Tuesday, January 29, 2008

A Different Kind of Bucket List

I was reading about bucket lists, and I had a thought that most of the kinds of things I really wanted to do were in the past. Some of them, I actually thought about at the time, passed on, and later regretted--like the time that Parliament/Funkadelic/Bootsys Rubber Band/the Brides of Funkanstein were doing a Halloween show in St. Louis when I was in my early twenties. I actually considered going, and I later regretted not going. Some things I don't regret missing, like Woodstock. That would have been absolutely too uncomfortable for me. I can tell it was a smelly, muddy time from the film, but I did like the soundtrack.

Some missed opportunities were a result of circumstances, finances, and just plain stupidity.

I wish I'd done more third world travelling when I was younger. I've lost my taste for the inconvenience of it now, but I'm still curious about places I haven't seen. Maybe some day I'll take some round the world cruise and day trip to different places I still want to see.

I wish I'd asked my parents questions about their families and their lives. I'm puzzled why I was so incurious about that when they were alive. That's something I can't amend.

On a selfish note, I wish I'd bought shares of Berkshire-Hathaway when my brother-in-law recommended it eons ago. If I had, I would have oodles of cash, and I wouldn't have to listen to my brother-in-law say, "I told you so."

In terms of the future, I don't even have a bucket list. I can't think of anything in the world that would make me any happier than I am now. I don't think that's unique though. I read some article today, and it said that children and old folks are the happiest people on earth. That may very well be true.


Glitter Queen said...

A better job would make me happier.

My deepest personal regrets:

Not taping my mother's stories of growing up in the '20s and '30s. I have to write up her account of her grandmother's death sometime, but that's about the only story I remember.

Not doing more with singing at a younger age.

Not jumping at the chance to date Michael Feinstein when we were both neurotic babies in Ohio.

Not working harder to land a job I'd applied for in Atlanta years before I moved here.

Accepting the first two teaching jobs I did get.

Letting a pesky snowstorm keep me from taking the train to New York to see the original company of "Sweeny Todd."

OK, now I'm thoroughly depressed, and I still have work to do.

Uncle Robbie said...

I've missed opportunities and wasted time along the way to where I am today, but while I occasionally wonder "what might have been?" I've learned so much that I don't regret a thing. I mean, really, what's the point.