I hereby resolve to make no New Year’s resolutions as we bid a warm and heartfelt welcome to 2019.

OK, I might make one exception, which I’ll get to in just a moment.

My history with New Year’s resolutions is about as successful as my history of making political predictions, which is to say it stinks. I don’t have the mental or emotional discipline I used to possess; therefore, resolutions are likely to topple over after I make them.

Thus, I don’t even try any longer. Most of the time, that is.

My one exception involves this blog. I won’t declare it officially, which would hold me totally accountable for resolution fidelity. However, I plan to keep pounding away on High Plains Blogger at the president of the United States, Donald John Trump.

I have to qualify it by inserting the “I plan” qualifier. I’m like the politician who says he has “no intention” of seeking another public office. When I hear a pol equivocate like that I hear him or her saying, in effect, that he or she doesn’t “intend” to do something in the moment, but cannot predict what might occur the next day, or even the next 45 minutes. You got that?

So I won’t commit fully to anything regarding this blog. Situations might change dramatically in the next year. Donald Trump might be out of the picture before the end of the next year. Or the probe into alleged collusion might turn out to be a total loser, that special counsel Robert Mueller has come up with nothing at all . . . just as Trump has said. Something tells me, though, that Mueller has come up with some mysterious “something” on the president.

The rest of ’em? Those resolutions about losing weight? Keeping a civil tongue? Showing better manners? No need to commit to any of those other resolutions. Yeah, the weight-loss goal always looms. I’ll deal with it in due course, but I just cannot commit to anything with the promise of staying totally faithful to the commitment.

I’ll wait for the new year the way I’ve done it for the past, oh, many years. I will go to bed early, then awaken on New Year’s Day. The sun will come up. I’ll have breakfast with my wife. We’ll bid “good morning” to Toby the Puppy.

Then I’ll settle in for another year of blogging. I plan to keep my powder dry.