RIVER CITY JOURNAL: NO RESOLUTIONS NOW; TRY ANOTHER HOLIDAY INSTEAD

Or what about spoons that aren't used at mealtime? Talk about an abrupt change in topics. But it is the grab-bag time of year, and this is what got grabbed.

Seasoned readers already know there won't be any New Year's resolutions here. Good resolutions deserve better than the dieting-drinking-smoking promises that are so seldom kept.

Try making resolutions on Groundhog Day. There's a holiday with some grit. Anyone who has ever dealt with an unwanted groundhog -- farmers everywhere are all too familiar with this -- know that a groundhog is obstinate, tough and enduring. That's exactly what resolutions ought to be.

Try making resolutions on Valentine's Day. Promises of abiding love and demonstrable actions are appropriate here. Seek new dimensions. Go beyond chocolate and roses. Men, think mushy. Women, don't be mushy to your man in front of his friends. Simple rules, but important.

Try making resolutions on St. Patrick's Day. This is a time to remember your heritage, even if it isn't Irish. Beside, everyone is Irish on March 17. Be resolved to aspire in the future to the ideals and accomplishments of your forbears. It's worth it.

Try making resolutions on Independence Day. Honor the freedoms that are so dear, keeping in mind that democracy is as complicated as sausage and just as disgusting if you get too close to the grinder. Take care with your Fourth of July seasonings, but don't be afraid to use plenty of sage.

Try making resolutions on Thanksgiving Day. Simple thanks for unanticipated goodness will do. Giving thanks for things to come creates a commitment of purpose and good intentions. Not bad for any holiday.

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The year's end is such a grab-bag time, the lull that comes with the winding down of the old year and the gearing up for the new year. It's a good time to mention something that just doesn't fit any other time of the year.

For example, what about spoons?

That's right. Spoons. They are useful for cereal and soup and for stoking nourishment into youngsters. But if you sit down to almost any meal in your very own home or at a restaurant, you will find a place setting that includes a knife, a fork and a spoon.

The fork is the eating utensil of choice, unless, of course, you live in civilized China where the fork was abandoned centuries ago as a barbaric implement in favor of chopsticks. A fork can poke, scoop, spear, cut, mash, stir, push, mix and, if needed, separate your food until it is ready to be delivered to your mouth.

Likewise, a knife is handy for cutting, slicing and dicing and makes a dandy backboard for holding slippery, rolling or runny foods in check until they are safely loaded onto a fork.

Once upon a time the spoon played an equal role at mealtime. It was used to gather up the liquid remains on the dinner plate. And it was used to cool the first scalding tastes of coffee. And it was the utensil of choice for peas, unless they were first mixed with mashed potatoes using a fork and knife.

Then came etiquette, which is a system of laws that governs meals and is enforced by mothers everywhere. Unlike the nation's failed battles against drugs, the war on manners has pretty much been won. The victim is the spoon, which has been relegated to puddings and ice cream. A lot of meals include neither, which means the unused spoons are neglected and shunned like second cousins you see only on holidays and who burp a lot and always talk about religion AND politics at every family gathering.

Here's the bottom line on spoons: There is one school of thought that suggests you don't need to put spoons on the table unless they will be used for some specific reason. Some restaurants already do this. But in most homes spoons are set out because they are familiar and add balance and abide by the rules of etiquette. Question: At the end of the meal, must the unused spoons be washed with the rest of the silverware, or may they simply be returned to the drawer?

You, dear reader, will have to supply your own answer. Some questions of etiquette still have only optional answers. Carpe diem! This one is up to you.

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Happy new year.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.