Priorities Worthy of a New Epoch

My millennial resolutions, the things I plan to do in the next 1,000 years, provided I ever get around to them:

Teach my dog to whistle.

Chop wood.

Frequent the racetrack.

Get a new doctor.

Lose 10 pounds.

Gain 15 pounds.

Lose 5.

Take my buddy Jack fishing in Canada, where we will talk about the nice girls we knew in college and how they influenced our understanding of bait.

Eat more pie.

Read the fine print.

Grow the garden.

Grope my wife.

Play touch football.

Watch less TV.

Memorize the Gettysburg Address.

Sing the national anthem.

Take my mom to lunch. In Paris.

Spend more time at the beach.

Cook more turkeys with my friends Irv and Trapper Tom.

Listen better.

Jog more.

Nurse a martini.

Thank a nurse.

Dance at my daughters’ weddings.

Run the L.A. Marathon.

Run the Catalina Marathon.

Take a walk with John Irving.

Play golf with my buddy Paul.

Teach my daughters to throw a curveball.

Teach my son to wait on the pitch.

Follow my instincts.

Tilt at windmills.

Restore an old MG.

Attend the weddings of complete strangers, then shout out “DON’T DO IT!” at key points in the ceremony.

Send them a nice gift.

Take more hikes.

Bet the longshot.

Buy a team, preferably in the minor leagues.

Read “Ulysses.”

Hog all the shrimp.

Eat the crust.

Create, along with my friend Vic, a company called useless.com, then take it public a week later at huge profits. “We see huge potential in useless things,” buyers will say.

Return the videos on time.

Plant lots of trees, mostly birch and maple.

Add a bedroom.

Buy Dodgers season tickets.

Meet Phil Jackson.

Persuade everyone I know to read “The Monkey Wrench Gang.”

Drive safely.

Account for every penny.

Scream with pleasure.

Work on my impressions.

Attend the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, then take the little red-haired girl shopping along Fifth Avenue.

Build a small cabin in the mountains.

Take my older daughter to Europe.

Take my son to a World Series game. Eat three Dodger Dogs. Be the last to leave.

Be patient with tools.

Measure twice. Cuss once.

Learn to sail.

Play the fluegelhorn.

Quit shouting in my sleep, “Ally, get off my forehead!”

Visit Ireland.

Celebrate Mardi Gras.

Remember the Alamo.

Buy American.

Count my blessings.

Hold hands with my wife.

Take a long walk in the woods.

Spend Wednesday mornings--Lord willing--with you.

Happy New Year.

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Chris Erskine’s column is published on Wednesdays. His e-mail address is chris.erskine@latimes.com.