There will be no resolutions to start the new year. Never made them, never broken any.

Nothing about resolving to lose weight ... which may explain why I'm too heavy.

Nothing about exercising more ... which may explain why I'm out of shape.

Nothing about eating better ... which may explain why I need two arms to carry the takeout Chinese food, even though my wife only eats one small container of it.

Nothing about reducing stress ... not when you've been in the business I've been in for more than four decades.

Thing is, it will be three years in April since I was diagnosed with a treatable form of leukemia. (I know, "treatable" and "leukemia" don't seem like they belong in the same sentence.) I'm in remission and they tell me I'm likely to die from something else. Given my weight, my diet, my stress and assorted minor (so far) medical issues, that sounds like a good bet.

Oh, and did I mention my family history? My mother died at 50, my father at 60. Cancer. I'm 63. Whoever holds the record for longevity needn't feel threatened by me, you think?

I'm not fatalistic as much as I'm realistic. For now, I'm feeling pretty good. I'm working harder than ever, too hard, you might say, for someone nearer the end of a career than the beginning. (This is the newspaper business, after all.)

But family life is good (40 years of marriage to the same woman and we haven't had a disagreement since yesterday; two successful married sons; two wonderful daughters-in-law; a cute-as-a-button granddaughter; and one grand-dog).

I'm fortunate to be living comfortably, if not ostentatiously. And I can afford that takeout food for which I referred.

In other words, I can't complain (although my wife will tell you I do plenty of it).

So we step lively into 2012. Make the most of each day. Best wishes for a happy, healthy New Year!