Column: You call that an excuse?

Research shows that 80 percent of New Year’s resolutions are broken by Valentine’s Day, possibly more if one of your resolutions was not to forget Valentine’s Day. And when we break them, we invariably fall back on the same tired, old excuses as to why we couldn’t follow through. Which can only mean one thing: We as a society need to buckle down and, working together, come up with better excuses.

With that in mind, I’ve taken 10 of the most popular resolutions and formulated new, improved justifications to use with our friends and neighbors after we inevitably fail miserably sometime between now and Feb. 14, if not sooner. Use these and you may not become thinner, healthier and wealthier, but you also might not feel quite as bad about it.

1) Lose weight. Previous excuse: My schedule just didn’t allow for healthy food choices. What previous excuse meant: I was hungry. New, improved excuse: With people starving in Africa, who am I to stop eating Ring Dings?

2) Quit smoking.Previous excuse: I wanted to, but I’m addicted and I can’t help myself. What previous excuse meant: Without cigarettes how am I supposed to get through my days surrounded by all these morons? New, improved excuse: They discovered nicotine is good for you — seriously, I’ll send you the link.

3) Learn something new. Previous excuse: I just didn’t have the time or money to take classes. What previous excuse meant: “Dancing With The Stars” was on. New, improved excuse: It turns out I already know everything.

4) Get out of debt. Previous excuse: I tried, but everything’s so expensive it’s impossible to keep up in this economy. What previous excuse meant: I needed a TV that would take up an entire wall. New, improved excuse: It’s the 1 percent’s fault!

5) Spend more time with family. Previous excuse: It’s impossible to have much family time when work places such demands on me. What previous excuse meant: Leave me alone, I’m watching the giant TV I charged at Best Buy last week. New, improved excuse: My family is dead to me! It’s a long story.

6) Travel to new places. Previous excuse: I had too many obligations at home. What previous excuse meant: Who needs travel when you’ve got a giant TV? New, improved excuse: Taking off my shoes at the airport means letting the terrorists win.

7) Be less stressed. Previous excuse: I’m a very important person with a lot of demands on me, so it’s tough to de-stress. What previous excuse meant: I’m not actually that stressed, I’m just pretending to be so everyone will think I’m important. New, improved excuse: You’d be stressed too if you knew what I knew about the gaps in our national security. But I’ve already said too much.

8) Volunteer. Previous excuse: I can’t seem to find the right volunteer opportunity to fit my background and schedule. What previous excuse meant: Poor people make me uncomfortable. New, improved excuse: I couldn’t pass the background check. It’s a long story.

9) Get a better job. Previous excuse: There are just no good jobs out there in this economy. What previous excuse meant: If I had to ask any of my previous supervisors for a recommendation they would just laugh until tears poured down their cheeks. New, improved excuse: It’s the 1 percent’s fault!

10) Drink less. Previous excuse: I’m a very important person with a lot of demands on me, so I need a drink now and again to unwind. What previous excuse meant: “I love you, man!! BLEAGHGHGHGH!” New, improved excuse: They discovered alcohol is good for you — seriously, I’ll send you the BLEAGHGHGHGH!

Peter Chianca is editor in chief for GateHouse Media New England’s north-of-Boston newspapers and websites. Follow him on Twitter at twitter.com/pchianca.

COLUMN: You say you want a resolution?

You’ll recall how around this time last year, I resolved that in 2009 I would become “a spectacularly wealthy icon of material success.” As you may have gathered, things didn’t quite work out that way, or else instead of typing this I’d be out stomping on all the little people.

Yes, I was once again frustrated by my own lack of ability to keep a simple New Year’s resolution. This is a common problem, since New Year’s resolutions are actually just little lies we tell ourselves to make ourselves feel better about facing the coming year. You know, things like “I’m going to lose weight!” or “I’m going to get organized!” or “People like me!”

So instead of shooting for some pie-in-the-sky goal like good health or better work habits, I decided that this year I’d resolve to be more realistic, and try for the following:

1) Watch more TV. I used to love TV; I loved TV like a seagull loves a half-eaten bag of Cheetos, or like Lady Gaga loves walking around with entire live animals on her head. As a kid, I looked forward with breathless anticipation to the edition of the TV Guide that previewed all the new Saturday morning cartoons; I would sit there for hours with a Magic Marker circling the shows I planned to watch, until it was time for the neighborhood jocks to come to my house and give me noogies.

But sadly, I’ve somehow gotten away from television — for the first time in my life, there’s no show that I watch regularly. This is because my prime-time hours are now spent getting the kids to bed, working on various side projects (such as the comic strip I’m developing about a cat who loves lasagna), and writing my novel, by which I mean, “illegally downloading music.” And also, I’m concerned that TV now stinks like Fred Sanford’s backyard.

Still, I hear shows like “Mad Men,” “True Blood” and “Modern Family” are all worth my time, even if none of them happens to feature a character named Wojciehowicz. (I also have high hopes for this “Jersey Shore” program. It looks classy.) So if you need me, I’ll be on the couch, remote in hand. The kids can get themselves to bed for a change.

2) Eat more. Every year I make the mistake of resolving to eat less — specifically, less cake, less cookies, less pizza with sausage and meatballs, less deep fried seafood, french fries and onion rings washed down by a giant glass of Coke with ice … Mmm, onion rings and Coke … I’m sorry, what were we talking about?

Oh, right, eating less. Whenever I resolve on Jan. 1 that from here on in nothing will cross my lips that isn’t green and leafy, by Jan. 2 my stomach cavity is reverberating like Chuck Barris is down there banging on a little gong. By the 3rd I’m starting to picture skinny people as giant hot dogs and heavy people as hamburgers, like castaways in a Looney Tunes cartoon, and by the end of the week I’ve woken up naked in the bakery aisle at DeMoulas, surrounded by crumpled Ring Ding wrappers and knowing that something’s gone horribly wrong.

So this year I’m going to go the opposite route and pledge to eat just a little bit more of everything, so I don’t wind up eating too much of any one thing. And as for the extra calories, I’m going to make up for them by doing more exercise! By which I mean, “illegally downloading music.”

3) Be less organized. Every year I resolve to eliminate the eight to 12 piles of old memos, outdated printouts and vintage newspapers that have taken up residence on my desk, or at least to give them helpful names to remember them by. (This way when I need something I can say to myself, “Ah, I think I left that one in Fred,” etc.)

Since by the end of the year I invariably have more piles than when I started, I’ve decided this year to abandon any semblance of order and spend the year gradually devolving into chaos. In fact, all this making of deadlines and naming of piles may be exactly what’s holding me back — if I free myself up from the psychic manacles of conventional organization, I may actually have the wherewithal I need to truly excel. Maybe even become a spectacularly wealthy icon of material success.

Also, “People like me!”

This column appeared originally in North Shore Sunday. Peter Chianca is a managing editor for GateHouse Media New England. Follow him on Twitter at twitter.com/pchianca. To receive At Large by e-mail, write to info@chianca-at-large.com, with the subject line “SUBSCRIBE.”