I heard that 2014 has been declared the Year of the Baby Boomer (those born between 1946 and 1964) since the babies of our group are turning 50 this year.

It’s about time boomers got some respect. We’re been maligned as a selfish, greedy, statin-sucking bunch of buffoons who type with our thumbs.  In keeping with that reputation I’m making a different sort of New Year’s resolutions.

When someone asked me today if I’ve made my new year’s resolutions yet, I made a sound kind of like “Umpff.” I’ve been making the same resolutions since I was old enough to write and never once have I kept them past January 10. What’s the point?

On second thought, I think I will make some brand new resolutions befitting a good boomer – no more droll activities like losing weight, joining a gym, giving up sugar or getting organized. My brand new resolutions will celebrate my baby boomer status and the changes which keep racing toward me as I shoo away the devil of aging.

I will never, ever drink from a sippy cup when my boys toss me in the “home.” I will slosh back martinis whenever I feel like it. (Make a note to find a trusted younger friend to sneak in the recipe and ingredients for martinis.);

I will never ever wear another pair of four-inch stilettos with pointy toes, opting instead for my furry, squishy, comfy Uggs summer and winter and black tie affairs;

I will drive by a fitness center at least once a month;

I will dump everything beige in my life including food and clothing and declare orange and hot pink (preferably worn together) as the “it” colors for 2014;

I will stop sitting in my PJs until noon and just go back to bed;

I will replace the gas nozzle before driving away from the pump;

I’ll eat more chocolate – studies show its good for your brain and your heart;

I will beef up my profile on “Facial Book” with total lies;

And lastly, I will find a new photo for my newspaper columns – preferably one made this century.