We just talked about my plans to take a monster road trip with the new vehicle once it arrives. Well, soon after. I’ll need to break it in a little and spend a whole mess of time learning all the features that have been added to cars in the 10 years I’ve been living in the past.
Still, it’s a bold undertaking and will probably end in madness and despair, but worth a shot, no? Except, why can’t people just accept it for what it is…road trip to visit friends in my first new car in a decade.
As I’m gabbing with my elder niece about the car and ensuing (proposed) trip, she asks me whether this is part of a mid-life crisis. I didn’t even know she was aware of mid-life crises, let alone considered her Uncle a likely candidate for one.
I assured her that I was not in a crisis and, for a fact, was already technically past “mid-life” (unless I’m heading for triple digits). This generated a chuckle but I can’t say I was sure she was entirely convinced.
Later, when we were eating lunch with my Dad and Step-Mom, I explained to them my tentative plans and Dad asked me if this was on my bucket list.
What bucket list? I don’t have a bucket list. I’m quite comfortable with my life and over the course of the remainder of it I will do stuff. I don’t list the stuff (frankly, it changes over time) and what I get to, I get to. I don’t see myself whining in a hospital bed that I didn’t get to “#29 of 42”.
For pity’s sake…it’s just a road trip, people!
Now, if I add in my old goal of watching a baseball game in every stadium in America, that might add some extra cachet to the trip (as well as another couple of months), but I don’t think I’ll be that crazy. A trip that long and I might well kick the bucket before I got back home!