When we were kids, there was no such thing as a Bucket List. For one thing, kids don’t think much about dying; for another, there’s a hundred years to get anything you want accomplished. And some of those items on the list might have seemed pretty ambitious. Springtime in Paris? We’d be happy to get a cottage at Hampton Beach for a week. Dinner in Rome? How about a trip to Findeisen’s ice-cream stand. The closest we came to a Bucket List item was probably the day Jackie Fournier and I were sitting on his front steps discussing the unlikely possibility of some day visiting all the Major League baseball parks, a preposterous proposition, at best. In retrospect, of course, perhaps not so unattainable. There were only 16 Major League teams in those days and you could knock off half of them with a train ride down the East Coast. The Braves and the Red Sox were in Boston, the Yankees, Giants and Dodgers in New York, the Phillies and Athletics in Philadelphia and the Senators in Washington. Not to mention a side trip to Pittsburgh to see the Pirates. That’s nine. In those days, the westernmost teams were the Cardinals and Browns, all the way out in faraway St. Louis. For baseball fans, the West Coast didn’t exist. All we knew about California was that Jack Benny lived there and the Rose Bowl came on from Pasadena every New Year’s Day at 5 p.m. And everybody’s mother liked to watch that parade.
In 1957, Jack Kerouac’s book, On The Road, was published. We were just about finished with high school then, so everybody entertained delusions of hitchhiking across the country like Jack—or “Sal Paradise,” as he was called in the book. Heck, if a kid from Lowell could do it, why not a kid from Lawrence? In those days, we hitchhiked everywhere anyway—to school and back, to Boston for baseball, to away football games on Saturdays and Sundays. No problem, except for the occasional mild-mannered perv, easily dispensed with. Somehow, none of us ever got around to it, though Jackie eventually travelled to Germany, Japan and other Axis Nations, presumably on a sequence of planes. In those days, the world was far larger and we had quieter ambitions.
Nobody ever heard of a Bucket List until 1993, when the phrase showed up in a different context: a National Labor Relations Board report indicating agenda items that must be postponed: “The conferees were told that if comments or questions came up concerning bargainable issues or items that required more information, these matters should be placed in a ‘bucket list’ to indicate that they could not be considered at the conference.”
In 2004, the term was used, perhaps for the first time, in the context of things to do before one kicks the bucket (a phrase in use since at least 1785). In the book Unfair & Unbalanced: The Lunatic Magniloquence of Henry E. Panky, by Patrick M. Carlisle, appeared these sentences: “So, anyway, a Great Man, in his querulous twilight years, who doesn’t want to go gently into that blacky black night. He wants to cut loose, dance on the razor’s edge, pry the lid off his bucket list!”
The phrase was in wide use by 2007, when Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman combined to make a movie of the same name about a pair of terminally ill characters who take it on the lam from a cancer ward, heading off on a road trip with a wish list of things to do before they die. The movie was aesthetically mediocre but very successful at the box office. Anyone previously unfamiliar with the phrase “Bucket List” was now enlightened. The term became ubiquitous. These days, everybody has one, or so it seems. Naturally, they differ greatly. One man’s champagne is another man’s sarsaparilla. Some Bucket Lists even include the bucket.
A Few Suggestions
Yeah, yeah, we know—everybody wants to climb Kilimanjaro or watch Haleakala erupt or make that pilgrimage to Mecca. How about something different for a change? Like what? Like these:
The Annual Songkran Water Fight—This jolly event celebrating the onset of the New Year used to be held on varying dates dependant on the Thai Lunar Calendar but is now commemorated on the same three days every year. It always takes place during the warmest period of the year so it’s the perfect time for water play. Everyone who walks out on the streets gets nailed. Water bombs are dropped from above, water guns appear out of nowhere, hoses are plentiful and the traditionalists still use buckets. It’s almost as good as the Austin, Texas Waterballoon fights of 1962 which, alas, are no longer available.
The biggest and best recognized festival is at Chiang Mai, which even holds a parade, participants carrying statues from local temples through the teeming streets. During this occasion, you’re even allowed to respectfully pour water over the arms and legs of the Buddha. I said respectfully. Dispensation of liquids may never be accompanied by wild-eyed shouts of “GOTCHA, BIG FELLER!” April 13-15. Bring a big towel.
ADDENDA: While you’re there, you might as well get your picture taken with a tiger. Everybody does it. Chiang Mai has a fun spot called Tiger Kingdom, where, for a few bucks, you can walk into a tiger den and get your photo taken with the Head Resident. Hey—it beats hell out of your selfie with Mr. Peanut.
Climb “The Heavenly Stairs”—Like tea? Like it a LOT? Siobhan does, and that’s why she should consider a trip to the famous Huashan Teahouse on Mount Hua in China. The tea is said to be exemplary. Let’s hope so because it’s a rough trek up a long series of stone steps carved right into the mountain. Steep, too. One slip and you’ll be in Heaven faster than expected. And that’s the easy part. Once at the top of the steps, a rickety gondola ferries hikers high above a mountain valley to the base of the mountain’s Southern peak. For this ascent, pay attention because the trail sorta disappears. Hikers must then sidle along the sheer mountainside across a thin ledge made of scrap wood stapled and lashed together by people who don’t have to worry about building codes. Occasionally, a plank or two falls into the abyss, leaving the hiker with only a chain and some pegs to stand on hundreds of feet above the ground. Plummeters are not unknown. If you’re still interested, another set of worn stairs, often snow-covered, finally leads to the temple. The tourist brochures tell us “The promise of serenity and a warm cup of hard-earned tea keeps people coming back in larger number each year.” You could be one of them. If so, have a couple of sips for Siobhan, who won’t be making the trip but sends her warmest regards. No reservations necessary.
Take A Random Flight—Just show up at the airport and pick a gate, any gate. Then march up to the counter and buy a ticket. If the first flight you try is full, take the next one. Bring a little cash and your passport since you could wind up anywhere from Rangoon to Roanoke. You might want to try this one in the Summer. Nobody likes Reykjavik in December.
Visit A Nude Beach—I tried this once, and if you’re self-conscious, don’t worry. Nobody pays any attention to you. The only people who get noticed are the shy semi-participants who are not completely naked. If everyone would visit a nude beach, obesity in the country would drop drastically overnight. By the way, if you’re looking to see a lot of pretty girls showing skin, try a fashion show instead.
Another thing. If you’re going to swim naked, make sure you’re actually AT a nude beach. Or a very secluded one. Once, after a delightful bottle of champagne, girlfriend Dani Hughes and I didn’t heed this commandment at Washington Oaks State Beach, just south of Marineland. After all, there was nobody else around, where’s the harm? Okay, there was one person around—a cop with a whistle. Know what the fine is for nude swimming at Washington Oaks State Beach? Two hundred bucks a pop. And they don’t discount for twofers.
Ride The Singapore Flyer
My sister, Alice (the Republican), will be glad to know that Ferris Wheels no longer exist. A generally self-assured person, Alice somehow came of the notion the things were out to get her and she might have been right. After years of fearful abstinence, she was finally talked into getting onto one of them at Canobie Lake, N.H. by her scoffing brother and her grandchildren. The Canobie Wheel licked its chops in delight, knowing that it could soon report back to Ferris Wheels everywhere that it had finally trapped the recalcitrant Alice. It zipped her little basket to the top of the ride and immediately stopped dead in its tracks, remaining there for about twenty minutes before the wheel’s handlers could talk some sense into it.
Alice, good news—they don’t have Ferris Wheels anymore. Now they have “Observation Wheels.” I guess Mr. Ferris’ patent ran out. Anyway, the world’s largest Observation Wheel is located in faraway Singapore. This beast is an impressive 165 meters high. A 30-minute ride costs a scary $29.50, which guarantees there will be no long lines to fuss with. When you get back down, you can celebrate with some snapper pie and barley water. Or not.
Filch A Wardrobe
You have to pick out the right person for this one. You wouldn’t want an ailing granny or someone with a terrible temper. Okay, so now you pop on down to the local gym or some other place with a public shower and remove all of someone’s clothes, replacing them with oh, say a Little Bo Peep costume or a mascot uniform….I’m thinking the San Diego Chicken, although it could be a little hard to drive in that one. Then wait for the fun to begin. Oh, and a little warning: NEVER let the victim find out who perpetrated this atrocity. He or she will hunt you down if it takes a lifetime and the revenge won’t be pretty.
And Don’t Forget….
1. Stonehenge. Alien landing pad in England, built by ancient Druids in consultation with interstellar masters on a powerful intersection of ley lines running toward Atlantis and El Dorado. Not everyone knows this, so keep it quiet or the place will be worse than Disneyland.
2. Sedona. Not far from the Grand Canyon in Arizona. Known for its Energy Vortices, which have spawned a large local New Age community. The vortices in Sedona are swirling centers of subtle energy emanating from the surface of the Earth. They are not electrical or magnetic and thus difficult to calculate, although a slight measurable residual magnetism can be found in places where the vortices are strongest. The energy resonates with and strengthens the Inner Being of each person who comes in contact. Siobhan placed herself in the center of one of these vortices once. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of Sedona’s main street and she couldn’t hang around long enough to enhance her Inner Being. She got a little tingle, though. Best to try at traffic-free five o’clock in the morning. Let us know how it works out.
3. Great Sphinx Of Giza. Statue of strange dude in Egypt. In Greek tradition, a Sphinx has the haunches of a lion, sometimes the wings of a great bird and the face of a human. It is mythicised as treacherous and merciless. Those who can’t answer its riddle may be KILLED by this ravenous monster so be SURE to bring along a cheat sheet and/or a fast car. Tourists may combine this visit with a trip to the Great Pyramid Of Giza, which is more civilized and hardly ever eats anybody.
4. Racetrack Playa, Death Valley. Next time you’re in Vegas, drop by this place and try to figure out how normal, everyday stones are travelling across the surface of the California desert, leaving tracks, no less. This has been going on since 1915 when a prospector and his wife noticed tracks that seemed to indicate the stones had travelled across dry earth on their own. In 2011, a posse of physicists visited the place and put out some malarkey about ice forming on the stones and causing them to move. Oh, please! I’m pretty familiar with ice, having lived in Massachusetts for seventeen years, and I’ve never seen it move anything, except maybe for a few errant vehicles which used improper braking techniques. I think the Crop Circle guys got bored and started some new shenanigans.
5. Loch Ness. This place has been quiet lately but that happens sometimes when the Loch Ness Monster has a particularly difficult crossword puzzle. The lake, situated in the Scottish Highlands, is the largest Scottish loch by volume with a surface area of 21.8 square miles, getting as deep as 755 feet. That’s deep! Deep enough to hide in even if you’re a very large monster, which this one certainly is. The LNM first made headlines in 1933, with a photo of a long-necked beast appearing in 1934. The photographer eventually confessed that the photo was a fraud but we think he was coaxed by the Illuminati.
6. Socorro. Finally, everyone’s Bucket List should include a visit to fabulous Socorro, New Mexico, a noted UFO recreation area. They just love the place. In 1964, a respectable policeman named Lonnie Zamora was cruising around in his prowler at 5:45 p.m. on the afternoon of April 24 when a speeder zipped by. Officer Zamora, not one to brook such foolishness, chased after him. Suddenly, Lonnie heard a loud roar in the distance, accompanied by a bluish-orange flame rising into the air. He radioed in and made off for a nearby dynamite shack, assuming an explosion had taken place there. The building was on a narrow gravel road which wound around a small gully. As he approached the shack, he noticed a shining object in the distance, anywhere from 100 to 200 yards away. From that distance, it seemed about the size of an average automobile. When he got closer, however, he saw an oval-shaped object without windows or doors. There was an unusual red insignia on the side of the vehicle. And get this—there were two little guys wearing white overalls walking around outside the thing. WOW! Was this great or what!?
Long story short, the fellas saw Lonnie, freaked out, jumped in the saucer and blew town, leaving what some observers called a patch of “fused sand” at the scene. Air Force representatives promptly showed up and closed off the area, as they were wont to do on these occasions, but the incident blew up in the press and further UFO sightings in the area gave it prominence in the world of the arcane. Today, Socorro is still celebrated by UFO buffs, as a trip down the main street will attest. Some say the Venusians still perform the occasional flyover just to keep their hand (or whatever) in. If you can’t make it to Stonehenge or the Great Sphinx, try Socorro. Unlike England or Egypt, motel prices start at $19.95.
That’s all, folks….
