My Bucket List of Christmas Gifts
December 04, 2011, By Greg Hoard 0 comments
After you have been on this earth for a while—made your bones, so to speak—you have probably acquired most of the things you want or need. That’s why it’s so baffling when your wife or one of the kids asks, “What would you like for Christmas?”
Birthdays and Father’s Day are just as worrisome. Somehow, there’s a feeling of failure when you can’t come up with a single thing you want, because you know—deep down—all they want to do is please you.
I’ve given this some thought and come up with a few ideas. Some are wistful; some are wishful. Some are impossible and so costly that they are, in my mind, sinful. (Just because you can afford it doesn’t mean you should have it.) Still, it’s a list, maybe a “bucket list” of wishes.
Obviously, any list is subjective, a product of background and influence. You may find this list helpful. It may help you create your own list. If not, there you go. Enjoy another sweater.
The List
- Ray-Ban Aviator Sunglasses. Nothing looks better and little functions as well. Forget Tom Cruise. Think Harrison Ford, Bobby DeNiro. Think Chuck Yeager or George Preddy, pilots who spent a fare share of time staring into the sun.
- Jeans that really, truly fit. Not too tight in the thighs and not too loose in the waist or rear end. Over the years, it seems I’ve tried every brand. No luck. They all come with a pinch, a bind or that diaper effect.
- A Wilson A-2000 outfielder’s glove. Because you are never too old to play catch.
- A Navy pea coat. The original, the genuine article. Classy. Warm. Plus, you never know when you might have to ship out.
- Spanish lessons. Pretty soon everyone in America will need to speak some Spanish. Besides, I’ve always found it interesting that we citizens of the United States are about the only people in the world who expect everyone else to speak our language.
- A conversation with Elmore Leonard. The man is 80 years old and has written something like 50 books. For my money he’s a storyteller with few peers.
- A trip to Normandy. This is where my father fought during D-Day and Operation Overlord, and was awarded the Bronze Star. Maybe this would help me understand. I never did.
- A real Samurai sword. Just imagine cutting a birthday cake with one of these or lopping a watermelon in half. It’s always fun when people think you are little nuts.
- A special “smart” television. I want one that would automatically omits all of those Housewives shows. You know, "Housewives from Orange County," "Housewives from New Jersey." Egad, I don’t know what’s worse, the drama or the drivel. It’s just like "The Jerry Springer Show"—with one exception. These women live in mansions not trailers.
- Romeo Y Julieta Reserva Real cigars. For the money (under $6.00) and the taste (superb), the best cigars on the market. A box or two should do it.
- A day to walk around Fenway Park. Alone. I don’t want anybody seeing me standing in left field or in the batter’s box imagining what it might have been like to stand in Ted Williams’ shoes.
- A case of Cakebread wine, Pinot Noir Carneros, 2000. Because the nights are getting chilly.
- A round of golf. At Augusta National. With JP, Charlie Johnson and Tobe Hall, three guys who are as bad at the game as I am.
- Another real good black Lab. Labs are the perfect running mates and friends. They are kind and considerate. No matter the pace, they adapt.
- Finally, lessons on how to lay brick. Sooner or later, we all have to rebuild.
