Happy New Year! Some links from your friends at Blogenberg to start your 2009 off right…

• The Wall Street Journal offers its annual list of lifehacks.
• “Bringing broadband to the urban poor” should be a priority anyway, but could happen sooner than later if infrastructure upgrades really are the centerpiece of the stimulus package sure to come out of Congress in early 2009.
• As if we needed further confirmation of print’s cloudy future, The Village Voice laid off one of our (at least this Blogen-editor’s) favorite trouble-making columnists, Nat Hentoff. (His syndicated column will continue, though.)
• Austin blogger Omar Gallaga shares his list of Twitter turnoffs.
• One of life’s great mysteries: the world’s most expensive toilets.
• Check out this write-up about a very cool exhibit showing celebrities in the moments before they go live on television.

My wife constantly tells me I should be more patient, that it is a virtue. I always respond the same way — no. I don’t want to be patient. I don’t see what that does for me.

She said it again just the other day (she never gives up). It got me thinking: here are my top 10 New Year’s resolutions guaranteed to make me a better person while killing my business:

10. I will stop worrying about money, incessantly.
9. I will stop worrying, period, and give up anxiety as my own personal homeostasis.
8. I will stop being a perfectionist.
7. I will stop demanding that people around me be perfect.
6. I will stop focusing so intently on little details.
5. I will ingest less caffeine.
4. I will sleep more.
3. I will stop being so full of myself.
2. I will go the gym more — oh, never mind, I already do that (as a result, Blogenberg is the hottest almost-bald-guy-with-a-gray-beard around!)

And the number one business-killing, better-person-building New Year’s resolution is:

1. I will stop judging my sense of self by looking at monthly income statements.

Happy New Blogen-year! And thank you for making Blogenberg more successful than I had ever envisioned.

We’re driving through the woods to grandma’s house for Christmas Eve. On the radio, a Christmas version of one of those saccharin call-in shows for the pathetic and lovelorn. A woman calls in, sharing her very own Christmas story:

It was a few years ago. We went to midnight mass. While we were in church it started to snow. On the way home we slid into a ditch, and we couldn’t get the car moving. So we had to get out and walk, just wearing, like, pumps. We walked about 200 yards and found the only house with a light on. We knocked on the door. The family let us in. They fed us treats and gave us hot chocolate. And they were…[pregnant pause, like pregnant with twins pause]…Jewish!

And then the radio show host, talking as if a mad scientist mixed honey, white sugar, and rock candy and made a person, responded:

That’s beautiful. People are reaching out to each other across divides.

Unbelievable. Jewish people let Christians into their house. And gave them treats! I expected the calling-in woman to continue:

And we were so grateful, and relieved. Because Jewish people used to kidnap Christian children and kill them. We were just so thankful that they didn’t kill us and mix us into their potato pancakes and eat us.

And then the melted-then-congealed-sugar hosting the show would say:

Yes, it is beautiful that Jews and Christians can come together in America today, and nobody gets killed and mashed into the potato pancake bowl. Love really can solve everything.

Everything we knew before is no longer. The physical laws of this earth have changed, and what lies ahead is unknown — but, clearly, it is troubling.

My wife and I went to a movie tonight. I had to go to the mens room. There was a line for the mens room, and no line for the ladies room. I will repeat that, as I realize it is not consistent with what you thought you knew: there was a line for the mens room and no line for the ladies room.

I am scared. Please remember that it was Blogenberg who warned you.

(I know what you are thinking but, no, I was not in a Flomax commercial.)

What kind of person gets their teeth whitened at a kiosk in the middle of the mall?

At what age did I start following women around at a party because they were carrying good food to the dessert table, as opposed to just following women around at a party?

Do all these stockbrokers that cold call my office really think I’m going to write them a check?

Who in the world hired Microsoft’s advertising firm, and was he or she a relative of the head of the ad firm?

Has anybody, anywhere ever actually read a flyer stuck under the windshield wiper?

Finally, has Blogenberg wished you a Happy Holiday? If not, well, Happy Holidays.

I’m dropping my daughter and a friend at the International House of Pancakes (IHOP), while I go to the gym:

Me: Don’t let me get a phone call from the IHOP police.
Daughter’s friend (whom we love dearly): IHOP has police?

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My daughter wants to be in Blogenberg even more: Great. My beautiful, head strong 14-year-old daughter who thinks she’s 18 wants to provide even more copy for my blog. Uh-oh.

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Old love dies suddenly: I’ve kept this to myself. The true love that got away, nearly 25-years ago, is much more beautiful. The one I’m left with is attractive, but not beautiful. Last night, I realized that, after all these years, maybe I’ve finally fully embraced whom I’m left with. Last night, I was screaming at the TV, rooting for the Baltimore Ravens to beat the Cowboys. Perhaps garish purple has begun to look as pretty to me as the blue-and-white of my Baltimore Colts, stolen a long time ago by another suitor.

Sometimes, the smartest thing I can say is stupid. I personally handled stage one of a marketing campaign for a client. The external outreach worked perfect — the client looked good. But I made a mistake that created internal headache.

There was nothing for me to do but call the client’s president and say I made a stupid mistake and I apologize. I emphasized stupid.

The client responded by agreeing, laughing, and appreciating that I could call and say, “stupid.”

Sometimes, stupid is the kindest word.

This week’s recommended reading from your friends at Blogenberg…

• Noted bloggers and thinkers compile their predictions for Social Media in 2009.
• Just remember - digitial influencers still get their information from traditional media.
• The Freakonomics blog recently hosted this interesting Q&A with political historian Julian Zelizer.
• Anita Bruzzese lists 10 things bloggers stand to learn from journalists.
• Professionals are using Facebook as a means of finding support during these trying economic times.
• Guy Kawasaki explains how you can use Twitter as a marketing tool.
• The Web Urbanist offers a view of amazing 3D street art.

I’m in Starbucks. Three women are sitting next to me. One appears to be about 35. The other two are about 60. They talk non-stop. I’m not sure they even breath. But the amazing thing is they are able to hold an entire conversation without talking about sports. Men invented sports so we could talk to each other. What in the world could these women be talking about?

A man just walked in and met his blind date. They are sitting down two tables over. He’s a good-looking guy. She’s attractive, but, honestly, not as attractive as he is. I know she’s thinking, “I hope he’ll see my wonderful personality.” I know he’s thinking, “How long do I have to stay?”

I just learned what the three women are talking about: love and relationships. I want to suggest that, instead, they will have a much better time discussing why Brett Favre should not be in the Pro Bowl.

Oh, and the two sixty-year-old women each have Blue Tooth devices sticking out of their ears. Should I be a good, caring neighbor of the world and tell them how ridiculous they look?

My neighbor set my yard on fire yesterday. Turns out, a burning bush, while scary, is a good thing.

Here’s the tale. My wife looks out our front door to see smoke rising from one corner of our property. Then flames. She calls 911. The firemen put the fire out.

Turns out our neighbor tossed ashes from her furnace on to our property. So I’m angry. I call my neighbor, angrily. She apologizes. She cries. She explains that her husband is away, his mother very ill, the furnace is dying, and the stress overwhelmed her and, as a result, she did something really stupid. She cries some more, because she doesn’t like to do stupid things, especially this stupid.

I tell her I get angry, let people know I’m angry, and then accept sincere apologies.

I call her back to see if there’s anything I can do to help while Joe is away.

When I get home in the evening I go over to her house, give her a hug and try to explain that she doesn’t have a monopoly on doing stupid things (my wife and kids can attest to that).

Surprise, surprise, a burning bush helped me be a better Christian (something I always need help with).