Killer gifts

As I was leaving the grocery store, I walked past the little bank embedded in the front wall.  To give it that homey, “We’re the faceless corporate behemoth that cares!” vibe, sometimes they put out a whiteboard with a handwritten message.

This was the whiteboard message today:

bucketlist

(Author’s note: For those unfamiliar with the terms, a “Christmas list” is a list of all the gifts a child (or adult) wants Santa to bring them.  A “bucket list” a to-do list of all the experiences a person wants to achieve before they “kick the bucket” (i.e. die).  A “Christmas Bucket List”, by extrapolation, is a list of all the things and experiences a person wants have before they die on December 25th.)

I’m still trying to wrap my head around some of these items.  As I write this, today is October 29th.  Christmas is 8 weeks away.  If I found out I had two months to live, here are some of the painful conversations I would have with my friends and loved ones:

 “Regrets?  Yeah, a few.  Tools, mostly, I guess.  I never really got to experience the joy of belt sanding.”

“It’s not fair!  I never got to watch old Andy Griffith Show reruns in hi-def!  Why, oh why did I put off getting a new television?”

“Dear God, I’m not ready to die.  If you would just give me a few more years on this earth, I promise I’ll get an iPhone 6.  Amen.”

“I’m ashamed to admit it, but all of those home-cooked meals people will bring by would have been a lot more appetizing in a new kitchen.  But there’s never as much time as you think…”

“You tell yourself, ‘No hurry.  I’ll get furniture someday.  It doesn’t even have to be new furniture.  Just…furniture.  You know, an ottoman, or maybe a credenza. <sigh>  A divan would have been nice.'”

“PS4?  iPad?  Those are for old people!  The kind who have furniture and belt sanders!  I’m too young to watch Netflix!”

“You know, I don’t want to be one of those people who looks back on his life and says, ‘Boy, my garage was really old.'”

(Disclaimer: My only regret will be if I pass away too suddenly to be able to say with my dying breath, “I wish I’d spent more time at the office.”  It’s not true, but I hate that cliche.)

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2 thoughts on “Killer gifts

  1. Oh, now, bad enough not to have done any belt sanding, but to go to your grave without having belt sander races? That’s unthinkable. Quick, get to a Home Depot and correct that life-oversight before they catch you!

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