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Imrem: It's time once again for resolutions, 2016 style

At this time every year, we silly Americans resolve all sorts of resolutions that we won't keep.

Here are mine as we approach a hopefully more peaceful 2016:

I resolve to make weekly hospital visits to console Alshon Jeffery.

To not gasp at the "Star Wars" wallpaper in the Cubs' new clubhouse.

To not crash a single drone into the middle of a single soccer game.

To never use "Chicago mayor" and "Rahm Emanuel" in the same sentence.

To refrain from counting fans one by one at White Sox home games.

To shorten my power naps from two hours to 1:45 during the NHL entry draft and NFL Scouting Combine.

To persuade Brian Williams to let me ride shotgun on one of his flights of fantasy.

To not allow the pressure to overwhelm the pleasure while explaining Joe Maddon to some of my imaginary friends.

I resolve to remember that the Kansas City Royals really did win the 2015 World Series.

To gloat when the Warriors are mathematically eliminated from beating the Bulls' season record of 72 victories.

To quit humming, "Where have you gone, Patrick Sharp, a city turns its lonely eyes to you."

To not forget to add the "woo woo woo" at the end.

To not snicker when Pete Rose applies for reinstatement to baseball on the same day he becomes the official national spokesman for FanDuel.

To see Bernie Sanders and Larry David in the same room.

To eat at Chipotle again sooner than later.

To shoot myself if Floyd Mayweather Jr. and Manny Pacquiao agree to a rematch.

I resolve to help revive horse racing by campaigning to give American Pharoah a chance to defend his Triple Crown.

To push for a nuclear arms treaty that allows Iran to periodically inspect all Mets starting pitchers.

To vote in the presidential election even after one party's candidate is caught lying about throwing spitballs and the other's is caught lying about swinging corked bats.

To not be surprised when descendants of Lou Gehrig declare that Jason Heyward's $184 million contract makes him "the luckiest man on the face of the earth."

To consider it off-the-record when surveillance tapes catch GarPax telling Fredberg which outfit to wear on the sideline.

To fly Uber to the moon and hop a Lyft for the connecting flight to Pluto.

To applaud when Pope Francis criticizes exorbitant CEO severance packages and baseball free-agent contracts.

I resolve to trade in my Honda for a Tesla.

To not heave an audible sigh of resignation when Bears general manager Ryan Pace announces that "Jay is our quarterback" and extends Cutler's contract "well into the future."

To demand Secret Service reforms after agents are caught posing as Kris Bryant, Addison Russell and Anthony Rizzo to pick up women in a Buffalo Wild Wings.

To not miss the episode of "Undercover Boss" featuring Robin Ventura disguised as himself.

To quit sneaking selfies with local sports icons like Shea McClellin.

To follow Jimmy Butler anywhere except into the locker room and onto the basketball court.

To not place any more bets on the Foster Farms Bowl.

To continue declining the Blackhawks' invitation to join Jonathan Toews and Marian Hossa on their top line.

To not try to predict in April the Cubs' starting rotation for the World Series.

Finally, I resolve to undergo concussion protocol before writing another column.

mimrem@dailyherald.com

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