One of these Days I’m Gonna…

Loving stolen from Allie Brosh

Lovingly stolen from Hyperbole and a Half

 In no particular order: 

… Go to the dentist.  Get my teeth cleaned.  Maybe get the dentist to figure out why anytime I eat meat, about half the animal gets stuck between my teeth and gum. For about a day. Which drives me insane.

… Finish the “Fence That Never Ends” in the backyard, redo the front fence, and rehang the front gate that has not been right since the Missus backed into it (sort of like I did last night while racing to be on TV and win a new car which did not happen).

… Go whole hog and get a new pair of glasses – frames and progressive lenses with a BRAND NEW prescription from an eyeball doctor.

… Write a fricken book.

… Or two mebbe.

… Call a plumber to fix the pathetic bloody shower.

… Downsize, cash up, buy a place in the country, with a carport for a motor home, a four wheeler, and a two-holer kayak for me and a big dog-to-be-named-later.

… Hold in my hand, a professionally recorded and mastered CD of Number One Son’s greatest hits, recorded at Neil Finn’s Roundhead Studio, up the street from where I used to work.

… Get through an entire meal with the Chinese in-laws and understand what was said, grasp the cultural and historical significance of it all, and feel part of the whole fire drill (this will soon be possible thanks to our Google Overlords).

… Have a big, roaring fireplace, with a huge pillow in front, where I can snooze and listen to Junior’s tunes, with a big dog-to-be-named-later’s head happily resting on my chest.


… Understand the story of my Indian tribe, the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, write an intro in our language so that, if it’s ever needed again at a NZ marae, I can give a short “mihi” that tells of my people, my mountain and my river.  (Well, maybe not so much the mountain, being from Oklahoma.)

… Actually print and frame cool photos saved on my laptop, phone and various USBs which I have been carrying around for years; pics that include me with a couple of Prime Ministers, various dogs and babies, and many gorgeous pics of the Missus.

… Get a new pillow for the bed. Not too fluffy, because that give me a stiff neck; not too skinny, because that gives me a stiffer neck; but just right for me and the Crack Puppy, who is a total pillow hog.

… Buy a proper pair of black dress shoes for my midget duck feet (5 ½ E with an ‘A’ heel) to replace the square-toed “warehouse worker” design that I mis-ordered over the Internets.

… Develop a hobby. Something that does not involve deadlines or stress or complexity.  Something that does not require skill or intelligence or manual dexterity. Something that does not take up a lot of floor space or cost a lot. Something that is fun and relaxes me. Something that does not, technically, exist.

… Delete most of the 4,277 emails in Outlook’s In box, and the 1,654 in my Sent outbox.

… Properly sort out my computer files so that I can actually find stuff in folders without using the search function. (Thank you, God, for the search function).

… Have a grandchild that I can spoil absolutely rotten.  As often as possible.  In ways that make everybody in the family snarky, except the baby and me and the big-dog-to-be-name-later.

… Have enough money to spend the Fall in ‘Merica, where I will watch Norman High and Sooner football, enjoy the Fall leaves in Oklahoma and Arkansas, eat my weight in TexMex, and play endless games of Horse with my Buddy (in between John Wayne movies and gin-and-tonic breaks).

… Read the 100 “best books ever written”, or at least start them, and have the freedom to pitch them if, IMHO, they suck.

… Read the best 100 Catholic books ever written and blog about each one.

… Buy a new pair of thick cotton track pants to use as winter PJs and send my disgusting, stained, stretched out, holey “trackies” to the rag lady, if she will have them.

… Have an actual bottle of whisky in my own damn house (for Man-Flu hot totties) and a bottle of Gin (in case of snake bite or open cans of tonic water).

… Buy an expensive, ergonomic recliner that was actually designed for a Hobbity person with a bad back and a squishy Crack Puppy, or two.

… Buy an iPhone, God help me, or an Android that, one day, will let me adjust and program my hearing aids easy peasy.

… Visit America in the Spring.  So I can enjoy the blooms and flowers and Hay Fever. OK, forget this one.


… Get rich and take my Big Fat Extended Family, round-eyes and almond-eyes, on a pilgrimage to Rome, Fatima, Lourdes, Assisi, with side trips to Paris, London, Barcelona and, without doubt, New Orleans.

… Get professional counselling to recover from the Chinamerican Pilgrimage.

… Rent a motor home and do a proper, lazy tour of Middle Earth and really enjoy the most beautiful place on Earth.

… Give away my cowboy belt with “Billy” on the back and an oil bit belt buckle because, at this point in my life, it might wrap around my thigh.

… Spend a few hundred dollars on DVD study programs about Scripture and Catholic Tradition & History.  And then actually COMPLETE them.

… And speaking of TV… get a big, damn HD TV that does all the whizzy technology stuff, like change the channel without a one-second delay, get all the channels, and uses only ONE remote to control everything, including my hearing aids.

… Get a heat pump and central air conditioning.  So that the three weeks a year when they are needed in Auckland, I can be cool or toasty.

… Lose 10 pounds.

… Har.

… Better yet, locate and purchase drawers-full of the Sansabelt slacks for the Mature Man (e.g. “maternity pants for OkieBoomers”).

… Buy the Missus a new house.  And a new car.  Neither of which I have done lately.

… Study martial arts again. Not the kung-fu of my youth.  Something more age-appropriate, which uses the traditional Sansabelt Gi.

… Buy a water blaster and blast every damn thing on the property.  (Missus and doglettes not included. I hope.).

… Punch Dave Barry right in the face, and NOT because I am envious or anything.

… Buy a brand new car.  Just to have done it once.  Damn the depreciation.  Who am I kidding…

… Buy a toupée and an artificial hand and walk around downtown, just so the hot babes can totally throw themselves at me.

… Take another three-day silent retreat.  Every 30 years is about right.

… Smoke a real Cuban cigar.  Just before being admitted to the Emergency Room for respiratory failure. Cough. Hack. Wheeze.

… Put new doors on the bathroom cabinet so it does not look like it was made by the Pilgrims. Or beavers.

That’ll do.  For now. 


2 Responses to “One of these Days I’m Gonna…”

  1. Lillian L.. says:

    Considering the gate latch…I’d scratch that last item off your list so you don’t hurt yourself or implode your entire house. Just saying…

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