2026 Resolutions by Ed Kramer:
My first thoughts are to offer sincere thanks to everyone who has supported my endeavors over the years — both in photography, (publishing many photos on Etsy), and in authoring and publishing 5 books, which are published on Amazon, Barnes & Nobel and Ingram-Spark.
Your encouragement, purchases, reviews, kind words, and quiet belief made all the difference. What began as creative curiosity turned into meaningful work because others cared enough to look, read, and share.
At this stage of my life, that support means more than success metrics or sales numbers. It means connection, purpose, and the joy of knowing that creativity still travels outward and finds a home.
I am deeply grateful — and more motivated than ever to keep creating.
But now. lets get down to the challenge of creating our 2026 Resolutions.
- Make Happy Hour last all day, not limited to One Hour
Who decided that happiness has a time limit? Was there a committee? Were seniors consulted? (Obviously not), and I’m tired of that “5:00 Somewhere” thing.
At 80+, Happy Hour is not an hour and not controlled by the clock it’s a state of mind.
Let’s face it – if naps can be flexible and exercise can be counted monthly, then surely happiness deserves the same courtesy.
Happy Hour should be long enough to finish the story, Short enough to remember it and flexible enough to include water, wine, or whatever the doctor suggested was “fine in moderation.
Some days Happy Hour starts at 4. Some days it starts at noon. Some days it’s just coffee with friends — and that counts.
So, I resolve: To extend Happy Hour whenever possible, To enjoy it responsibly (or at least memorably), And to never apologize for enjoying the moment
After all, if you’ve earned Medicare, you’ve earned Extended Happy Hour
2. My commitment to Reducing Ultra-Processed Foods (Without Starting a Feud)
This year, the focus is on reducing ultra-processed foods in my diet. It’s been reported that these are foods containing ingredients designed to improve taste, texture, and shelf life — things like hydrogenated oils, modified starches, emulsifiers, and artificial colors and sweeteners. Well. if they taste sooo good, why eliminate them? I have already lived more that 80 years and have earned the options to choose.
Yes, my beloved sheet cake is officially an ultra-processed food. I have accepted this diagnosis.
But it turns out sheet cake isn’t alone. Many products we confidently label as “nutritious” are also members of the ultra-processed witness protection program — cleverly disguised with words like protein, fiber, or heart-healthy printed in reassuring fonts.
Therefore, my goal is reduction, not exile. I am not breaking up with sheet cake — we are simply seeing each other less often.
If a food has: A paragraph of ingredients, Words I can’t pronounce, or Colors not found in nature – I will pause, reflect, and possibly eat it anyway — just not every day.
Progress, not perfection. And cake on special occasions.
3. Laugh Daily (Especially at Myself)
Aging is a long-running prank, and I’m clearly the punchline.
Rather than protest, I laugh — it seems to annoy it. And, for those that are younger – Aging keeps moving the goalposts. I keep laughing and pretending I meant to do that. I’ve discovered that laughing alone is fine — but laughing with friends is louder, longer, and usually someone spills a drink. Remember, friends are the people who laugh with you… and then remind you that you told this same joke last week.
Here are 3 observations;
a. Aging provides the material.
b. Friends provide the audience.
c. Laughter does the healing.
4. Stay Curious
I will continue learning new things, even if my brain treats them like pop-up ads and immediately closes them. Curiosity keeps the mind young; forgetting keeps it humble. Notes help, assuming they aren’t lost, duplicated, or written so cryptically that I later suspect someone else broke into the house and left them.
5. Accept Reality (Especially on the Golf Course)
In golf, I’ve come to terms with an important truth: my driver now hits the ball about the same distance my 7-iron used to. This is not a setback — it’s club consolidation. Why carry fourteen clubs when several now do the same job? I call it efficiency. If the ball still goes straight, I consider it a victory. If it doesn’t, I admire the scenery, tell a good story, and take credit for improving my short game. The upside is consistency: no matter which club I grab, the ball ends up roughly the same distance away, usually with a scenic view. I’ve stopped blaming the clubs and started thanking them for their loyalty. At my age, any shot that stays in bounds deserves applause, encouragement, and possibly a beverage.
6. Exercise, etc., etc., etc.
For most of us, Resolutions are an annual exercise — part tradition, part optimism, and part creative writing. We make them knowing life will interfere, memory will wander, and cake will occasionally win. And that’s fine. Speaking of exercise — that’s one resolution that has appeared on many lists over the years. Right alongside classics like lose weight, be a better friend to So-and-So in the office, and finally stop pretending this year will be different. Exercise has survived every rewrite, every January burst of enthusiasm, and every February disappearance.
At this stage, resolutions aren’t about perfection or dramatic reinvention. They’re about staying engaged, laughing often, moving a little, learning something new (even twice), and enjoying the company of good friends during extended Happy Hours.
If a few resolutions stick, that’s a success.
If they don’t, there’s always next year — and another story to tell.