The other day I thought about my “Bucket List.” I didn’t even know that’s what it was called until the movie with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman came out a few years ago. The film has become a favorite of mine. I think what started me thinking about a Bucket List was this great article we just posted on the website called On A Wing and A Prayer. It was written by an “active senior” who went sky-diving on his fiftieth birthday. (Here’s the link if you didn’t see it: http://ocactiveseniors.com/career/too-busy-to-grow-old-gracefully/on-a-wing-and-a-prayer/) It even has a video! I confess I held onto the arms of my chair when I watched it.
Anyway, after posting it I said to myself “That’s definitely something I will never do!” I passed out on the ferris wheel at Six Flags in New Jersey. I sit on the aisle in airplanes, not only because of my frequent trips to the head, but also because then I don’t have to look out the window. I don’t even face out in one of those glass-enclosed elevators! I face the doors! There’s absolutely no way I’d jump out of a plane. At least, not willingly.
I’ve come to realize that there are probably more things that I will never do…any day. I suppose one could call this “The Empty Bucket List.” Hence, the name of this blog.
Here are a few that come to mind:
In addition to never jumping out of a plane, I will never go rattlesnake hunting.
MOTNSO (“More Often Than Not Significant Other”) frequently tells me that this is great fun and we should do it. I don’t hate snakes…I despise them, abhor them, see absolutely nothing good about them and they scare the bejesus out of me.
I have lost more golf balls because of a sign near the edge of the rough that warns you to be careful of snakes there. It could be a 24 karat, solid gold, diamond-encrusted golf ball and even if I could see it from the edge of the Fairway, kiss that baby good-bye.
Once, while just starting the uphill climb near Salt Creek Beach in Dana Point behind the Ritz-Carlton, some wayward slithery sneaky snake decided to make a break for it from the brush along the path. I saw it and passed it running at 60 mph uphill. Anyone who knows that part of the trail knows it is about a 45 degree angle. I got to the top in about four seconds. My legs looked like wheels and MOTNSO, who was with me, still talks about how he’s never seen me ever move that fast, unless there was a martini about to spill.
I will never go camping.
At least not real camping, like in a tent. I often joke that “Camping to me is staying in a three-star hotel in a National Forest”…but the very thought of being outdoors, in a sleeping bag, on the unforgiving ground, with heaven-only-knows-what creeping and crawling around you? Forget it! and coyotes? and bears? oh my? and what about a bathroom? I don’t even like those Port-A-Potties. Unless they are air-conditioned and have running water. No Starbucks within walking distance? C’mon! what can be fun about that? Now, give me one of those big, shiny motor-home RV’s with two HD TV’s, air-conditioning, an ice-maker and a bath and a half…I’m in!
One of the other things I will never do is ski.
I tried it once and then I realized that there was nothing more frightening to me than standing on the top of a mountain and the only way I can get down is with two sticks/fiberglass slabs/whatevers strapped to my feet. And that is without taking into consideration the method by which you must get to that afore-mentioned top of the mountain. A chair lift? with my feet dangling? with those things attached to them? a small gondola, encased in glass, swinging dizzingly over tree-tops? It ain’t never happening. I did do cross-country once or twice but even then every so often I’d come to some spot on the course where there was a “hill” the size of a mogul and I would turn and side-step down it. Then breathe a sigh of relief.
Lastly, you will never, ever find me climbing a rock wall.
I don’t think I need to explain why too much. It involves all the elements of things I hate the most: being high up, no visible means of support (other than a rope harness that some cranky teen-ager who hates his job is holding) and rocks hide snakes and both rocks and snakes are generally found in areas where people camp. And frequently camp sites are in an area where people ski. No way!!!!
Yes, I know they are fake rocks on the wall. But suppose the cranky teen-ager thinks it would be funny to stick a fake snake mid-way up just to add some excitement to his otherwise boring day?
I could probably come up with several more things that are in the Empty Bucket. But reading this over I’ve decided that I have some serious issues and I should go research a support group for at least some of these phobias or at least find other people who have an Empty Bucket List.