Since I turned 40, it appeared I was still alive and that I might remain so long enough to get a few important things accomplished in time, things I would regret not thinking over, and surely neglect if not somewhere writ.
So I sat down to complete a bucket list, and the gravity of the task became clear. It’s not a list to be penciled on a Post-It and stuck to the bathroom mirror, not a dictate to iPhone Notes. It must be considered that the final draft might be inscribed with a welding rod in a continuous bead across the mettle of my being.
I had to first be certain of what I didn’t want attached to me, associated with the memory of me. Only then, could I set to the business of deciding.
A Contrary Approach
- A gymnast
- Children to raise
- Even gifted and/or disadvantaged ones
- X make, X model car with certain options
- Lucky dice
- You, with fewer difficult aspects
- Kobe beef
- Near-Earth orbit
- Further tourism of any sort
- My complete genealogy or any part of it
- Reconnecting with X
- A night out with a famous person
- Ambitions adopted to improve me
And what did that leave? Well, when I was done, turned out my bucket list was more of a bucket with one big thing in it. I want to see myself honestly through other eyes, minus interpretation or judgment. Except my own, I reckon. And this is entirely doable.
What I Need
- Two trustworthy people
- Unknown to me, not overly attached to sleep, can be taught to master a video camera, and will work in 12 hour shifts for a solid month;
- One good video camera and accoutrements (already have), plus many terabytes of storage capacity in DropBox or similar;
- The temerity sufficient to grant all-access passes to two strangers, have them follow me absolutely everywhere, and never turn the camera away.
I’m nearly there. Finally:
- A couple weeks of quiet time
- The guts to watch the uncut footage
Anyhow. I wanted a list.