a gas can for Christmas. Unfortunately, the gas can was still sitting under the seven-and-a-half-foot fire hazard she called a Christmas tree. You see, Carlene had also decided that 2012 was the year she was going to improve her memory. I guess she forgot.

When I pulled over on the side of the road in front of her disabled car, she was on her cellular phone. She hung up.

“Hey, Langden,” she said. “Thanks for stopping. I’ve been trying to call my parents for 20 minutes, but there’s no answer.”

Uncle Roger and Aunt Ruth had always been early birds so it was a bit odd that they weren’t answering. Later that day I learned they had gotten up at their regular 6:30 a.m. wakeup time, but had only made it as far as the den before Uncle Roger had fallen asleep in his La-Z Boy recliner and Aunt Ruth had dozed off on the sofa. They had decided to give up their Maxwell House coffee which had been part of their morning ritual for over 30 years of blissful marriage.

Luckily for Carlene, her parents’ resolution lasted only until Jan. 3. They decided they needed their ground gold to stay awake throughout the next 30 years of blissful marriage and also to be available when their daughter forgot to stick to her resolution of not letting her car’s fuel gauge fall below the quarter tank mark.

Yes, it is now 2012 and all around us, people are promising to stop their nail biting, get more organized, eat better, jog more, argue less, go to church, go to aerobics, watch less TV, read more, drink less and live life to its fullest. That’s fine, but I beg of you, pick just one simple resolution and stick to it. Don’t take your lack of caffeine or nicotine or sugar or willpower out on me.

My resolution is to love my fellow man and woman more, but if you’re having a tough time keeping your resolutions and your bad mood is turning everyone’s life into a living hell, I promise I’ll fix you the best daggone cup of coffee, buy you the biggest carton of your favorite cigarettes, and order you a case of Moon Pies, Twinkies, and Ho-Ho’s.

No, it’s not that I’m being cruel; it’s my way of loving my fellow man and woman instead of knocking the heck out of them during the course of 2012 as they try to stay true to their ridiculous resolutions.