Under normal circumstances, I'm not the sort of person who compiles a to-do list. This is partially explained by the fact that I have such a list at work, and all else being equal, I would rather the rest of my life be as unlike work as possible. Still, as I cross the half-century mark, there are a few ideas I've had rolling around in the back of my head for some time, and if nothing else, I do tend to document my existence rather thoroughly. The following, then, is a list of Things I've Wanted To Do For Some Inscrutable Reason.

  • Compete in One Lap of America.
    This must be considered unlikely; though I could probably raise the four-figure entry fee, I have no racing experience, unless the New Jersey Turnpike counts, and I'd have to take on a partner for the duration, and whatever my merits as a driver, I am utterly lousy as a passenger and/or navigator. On the other hand, four or five thousand miles in a matter of days? Been there, done that.

  • Get a new bed.
    My last three beds have been hand-me-downs, and while they've been good hand-me-downs most of my friends have better judgment in this regard than I just once I'd like to have something new. Still, there's no room in this cramped little flat for anything bigger than the "full" size. (And another thing: Why is "full" one of the smaller sizes of bed available? A full-sized car is a veritable tank.)

  • Find out what She Who Is Not To Be Named looks like in a little black dress.
    Completed July 2003. (She's gorgeous.)

  • Visit Corpus Christi, Texas.
    If you believe the tourist bafflegab, this is always a treat. But my motivation is simpler: I lived in this town for a little over a year, and it's the only early-childhood home I have yet to revisit. It's a neat two-day drive, and if I get some time off during a cold snap I can't really work this into a World Tour, since it's not on the way to anywhere else unless I suddenly have an urge to visit Weslaco and Harlingen I may actually get to do this.

  • Clear out my magazine archives.
    About five or six years of stuff is piled up in the back bedroom (not the one where I have no room for a larger bed), and really, the only two magazines I can justify keeping are Entertainment Weekly, because I have every single issue, and Playboy, because, well, because it's Playboy. Maybe the really old (pre-1970) issues of Mad. The rest of it, though, has to go.

  • Buy a damn house already.
    Working on it.
The Vent

1 October 2003

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 Copyright © 2003 by Charles G. Hill