Now I can cross watching the Bucket List off my Bucket List

25 Sep

I remember when I first learned about the Bucket List. It made me very angry. Why would you put a list in a bucket? Anyway, what is the deal with Morgan Freeman narrating every movie in creation in that folksy voice? I mean, his Lordship? Just the combination of Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson makes me feel tired. Morgan Freeman is always the angel on the shoulder and Jack Nicholson is the devil. Seriously? Why don’t they put in Britney Spears as the singing slut and Asif Mandvi as the Indian guy and Honey Boo Boo as the . . . well, I don’t know who Honey Boo Boo is, so scratch that. Anyway, typecast much???  I already know everything I need to know about this movie. It’s like Alvin and the Chipmunks. You feel like you’re just sitting in at some horrible pitch meeting—“It’s like the Shawshank Redemption Meets One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, only with pyramids and old guys!” Box. Office. Gold.

And so, the tiresomely ideas of what a person would do with endless amounts of money and no imagination grind on, montage style. Alter kackers jump out of the airplane! Woo hoo! Dining on caviar in Paris!!!  Chitchatting with the pyramids in the background. Endless jokes about “What’s the worst that could happen—it’s going to kill you?” Oy!

The plot grinds on with the “naggy” wife begging the rich guy to send his rent-a-friend home so she can spend her last months with him. I mean, it’s so reasonable that if you’re going to die, you leave your wife of 40 yearsecause some rich guy is offering you some “me time” visiting the Pyramids. What harridan could deny you THAT?

And rich guy, how about if you buy some African villages some malaria nets or some damn thing, so some African kid can have a chance to reach adulthood. And win the Nobel Prize someday. I mean, malaria tents are  ten dollars each, just sayin’.

And then. . . climbing to the top of Mount Everest. Okay, I’ve never been there, but I am pretty damn sure what’s up there. So let me give you a little vorspeis, an amuse bouche, a snacketizer of what you get for your money and the oxygen tanks you will be littering into the formerly pristine wilderness as long as your corpse no doubt—you get snow. You get ice. You get frostbite. You get talked about behind your back in Sherpalese for being a greedy rich pig. You feel like the king of the world—KING OF THE WORLD—as if by stepping on its highest point, you yourself are elevated over the rest of humanity.

In the movie, a glamourous Indian beauty says you see stars like you’ve never seen stars, and Morgan Freeman’s eyes light up with admiration and excitement. And I think, Stars, schmars. I got six months, I know exactly where I’m going to spend it. And it’s not going to be humping up Pain Mountain so I can brag into my grave I did it (also, what is this magical Hollywood land where people who are going to be dead in two months have the energy for this sort of thing? It makes me want to lie on my fainting couch just thinking about it.) Seeing the top of Mount Everest is exactly why we have National Geographic. It’s kind of like housecleaning in my opinion: so dangerous it should only be done by professionals.

Anyway, my one reason for actually watching the Bucket List, aside from the fact that I could put it on way in the background of my mind as I made tedious corrections, was that I thought maybe it would give me an idea or two to scratch off my own bucket list (okay, it’s not kept in a bucket!). But if I had six months left, I know what stars I would want to see: the stars that shine in the eyes of people I love. I would want to look at their dear faces, and hear their jokes, and learn everything I could about their secret dreams and worries. I’d want to intertwine myself more deeply with my husband, my children, my friends, and treasure each person. I wish I would finish my first novel at least—I would work on that. But jetting  around frenetically, no. The real magic, music, and mystery of life is deeply embedded in our simple humanness, right here at home.

Is that homey little secret uncovered by the duo. . . ? Are tears jerked? What do you think, my friends?

Prompt: What’s on YOUR bucket list?

5 Responses to “Now I can cross watching the Bucket List off my Bucket List”

  1. Julie Goldberg September 25, 2012 at 5:40 pm #

    I want to see olives growing on trees, publish at least one book (preferably a best-selling, award-winning one, but I’m not fussy), and go to Europe. Having already cleaned out my basement, there’s so little left standing between me and a perfectly happy life.

    • alexandrahh13 September 27, 2012 at 3:23 am #

      It PAINS me that you have not seen an olive growing on a tree. I think there should be a fund for that.

      • Julie Goldberg September 27, 2012 at 12:46 pm #

        There is! It’s labeled “Kids’ College Fund.”

  2. Kathy W. September 26, 2012 at 4:26 am #

    Funny and lovely, Ms. Hex. Like yourself.

    • alexandrahh13 September 27, 2012 at 3:25 am #

      Aww, thank you and likewise, My dear Ms. W.

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