Can’t believe I’m turning 40. Really, this seems like a big number. I don’t feel 40 though, more like an adolescent who’s managed to get married, make a family, buy a house and keep a sense of humor. Life is good®.
Wait. The baby’s up. It’s 10:32pm. I’ll be back. Enjoy Alfalfa singing I’m in the Mood For Love.
8oz later, as promised, I’m back.
I sit here, a light beer as my writing partner–because I don’t burn calories like I used to–and consider what remains. There’s A LOT more to do. So, here’s my confessional, a bucket list in no particular order, to be completed prior to expiration.
- Learn Karate, for real.
- Love Vaness, Jack and Reese with abandon. Their impact–words fail me.
- Become a great writer and guitarist.
- Make more home movies.
- Determine why some documents state “This Page Intentionally Left Blank.”
- Write the greatest resume known to humankind.
- Be more exotic and aquatic (think swimming with dolphins).
- Cut back on the meth.
- Remain ridiculous.
- Save “enough” for retirement.
- Kill all mosquitoes (they’re bereft of evolutionary benefit).
- Visit Vienna.
- Become the Chuck Norris of my generation.
- Get in stunningly good shape.
- Own a muscle car.
- Be a JCPenney model, on the side.
- Grill all year-round.
- Photobomb whenever possible.
- Become a Chamber of Commerce member.
- Wang Chung—tonight.
- Make a meme that matters.
- Sing in a barbershop quartet.
- Raise the Titanic. Wait, already did that.
I know, I’m ambitious. Anything I should add?