Pages

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Bertha’s Bakers Dozen™: The Anti-Bucket List

     Everyone seems to have a “Bucket List” these days.  A list of the mundane, overrated, outrageous, cliché, and otherwise wonderful things a person could possibly hope to accomplish before … ahem … kicking the bucket.  Well, Letterman has his ten; Bertha has her Bakers Dozen … and this time, it’s an Anti-Bucket list.  We’ve all heard about wanting to see the Great Pyramids, drinking pink champagne under the Eiffel Tower, and achieving perfect Zen in Tibet, but what about those things that aren’t so great?  Here is the Bakers Dozen list of those things I will never attempt no matter how long I live:

  13) Own a cat.  If you’re a cat lover, prepare to be offended.  I’m allergic to cats.  I hate cats.  I loathe cats.  I find nothing good in cats save their innate need to kill rodents.  And cat aficionados are irrefutably the worst.  “My precious Fluff-Fluff is not stupid.  She’s just too smart to be trained.”  Yeah.  I’ll let you think about that one for a while. 
  12) Climb Mt. Everest.  Is this not the dumbest goal ever invented?  You wanna know what’s up there?  Huh?  I’ll tell you what’s up there.  Snow.  There.  Now I’ve spoiled it for you.  And while I’m at it, Bruce Willis’ character is dead, the North won, and she leaves the convent in the end.   
  11) Go camping ever again.  Falling asleep in a bag nestled inside a nylon house securely locked by a plastic zipper so I can swear off showers, eat like a hobo, smell like a fireplace, and get eaten alive by anything with wings, claws, or teeth … sign me up! (not)
  10) Be a telemarketer.  Who applies for THAT job?  “You know, I think I’m tired of this rat race.  I’m sick of making other people rich while I try to decide between an oil change and toilet paper.  I know!  I’ll cold call people to sell them things they don’t want at prices they can’t afford all while they are trying to eat dinner.  It’s perfect!  Mom will be so proud!”  
  9) Swim with sharks.  Who thought this was a good idea?  Sharks are predators and predators kill, in case you haven’t figured that out yet.  If you’re going to do something this stupid, why not just pack up a sleeping bag and share a cell with some guys on death row?  Bologna sandwiches, weight lifting, male bonding … sounds like a prime photo opportunity!  “Honey!  Get the camera!”  
  8) Work as a zoo keeper.  I can see the ad now: “Do you love the sound of mating Wildebeests?  Does the smell of unwashed animal bodies and fly-infested dung baking in the hot sun send happy chills down your spine?  Are you ready to ditch the corporate world for the possibility that you will be stung, bitten, gored, trampled, or devoured before 5:00?  If this is you, come talk to us!  Wear boots.”     
  7) Work as a zoo keeper.  I meant daycare worker.  Oh well.  Same thing, really.
  6) Work in a grocery store deli.  Serving every mindless nudnik in town who stands agape in front of the deli case for 20 minutes trying to decide between two bologna brands and then keep adjusting the knob on the slicer to get said bologna to a point where it still holds together yet the newspaper can be clearly read through it … no thanks. 
  5) Go bird watching.  This is a hobby whose attraction has always escaped me.  If I wanted to get up at the crack of dawn with a pair of binoculars, I believe it would have to involve spying on an all-male swim team practice.  That just might be enough to get me up and at ‘em at an early hour.  Man in a Speedo = motivator.  Bird = not a motivator.
  4) Skiing.  I can honestly say I do not understand this one.  Steep hill + man-made snow + removing all traction = not my idea of fun.  I’m all for doing scary things but why attract disaster for the sake of a rush?  Every year, you hear of some poor soul who met his demise by greeting a tree with his face at 40 mph.  Why not just climb the tree … naked … in the middle of winter … blindfolded … running from wolves.  It’s safer. 
  3) Be a contestant on Jeopardy.  Is there anything on earth that makes people feel dummer … dumberr … dumber … (that’s it; dumber) … Is there anything on earth that makes people feel dumber?  You see a category called “So Hip” and you think you might be good at it.  Then the questions end up being stuff like, “In August of 1976, this patent number was issued for an artificial hip-joint for arthroplasty” and then some bespectacled nerd in a plaid suit slams his buzzer and screams “What is 3974527, Alex!”  And Alex smugly nods, ever so slightly annoyed that he isn’t the only one who knows that patent number by heart.  Usually at this point, I take my shred of dignity to the kitchen for a piece of chocolate humble pie and a dollop of beaten self-confidence.   
  2) Be a church janitor.  I think I would do everything else on this list twice before I spent one day as a church janitor.  Their job is never done and their work is never good enough.  He could clean the place 25 hours a day, 9 days a week, using 5 metric tons of bleach every hour, on the hour, and some old lady will walk into the blindingly white, sparkling bathroom and huff, “This place is filthy.  I don’t know what that janitor does all day.”  Younger people aren’t any better.  They seem to think that their children will die of thirst and wither away in a matter of seconds if they aren’t armed with a sippy cup full of sticky juice on their person at all times.  No sippy cup is perfectly leak-proof, I don’t care what the package says.  These droplets of juice that dribble everywhere dry, attract ants and a subsequent uproar over the “stupid janitor” and his lack of attention to detail.  Here’s a newsflash for you: your children will survive for one hour without a cup.  If they MUST have something on them at all times, make it water and water alone.  I have nothing but pity for church janitors.  Who knew Holy water is the devil to clean up? 
  1) Be a runway model.  I just don’t have the patience for that kind of pressure.  Besides, the airport isn't hiring in this economy.
 

 © Bertha Grizzly 2011.  All Rights Reserved.  No duplication or distribution.

No comments:

Post a Comment

All comments become the sole property of Bertha Grizzly. Positive comments always welcome. Negative comments may be deleted, ridiculed, or made the uncredited, uncompensated, unwitting topic of a future blog post.