A couple years ago I went through a death phase. I thought about dying ALL THE TIME. I'd cross the street and imagine an SUV pummeling into me. I'd contemplate details. Would my blood splatter on the road or would my bones break but my skin be left unscathed? Would my eyes close? Or would they stay open and just stare blankly until the paramedics deemed DOA?
If I saw an intimidating (READ: scary) man approaching, I'd visualize him pulling a gun and blowing my brains out. Would I feel anything? Would my parents seek the death penalty? Or would my dad take the law into his own hands? What would the newspaper headline be? Maybe "Vagabonder Gets Executed, Father Seeks Revenge"?
Perhaps the best example of this admitted neurosis happened during an exit exam. I was alone in a small room when I heard a low, consistent rumbling. The walls started shaking. I envisioned a monster tidal wave approaching. Thousands already dead. Trapped. I wouldn't panic at first but then I'd discover that the door was jammed. Water would fill the room until my face touched the ceiling where I'd make one last dramatic statement, "Whhhhhhyyyyy?"
Never mind that I lived in Ohio, miles away from the ocean, unleashed violence and more subes than SUVs.
If I saw an intimidating (READ: scary) man approaching, I'd visualize him pulling a gun and blowing my brains out. Would I feel anything? Would my parents seek the death penalty? Or would my dad take the law into his own hands? What would the newspaper headline be? Maybe "Vagabonder Gets Executed, Father Seeks Revenge"?
Perhaps the best example of this admitted neurosis happened during an exit exam. I was alone in a small room when I heard a low, consistent rumbling. The walls started shaking. I envisioned a monster tidal wave approaching. Thousands already dead. Trapped. I wouldn't panic at first but then I'd discover that the door was jammed. Water would fill the room until my face touched the ceiling where I'd make one last dramatic statement, "Whhhhhhyyyyy?"
Never mind that I lived in Ohio, miles away from the ocean, unleashed violence and more subes than SUVs.
I've had a healthy break from Six Feet Under and my morbid visions have lessened considerably. But ever since the recent death of a family member I've been revisiting thoughts about my own mortality.
Aside from what my dad calls "recruiting", the minister at my uncle's funeral emphasized that if there is one positive outcome of funerals it is this: people are forced to reflect on their lives and evaluate their own desires.
Aside from what my dad calls "recruiting", the minister at my uncle's funeral emphasized that if there is one positive outcome of funerals it is this: people are forced to reflect on their lives and evaluate their own desires.
Some people make "Bucket Lists". A list of things they want to do before they "kick the bucket". I have a list. I refuse to call it a Bucket List. That movie stunk worse than my mom's armpits.
Here's my list as of April 23, 2010:
-skydive-be an extra
-learn how to fly a plane
-ride in a hot air balloon
-live in NYC
-learn karate or kung fu or tae kwon do or something where I can kill without a weapon
-adopt
-write a book
-live in a tee pee
-learn to play the guitar
-learn to play the harmonica
-take an Around the World trip
-get knocked up
-work on a sheep farm in New Zealand
-travel: Cuba*China*Mongolia*India*Nepal*Texas*Indonesia, Maylasia, Southern Thailand*Antarctica*Australia's Outback*Chile (EASTER ISLAND)*Argentina*Brazil*Serengeti
-see the Northern Lights
-walk across the United States
-wear a bikini
-take the Transiberian across Russia
-run a marathon
-motorcycle through South Dakota, Montana and Idaho
-go to the Burning Man festival
-Full Moon Party
-Kentucky Derby
It's healthy to think about life and death, especially when mourning a loss.
But overthinking can be toxic and this is my own way of saying goodbye.
My mother commented that people might get the wrong impression about listing "knocked up". My response is this: I could have worn a bikini in high school or college, if I really wanted to.
ReplyDeleteI just read your "bucket list"... after posting my own anti-bucket list haha. I really hope you write your book inside your teepee on a NZ sheep farm. I think it would be my favorite book of all time. I also hope you entitle it Vagina and Smoke.
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