Bucket List

For fun, my daughter Sara and I have been making up book titles for years. We were motivated by a little book entitled UNDER THE BLEACHERS, by a guy who claims his name is Seymore Butz. It’s a series of 250 punny book titles that have “never seen the light of day.” (Amazon $4.95). Warning: it is full of groaners that will turn even your best friends against you. 

Our list is about three single-spaced pages.  Just a few samples: I got the chicken pox by Dottie Oliver. Massage Techniques by Dottie’ Oliver’s brother, Hans Oliver. Out of Sight by Alta Mind; Overcoming Fatigue by Willie Todd; Toupees by Balthazar Q. Ball; Bucket List by Ben Thayer and Dawn Thatt. It is okay for you to boo and hiss. I’ll quit while I’m ahead with The Existential Question by Toby R. Notabee. 

My bucket list doesn’t have much on it these days. Faraway places with strange sounding names are no longer calling me; nor strange beds and pillows.  I’ve been to HELL and back, a town on Grand Cayman Island, and to Switzerland several times, known as HEAVEN ON EARTH. I haven’t been EVERYWHERE yet; there’s no town by that name. But for the most part I can say: “Ben Thayer and Dawn Thatt.” I’ll never visit Machu Picchu, see Mount Everest from Kathmandu, or exotic destinations like in the movie BUCKET LIST, where Jack Nickelson and Morgan Freeman, two terminal old guys, take a swan song journey around the world.  I’m quite content to travel vicariously and free to almost anywhere in the world from the Comfort of my easy chair by Hugh Toobs.