Reaching the age for bucket lists
I've reached an age where suddenly The Bucket List makes more sense. A bucket list is a bunch of those things you've never done, things more "out there" than normal. Things unlike doing stuff you've been doing forever, like going to town, going to work, making your bed, washing windows, etc.
One of the things on My Bucket List has been there for a long time, and more than once I've suggested it to my brother, who like me is a Vietnam veteran: "Let's steal a boat on the Mississippi and see how far we get." Coincidentally, committing a crime is on the bucket list for men--that I found on Google. So it's kind of universal.
We steal a boat. We get as far as we can. They catch us. We're Vietnam veterans and we confess symptoms of posttraumatic stress and act real crazy. (Not beyond our normal day-to-day behavior, some days.) We could say that the NVA—North Vietnamese Army-- have broached the outer perimeter. We needed the boat to recon the river, make sure it's safe. We can rehearse it, come up with some gawd-awful nonsense. We'd have to make restitution to the boat owner, for sure, at least something, assuming we don't wreck the boat. So they catch us. Bottom line: The trip would be cheaper than a several-thousand-dollar sight-see-er white-napkin river cruise boat. Then they give us some drugs (That's a plus plus.); we get free health care and a nice 30-day vacation at a rest facility where everyone dresses in white; and I write a book about it all when it's over. Plus we'd get the drug thing off the list. (Google list says: Someday, do all the drugs you can before 9:00 am. The guys in the white suits would even bring them to us, I'll bet.)
In one fell swoop, we'd get drugs, long trip, crime, drive at night—on the river-- with the lights off, and write a book. Whee.
Also on the list is hire someone, fire someone. When I had Hippie Hardware, I hired my daughters, among others. So there's the hire. The fire? I was famous in Boatville for firing my youngest daughter, who doesn't seem to have turned out the worse for it. I actually had a couple of folks from town who came up to me and said, with a mix of admiration and derision on their faces: "Did you really?" Yes, I did really.
Also on the list is write a country song. I've done that the best I could. But all the good songs have been written. For example, there's: "How can I miss you when you won't go away"; "If I had shot you when I should of, I'd be out of jail by now"; and that all-time favorite of mine: "I gave you a gold mine, you gave me the shaft."
Writing that song, along with number 33 on the list, which is get married at least once, is a two-fer. And anytime you can get a two-for-one, maybe you don't even need a bucket list. Maybe.
Last on the list is spend too much money on a really nice suit. I once asked a daughter to go and help me find a really nice suit that I could buy. She became instantly concerned and it turned out that she thought I was dying and wanted to look sharp for a coffin walk-by. Whoa. Just because bucket lists are on my mind, don't let's jump to conclusions here. I've just never had a suit I thought I looked really good in. (Wait. I don't think I've ever had a suit, period. Nor had a job where I had to wear one. That's another two-fer, right?)
My Bucket List. When I was twenty years old, bucket lists hadn't been invented.
Boy. Those were the days.