By Bob Hamill
Our life is filled with lists. To do lists, shopping lists, list of ingredients, wish lists, top ten lists, goal lists, reading lists and lists of lists. The lists go on and on. This is a list that has to deal with death, the bucket list.
This list has been going on for ages but got a real shot in the arm in 2007 when Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson made a movie of the same name. It’s a very simple concept: things you want to do before you die. I was going to write off the cuff on this subject, but then thought why not Google it and see what’s out there. There are about 67,600,000 results that have to do with bucket lists.
The first site I got had 10,000 things to do before you die. The first hit was an actual page named “Bucket List.” It had 259,000 members with 3,475,608 goals accomplished. Different sites include everything from reaching your ideal weight to skydiving. Now I have a good friend Dick Fortenberry who is an original member of the Army’s Golden Knights sky diving team. In talking to him over the years, I can see reasons you don’t jump out of a perfectly good airplane.
My wife and I have been very blessed. We’ve done things other people dream of. As entertainers on cruise ships for 20 plus years and performing in Pigeon Forge since 2002, we have met fantastic people and visited exotic places. Two places stick in my mind: Greenland is not green and you won’t see much ice in Iceland. At the same time we went to the Canary Islands and never saw a canary, went to the Virgin Islands and … no comment. We didn’t need a list. It just happened.
Why, you may ask, my sudden interest in a bucket list? Well, I’m not planning on kicking the bucket any time soon. I’ve already been paid for the next five columns. While I don’t even have a list, I’m doing something that would be on my list if I had one.
If I had a list it would surely include watching the Chicago Cubs vs. The Philadelphia Phillies at Wrigley Field. It’s something I have always wanted to do. My first stadium was Connie Mack in Philadelphia and I’ve been to several since. It wasn’t until I went to a Smokies game, which is part of the Cubs family, did I realized I had to see Wrigley Field before some idiot decided to tear it down.
So, on July 24, I’ll gladly pay $7.75 for a 16 oz. beer and $5.25 for a hot dog because there’s nothing more American than a beer and a hot dog and the chill and sense of pride I still get when they sing the National Anthem and call out “play ball.”