Top 10 Things I should'a done, but didn't do, in 2013

I should'a...


1. Fixed the glitch that freezes my computer 15 times per day, because it has the runs for some script. It would take 2 minutes to fix. But I didn't bother. Instead, I'd hit Yes, dump out of the site and start over. The Internet should do something about this. It's losing customers.

2. Grown a beard. Why not? About three months ago, a doohickey-carbunkle popped up on the right side of my face - not squeezable - and it'll never leave, so I should grow something and do a cheek comb-over. But I hate the itchy beard phase, scratching your neck all day. Plus, the self-image: People see me and think: "Look, it's a bearded man!" I'm not a bearded man, dammit. I'm a human being!

3. Cleaned the gas grill. It's a disgrace. I shouldn't eat the food. The grease down there has formed a coal-like planet. It needs to go through a car wash. The ignition switch doesn't work. I flip lit matches into the chamber. But I only notice the problem when I'm hungry, and it's too late to mount a cleaning project. Someday,  you'll hear that all of Syracuse has disappeared into a fireball, and it'll be my gas grill. 

4. Taken up Twitter. People say, "You belong on Twitter.! You'll have a million fans!" Yeah, right. I have a Twitter account. The last peep, or tweet, was last spring. Waste of time. I'd try to be whimsical, hilarious. Mowing the lawn, something would pop into my head. I'd say, "HOLY CRAP, I GOTTA TWEET THAT!" By the time I found my phone, I'd forget what it was. 

5. Lost 15 pounds. If I lost 15 pounds, I could wear my best cool t-shirts and faded jeans, which currently do not fit. I only have one pair of jeans, which are ghetto cut, because I bought them in a flea market. I'm constantly hoisting them up. Why not buy a good pair? Because when I go to the store, I think, "Screw this! I'll lose 15 pounds and fit back into the good jeans." I'm not ready to give up my dream.

6. Dropped the Yankees. Like a bag of rocks. Last winter, when Hal Steinbrenner said the Yankees were cutting payroll, I should have said, "Eat me, Hal," and turned this blog into a Senta Berger fan site. All year, I raged about the cheapskate Yankees, and it did no good. It sucks when a billionaire is trying to make more money. Good grief, it's not like Hal inherited a pizza parlor. It's the frickin' New York Yankees! It didn't work, either. Hal not only lost on the field, but the Yankees lost attendance, TV ratings and stature. They wasted their year, and mine. I should have  dropped the team and followed soccer, or movies, or Senta (in photo with Man from UNCLE.)

7. Watched Silver Linings Playbook. Everybody says, "Seely, you gotta see Silver Linings Playbook. It's about an obsessed, wacko, nut-job loser creepy fan, just like you." I messed up. I put in a "hold" on the Onondaga County Library system, and I had the video for a week. But it was late August, friends visiting, schedules crashing, and I never got around to watching. I ended up paying a $2.50 fine, for nothing. It pissed me off. I said, "The hell with Silver Linings Playbook! I'll never watch it, ever!" Which is stupid.

8. Gone to see Neko Case in Ithaca. She's a great alt-country singer. Her band, The New Pornographers, is a great alt-rock band. A few months ago, she appeared in Ithaca, an alt-50 minute drive. But all my friends just said, "Who the hell is Neko Case? Call me when Poison, or Benny Mardones, or Mary Chapin Carpenter is playing, and then I'll go." I'll be goddammed if I'm driving to Ithaca to see Mary Effing Chapin Carpenter or Karen Chapin Carpenter.

9. Bought the Joba Chamberlain Yankee jersey at the flea market. It was XL, cotton, No. 62, and the guy wanted just $40 bucks. I could be in it now. Driving home, I realized my monumental mistake. I knew that jersey wouldn't be there again - and it wasn't; somebody grabbed it. It was my worst shopping lapse since visiting a town of Pompey Center craft barn and finding a gourd hand-painted to look like Lawrence Taylor for $15 and saying, "Fifteen dollars? I can't afford that!" It still haunts me. 

10. Become pen pals with some great celebrity. Every year, I think of writing an incredibly thoughtful letter to Bruce, or Sting, or Sly Stallone, somebody - which is so articulate and wise that it launches a long-distance, intellectual relationship. (I wouldn't try this with Gwen Ifill or Jamie Lee Curtis , because I don't want sex to get in the way.) I'd write such a compelling letter that the personal assistant would say, "Mr. Springsteen, you gotta read this." Bruce would say, "Wow, this guy is my Noam Chomsky! I gotta write him back!"  We'd become pals. One day, my phone would ring. Bruce would want me at his show in Madison Square Garden. I'd say, "Better idea: You and Patty! My house! Backyard barbecue! And don't you dare bring a guitar, because this won't be one of "those" evenings. (We'll have talked about this.) They'll come. I'll invite a few buddies. We'll listen to John Sterling on the radio! He'll have such a great time that it becomes an annual event! Next year, he'll bring Bono, maybe even Jamie Lee Curtis! Why didn't I write that letter? WHAT THE HELL WAS WRONG WITH ME?