notes from
the MUCK . . .

How does your garden grow? With muck, muck and more muck! I spent much of today finishing the final muck box and then shifting muck from one box to the next. The first box, which the Big Lad is enthusiastically pointing out, has been rotting down for two years now and once we’d removed the top quarter of unrotted material, we found we’d hit the pay dirt.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

30/30, Fuck It

No, I'm not going to post about the brilliant but under-appreciated Automator/Del album of nine years ago, and no, I'm not happy about pushing the gloriously delicious English pickles that are Ben's first posts in ages down the proverbial page, but I need your help.

Next year I turn thirty. Can anyone put a stop to this?

No, no. Settle down. Barring a freakish intervention of Black Magic, I doubt that anything will stop me from reaching that next, Grand milestone of maturity. My twenties are rapidly disappearing in the rear view mirror of the used Ford Focus that is my life, and I'm comfortable saying I'm a little sad to see them go. On the other hand, I'm excited about another decade of socially acceptable juvenile behavior. For as the Gods said, thirty is the new twenty-one.

To mark the transition into manhood, I have decided against any typical muck like buying a house or acquiring medical insurance as appropriate modes of celebration. Instead, I'm making a Bucket List. Or, as I prefer to call it (since I'm a grown-up now), a Fuck It List. Perhaps the concept is best illustrated by an example:

Since I was six years old, I've always wanted to own, or at least pilot, a remote control airplane. My parents couldn't afford to buy me one, and by the time I had an income of my own, I couldn't justify spending it on a pricey toy that I'd only play with five times. Consequently, the closest I've ever come to playing with one was the time that Ben brought his UFO into the office. But guess what? I'm turning thirty next year. So Fuck It, I'm going to fly a remote control airplane.

Notice I didn't put flying a real airplane on the list. I've always wanted to do that, too, but the idea here is to create goals I can actually achieve (reading War and Peace, for example, won't make the list either). Now, I don't have much money was it is, and in this economy, I'm especially limited in my options. While I'd love to do something grandiose like spend a month on the Galapagos Islands, I know better than to include it on my highly exclusive, and yes, somewhat prestigious Fuck It List. Because if I did, I would never be able to mark it off the list, and given my track record for not seeing things through, the last thing I want to do is kick off the next ten years with a dismal, and publicly documented, Failure hanging over my head.

So the rules for the Fuck It list are simple:

1) the list shall be comprised of thirty fun or important things to do in the year I turn thirty years old
2) these things shall be generally affordable and relatively easy to accomplish
3) I have to write about each of them on this blog as I check them off.

So what I need your help with is finalizing a list. I can, and obviously should, come up with most of them on my own. But I want your input, too. What are some of your favorite life experiences that I might want to consider for the list? Or, what are some experiences you simply want to read about me undertaking. Should I take a scrapbooking lesson? See Gene Simmons in concert? Slaughter a calf with my bare hands?

What would be on your Fuck It list? And no, Katy, you can't say Robert Pattinson.

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