Sausage resolution sticks

The Boneyard

Another year has come and passed, and you know what that means — time for a New Years’ Resolution. The history of the New Years’ Resolution dates all the way back to 153 B.C. in Rome.

According to my knowledge, to date no one has ever completed their New Years’ Resolution. Keeping a resolution for 12 months is a daunting task — that’s 365 days! Perhaps on Mercury, where a year is only 88 earth-days, it would be easier to keep a resolution. But until scientists learn how to protect humans from the varying temperatures of -270 degrees Fahrenheit to 800 degrees Fahrenheit, we’ll be stuck with 365 days.

I’ve certainly had many resolution woes in my life. There was last year, when I resolved to learn to play the harmonica and become the next John Popper. But my Popper dreams vanished during the second week of January when I lost my harmonica — or maybe my roommates stole it. There was 2002, when I decided that I was going to be a healthy eater. My resolution was going well until I returned to JMU, where the delightful D-hall foiled my healthy eating plans. There was 2000, when I resolved that I was going to go the whole year without getting a haircut. Threats from my dad of kicking me out of the house if I didn’t get it cut ended that resolution abruptly in early June. And then, of course, there was 1984, when I resolved to stop pooping myself. After 1,042 dirty diapers, I realized that my bowels were bigger than my brains.

So enters 2005, or "The Year of Travis Jones," as many have dubbed it. My Ken Jennings-like streak of 21-straight failed New Years’ Resolutions finally will come to an end. This year, I have decided to please the pigs, cows and sheep by giving up sausage. That’s right, sausage — links, patties, Bratwurst, Bockwurst, smoked, kielbasa, kishka, Italian, Canadian, Iraqi — you name it. As an official member of the Bob Evans fan club, this will be difficult for me to do. "How in the name of Poseidon’s triton will you do this?" you ask? Easy. I have simply done some research to find out where sausage actually comes from. According to the good people at the International Natural Sausage Casing Association, sausage comes from the intestinal tract of meat animals. Hence, the next time I’m at Hardee’s for breakfast, I’ll just think of the "sausage, egg and cheese biscuit" as the "intestines, egg and cheese biscuit" — then I’ll go puke and come back and order a more traditional chicken biscuit. So that’s my plan — gross myself out for an entire year in order to complete my New Years’ Resolution.

And if that plan doesn’t work, there’s always 2006 — when I’m resolving to finally stop pooping myself.

Travis Jones is a senior kinesiology major.