I keep seeing all these comments about writing a bucket list. On it people put such outrageously dangerous feats as sky diving, climbing Mt. Everest, and deep sea diving. Makes me wonder what in the world are they thinking? I have old bones, bones that break easily, and can’t imagine being in a body cast at my age.
Besides, my bucket is already full. Oh, I’ve never done any of those things, nor do I desire to, but I have done some unusual and exciting things in my life.
On top of the list already in my bucket is I flew when flying was still fun. I’ve flown in a bi-wing stunt plane with the world’s first spaceman, Joe Kittinger and I have the tee shirt; took a ride over the seven hills of Fayetteville in a glass-bottom helicopter; did touch-and-gos at Drake Airfield in a B29 bomber; took a flying lesson in a Cessna where I laid hands on the controls myself; and while flying back and forth between New York and Wichita, Kansas flew from Chicago to Wichita in a Connie, (Constellation) which is a prop plane that spit fire from the engines the whole way. That is an impressive list in itself.
But wait! I’ve handled 30 foot Reticulated Pythons, played with white tigers and walked
around in a house filled with a variety of snakes slithering around and about my feet. I’ve shared stories with reporters from National Geographic, and met some pretty famous authors in this business.
So what if I’ve never been to Paris? After living in and around NYC for nine years, I had my fill of big cities, and don’t care if I ever see another one.
Just because I don’t have a bucket list doesn’t mean I’m not striving to do more things with my life before it’s done. But I’ll keep both feet on terra firma, unless someone offers me a ride in an F-16 or a Hot Air Balloon. You might call that a tea cup list. And I’ll keep writing and interacting with some of the greatest people in the world. Other authors and my readers.