Happy New Year, everybody. Happy fresh start. This year I decided to explore beyond the confines of the predictable to make the making of resolutions fun before breaking them.

I sought online gurus for help and found an interesting list on realbuzz.com. Since I’ve memorized the same list as everyone else (losing weight, clearing out junk, writing the great American novel) and never managed to achieve or maintain said list, I plan to launch an assortment of unusual goals.

The first suggestion that grabbed my attention was to “learn a decent party trick.” The writer of this idea intimated that I had a party trick that could use improvement. To my utter humiliation, I realized I don’t even have a stinking party trick to improve upon to dazzle when the group mood wanes.

When the repartee loses its sparkle and friends begin looking at their phones — I mean, I wouldn’t even know how to go about suggesting a trick of some kind. This seems awkward. “Hey I have a party trick.” Sounds awkward without a dog or some other prop. Making balloon animals seems cumbersome.

Then I remembered a closeted personality who sometimes emerges spontaneously after about three-quarters of a glass of wine. It’s Elvis. I take off on Elvis. “Blue Christmas” is especially good for this. But don’t ask me on a whim. The temperature of the room must be right, a peanut butter and banana sandwich at the ready, and I have to be wearing a high-collared, sequined cape.

The writer listed other tempting resolutions by saying that they may increase my self-esteem and earn me social kudos. Like a 97-pound weakling falling for Charles Atlas’ weight-lifting come-ons, I read on.

Breaking records was a category that may be more doable than one would imagine. For instance, if you could break the record for running the mile wearing swim fins. I’m not making this up. Zachary Miller from Brunswick, Maine, set the bar for males in 2014 by flapping around the track in five minutes and 48.86 seconds. I could represent for the females, since, unbelievably, no woman has given it a shot yet.

Then I wondered where I would attempt this new kudo-gaining feat with the least chance of ending up on TikTok. Since I was doubtful of walking in swim fins, let alone running, especially under cover of darkness, I soon forsook the notion.

My bass lessons are coming along. I could pull out Lady Blue and perform a bass solo for an enthralled crowd. We could play “guess the song” based on the bass line alone.

My brother Alan had an ingenious party trick and was unparalleled socially. He would begin by sitting in a straight chair and somehow contort his 6-foot-plus body all the way around the back of the chair, returning to his seat without his feet touching the floor. Though related by blood, I knew this was out of my league.

Next on the list was to learn something you never learned as a child — an achievement that everyone else seems to know such as swimming or riding a bike. I liked this one and knew it could keep me occupied for decades, beginning with the hula hoop. I never did get the gist of keeping that orb twirling, while others without hips made it look so easy.

I could never do a handstand or cartwheel, though the other day I got a madcap urge to try a somersault. I hesitated, thinking I should have a spotter. I never ice-skated, either, though movies always make it look effortless and romantic. I would require a walker.

Trying one new food a week is No. 7. They suggested the produce department, while I was imagining the chip aisle. Not sure how many rungs on the social ladder it achieves, but I might try items I routinely spurn like jicama or chicken feet. Maybe even beets, though I may have to work up to that.

Lastly, they offered doing something nice for someone every day. Every day? Does petting the cat count?