For Thursday, Jan 6, 2000 Drummer column, Gibbs, 730 words

Happy Tuesday!

Wow. Historic times we live in. The Y2K bug was stillborn. Now we can focus on the real concern -- the alignment of the planets in May.

I noticed there wasn't a lot of talk this year about resolutions. People were distracted. It was as if no one was sure they would be around to follow them through. Why quit smoking, eating sugar and animal fat, and drinking pixilating spirits if the world's curtains are closing? Live it up.

I didn't have any resolutions either. I prune forgot about them. Now. I'm feeling a bit of remorse. Perhaps I will concoct something new this year to distance me from perdition.

I propose a Leap Year Resolution. It will be reserved for serious decisions. It has greater commitment value because it is four times more rare than a New Year's Resolution

Of course, It's hard to beat a Millennial New Year for rarity, but if you missed this one in making resolutions, it will be even harder to wait for the next one. Join me now in this new Leap Year Resolution.

Let's see. What can we quit or start doing to improve our lives? Save the ozone. Save the air. Save the water. Save the land. Save the rainforests. Save the whales and the fireflies. Save energy. Save money. Saving is good. We can save stuff. Let us all vow to begin saving everything starting in a couple of months.

Individually, we'll need to make our own decisions. I intend to try even harder to enjoy every minute of every day to its fullest, to smell the roses and the coffee, to never wish my life away, to never long for a weekend or a holiday or a vacation (too much), but to enjoy every Tuesday evening and Thursday afternoon and Monday morning. I will try harder to live every day like it's my first and my last. I will miss fewer opportunities to thank people and compliment them.

I will email my mother more often. I will call her more often and talk longer. I will reach out to every member of my extended family and work to hold us closer together, except for the jerks. I will embrace the earth I live on and continue to explore its natural wonders. Like bears, I will go in the woods.

I will show respect for every living creature, even potato bugs. I will continue to escort spiders outside cushioned in a wad of toilet paper, rather than mashing and flushing them with careless abandon.

Did you ever notice how when people are interviewed in the media shortly after a life-threatening experience -- a wet kiss from the maw of death -- they almost always say the same thing: "It made me appreciate my life even more. I'm going to enjoy every minute from here on in."

This makes me wonder what life is like for those who have never almost died. Are they blasé? Apathetic? "Hey, Joey, take a walk. You've been sitting on the porch for seven years."

Two days later we see Joey with his bags packed for a boat ride to India. Why? His porch caught on fire while he was asleep and a beam almost fell on him and the fire department sprayed him and his electric radio at the same time. Suddenly, Joey has an urge to see the world. What's with that?

Personally, I have counted the maw's molars. I have smelled its sulfurous breath. And I've repeated those same words: "I'm living on borrowed time. I'm going to enjoy every minute from here on in," repeatedly.

Always, a few uneventful years tick by and the porch looms larger and the swing slows down like tired pendulum balls.

I need a reminder every four years. I need a Resolution to remember how precious life is, how brief it lasts, and how wonderful it can be when we seek its treasures.

I will call it my Leap into Life Resolution. I will celebrate it by sitting on my porch all day, right after work. However, I will not simply be sitting on my porch numb to my surroundings. I will sit on my porch fully alert and aware of my surroundings. I will acknowledge my mortality and contemplate infinity until about 4:30 when it starts to get cold. Then I'll go in and read the news.