Repeating the Past--but One Time a Week

I had lunch not long ago with an old friend and colleague, now retired; he looked healthy and happy and seemed in fine fettle.

I asked him what he was doing to keep in such good shape.

He took a long swallow of his beer and told me: “I asked my doctor what if I cut down on cholesterol, cut out fats, quit eating red meat and cut out the booze, what difference would it make in the long run? He said, ‘You’d probably live three months longer.’ ”

Obviously it had occurred to him, as it occurred to me, that the last three months weren’t going to be that good anyway, so what was the use of self-denial?

That is the attitude with which I begin this new year.

Not that I mean to break all the rules indiscriminately. I won’t eat bacon and eggs every day. I won’t eat hot fudge sundaes. I no longer drink hard liquor, except for a shot of vodka before retiring.

And, as I have said, I am cutting back on my workload from four days a week to one, on Mondays. Actually, this is the first of my one-a-week columns, but it was thought that it ought to be in today’s paper, as a way of starting out the new year.

Usually columnists write about their New Year’s resolutions on New Year’s Day. As I have already implied, I am not making any New Year’s resolutions, at least not any designed to lengthen my life. I do resolve to improve myself morally, though I don’t quite see where there is much room for improvement in that field. I suppose I should resolve to be more helpful around the house, though I am already pretty heavily engaged in changing light bulbs and managing our television programming.

It seems to me that one should look backward rather than forward on New Year’s Day. George Santayana said, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” obviously meaning that by understanding the past we could avoid making the same mistakes in the future. All history is a denial of that theory. The story of civilization is one of the same stupidities repeated over and over. Isaac Asimov dedicated his “Chronology of the World” to “human history: A dark and turbulent stream of folly illuminated now and then by flashes of genius.”

More and more, though, it appears that our flashes of genius are not going to pull us out. Look where nuclear fission got us.

But world affairs are too broad a carpet for my limited sight. What can I learn from my own past year? I am happy to say that I committed only two errors, which is my quota for one year. In writing about my wife’s and my Caribbean cruise, I called a town both Bridgetown and Brideport in the same column.

That is easily explained. I didn’t know whether it was Bridgetown or Bridgeport, so I spelled it both ways, knowing that one would be right.

I’ve forgotten my other error.

Several readers wrote disparaging letters to the editor about my work. (They write to the editor because they hope to get you fired.)

Craig Waltersheid of Huntington Park wrote: “No doubt about it. World overpopulated. Population must be reduced NOW! I say we start with Jack Smith.”

Such a solution, of course, would be hard on me and wouldn’t help the world much.

J. Irving wrote (to me): “Stop using big words which nobody understands.”

My theory is that if I can look up sesquipedalianism , anybody can.

Amy Pape Zampogna wrote: “Is Jack Smith a real person? I find it hard to believe that he could be drawing a salary for his column. Not only is it dry and without style, but his view is both contradictory and misdirected. Is he best friends with one of The Times’ administrators? Maybe his writing is intentionally foolish and sexist and I’m just missing the joke.”

I invite Ms. Zampogna to reread this inspiring paragraph from my Dec. 10 column, about my wife retrieving our poolside umbrella from the pool in the rain while I watched, sipping coffee, from the kitchen door: “Being about five feet in diameter, and bowl-shaped, the umbrella offered much resistance when pulled against the water. Once or twice I was afraid my wife was going to fall in, but she is very strong, and, finally, with my encouragement, she triumphed.”

Now I say that has style.

But perhaps the most provocative comment came from Bill Fowler. He wrote:

“Dear Mr. Smith. I think you are full of baloney.”

As we begin this new year, I urge my remaining readers to keep that thought in mind.