Options Still Available

At 45, I’m slouching toward middle age. I sense doors on possible futures slamming shut with alarming regularity. I’m scared to make a bucket list, because I fear all I could muster for my list would be the following:

1] purchase bucket

2] place bucket on head

3] bang head until I forget all the things I’ll never get to do

The 18-year-old me would be shocked at the way he turned out. To be fair, the 18-year-old me had unrealistic expectations; it’s unlikely that I would ever have become co-lead singer of Roxy Music and Chief Justice of the International Criminal Court.

Nevertheless, to appease my former self I offer a shortlist of achievements that remain possible. For safety’s sake, I have included a more plausible alternative with each.

1] Play Che in a remake of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Evita.

SAFETY OPTION: Sing along to YouTube clips of “Let the Sunshine In” from Hair until my son storms off because he can’t hear his iPad.

2] Run a marathon.

SAFETY OPTION: Complete a weekend Orange is the New Black marathon.

3] Act humble when admirers marvel at my luscious head of hair.

SAFETY OPTION: Act like I don’t hear it when a lady at Safeway marvels at the length of one of my eyebrow hairs.

4] Curate a world-renowned collection of tasteful yet artistically daring nude photographs.

SAFETY OPTION: Catch a glimpse of sideboob on the Skytrain.


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