1. Learn to play the freakin' guitar already.
2. Taste black truffles.
3. Meet Oprah and thank her.
4. Go white water rafting again. Maybe a girlfriend getaway.
5. Visit New York City for two weeks.
6. Build a self-sustaining healthy house on a plot of land large enough to have a big, gorgeous dog that never poops close to home, some sheep, a big garden, and fruit trees but close enough to other people that if someone came to murder us, there would be people to hear the gunshots. Yes, I think of these things. Often.
7. Publish a work of mostly fiction. Change the names and details of people I know such that they really have no idea I'm writing about them, the fools.
8. Go to art school.
9. Own a log cabin on a lake where you're allowed to shoot people if they seadoo. Because that's two sports in one: Cottaging and Target Practice. Equally stress relieving, I'd imagine.
10. Compost with worms.
11. Finish knitting Montana's baby blanket.
12. Travel Europe and Russia with Jude.
13. Throw a neighborhood carnival block party, raising money for a family in need or other worthy cause.
14. Somehow make international adoption easier. Get airlines to give free airfare to people who are picking up their international adoptive children.
15. Learn pottery.
16. Maybe do a mini-marathon. Note the hesitation.
17. Get nearly all my body hair lasered off. Celebrate with a naked stroll in a park. (Yes, that's a joke but I shouldn't have to say so.)
18. Learn to really sing.
19. Go scuba diving somewhere really colourful and take photos. And live to develop them.
20. Go horseback riding again.
21. Make pesto from scratch.
22. Make a stuffed salmon encased in pastry that's cut to look like a salmon.
23. Learn to really, properly swim.
24. Have an all-girlfriend canoeing-camping trip with someone who can play guitar. Woman with the longest leg hair the next day doesn't have to paddle back.
25. Memorize all the best Scrabble words and tactics.
26. Send my boy on a mission abroad and have him come home a man, in one piece.
27. Lead some kind of teen counseling sessions-- maybe for sexually abused girls?
28. Develop all my online photos with journaling comments before Facebook experiences a server failure or some equally horrific turn of events.
29. Live in Venice, Italy for a few months.
30. Grow peonies.
31. Learn to can my own fruits and veggies and then actually do it.
32. Visit Vancouver.
33. Visit the Salt Lake Temple.
34. Roll down grassy green hills in Ireland. Leave before I fall in love with some rogueish Irishman with THAT ACCENT! See how thoughtful I am, Jude?
35. Catch some fireflies again. Then let them go.
36. Catch some frogs. Then let them go.
37. Get my braces off. Celebrate by rubbing bread and carrots and salmon all over my teeth and then making out with Jude.
38. Get into really fantastic shape. Feel strong and healthy.
39. Become buddies with Julia Roberts and Jennifer Garner. We would totally mesh.
40. Replace my husband's suits and successfully condition him to iron his clothes and enjoy piecing together stylish outfits.
41. Write a song and sing it/play it for Jude.
42. Be in the chorus of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat.
43. Finish reading War and Peace by Tolstoy.
44. Read The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens.
45. Have a house of mine appear in Canadian House & Home Magazine.
46. See a ghost or an angel. Anyone from another realm will do.
47. See Prairie Home Companion live.
48. See Jack Johnson play from the front row someplace intimate.
49. See Cathy achieve her dreams, however that happens.
50. Be so rich that I can give away money and help all the time to people who both need it and deserve it. Teach a man to fish and all that.
51. Buy a much nicer camera.
52. See Les Miserables live.
53. Learn Photoshop.
54. Get this house finished.
55. Enjoy grass and tree ownership again.
56. Visit the Great Wall of China and leave my name on it somewhere.
57. Become fluent in French.
58. Learn basic Italian.
59. Become fluent in sign language.
60. Become a pretty good chess player.
61. Memorize more jokes.
62. Remember history studied and study more.
63. Become more charitable in my heart.
64. Have an Etsy store.
65. Visit London, bump into Jude Law and have him quickly fall in love with me then turn him away because I'm married and Mormon enough to care that I'm married, which will only make him love me all the more, of course.
66. Design my own house blueprints.
67. Teach Daisy to read and watch her silently devour books.
68. Be in a musical/play with Daisy.
69. Take a hot air balloon ride only for a mile and only about 100 feet in the air because that's just crazy to risk your life like that.
70. Never visit Disneyland or Disneyworld. Ha!
71. Make healthy cookies I actually love. For my grandkids.
72. Learn how to break dance. Or at least do that move where you support your body just on your hands tucked under your belly? That move.
73. Hold a hand stand for at least five seconds.
74. Do a back flip. With a belt on. Tied to the ceiling.
75. Hear James Taylor play live.
76. Become friends with Rosie O'Donnell.
77. Be able to roll in a kayak.
78. Adopt some older children when my kids are older or be a foster parent.
79. Have some of my poetry published. Under a different name.
80. Have a butler's pantry right off my kitchen and have it extremely organized at all times.
81. Raise my children to be nonjudgmental, kind, good, humble, open-minded but critical thinkers. And happy.
82. See Jude write his book. Have it published.
83. Swim in an Italian grotto.
84. Host a dinner under a large canopy-like tree, with candle lanterns.
85. Be able to do one pull-up.
86. Meet Thomas S. Monson.
87. See my sister happy and well-off in B.C.
88. Meet my all of my virtual friends.
89. Teach my girls hand clapping games.
90. Sleep in a hammock in Hawaii with mellow island beat music playing and with the waves splashing in the background.
91. Go seashell hunting near the Bay of Fundy.
92. Take a cottage vacation alone where I can read, and paint, and write and sleep for 13 hours straight.
93. Be mortgage and debt-free.
94. Get Lasik eye surgery.
95. Hire a housecleaner and have her over twice a week FOREVER.
96. Since my house will be so clean: Have fresh flowers year-round.
97. Learn to juggle.
98. Join Toastmasters.
99. Learn to cook Indian.
Okay, so I'm adding these guys to my playlist. Unless this is a personal video. @ me the details so I can google them!
Posted by: Gabrielle Valentine | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 10:59 AM
Just click on the video and it takes you to You Tube and you'll see that their name is Just Jack.
Posted by: Natasha | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 11:01 AM
Loved it!! Maybe if you name your kid Jack they'll grow up to be a cute guy singer that can sing acoustic, island music. My nephew is Jack, when he get's older I'll get us front row tickets to his show. ;)
(I think his dad (my bro) and mom named him after Jack Johnson. My brother introduced me to Jack Johnson years ago, and they played him at their wedding ceremony instead of traditional music.)
Uh, I just realized, that might not be the singer's name at all. I just assumed. :)
Posted by: Katie K | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 12:08 PM
I couldn't hear the vocals on the first part at all... and even after listening twice, can only make out some of the words through the rest of it. Sounds nice though, if a little odd.
Posted by: JulesD | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 01:21 PM
Apparently all of you have better hearing then I do!!
Posted by: JulesD | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 01:21 PM
Ya, I assumed so too. He is kinda cute.
Posted by: Natasha | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 01:47 PM
I'll transcribe, Luv.
Drag myself from my bed about twenty past six. Get my kids up, make breakfast: 1 egg, 2 toast, 3 Wheetabix. And as I sit down I look up and you're standing in the doorway sun at your back in my old brown dressing gown. Well, no one could love you more than I love you now. But I gotta go, running for the bus, coat flying and I'm trying not to miss it this time but the driver's waiting and that's strange. Kids on the top deck quiet for a change. And there's no rain and no road works in the bus lane and all my hurts run away. And I'm smiling as I'm punching in.
The day I died was the best day of my life. The day I died was the best day of my life. So, tell my friends and my kids and my wife that everything's gonna be alright. The day I died was the best day of my life.
Now the secretaries they got a smile for me and the intray on my desk's almost empty and I get a memo from executive Joe saying Rob the Gob is getting kicked out for embezzeling funds from the company account and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't chuffed 'cause I always hated Rob and now they'll probably offer me Rob's old job.
And in the park at lunch there's no winos on my favourite bench. None of that drunk chat and none of that pissy stench ["greasy" in the edited version]. And the scrawny pigeons with the gammy legs decide to dine from someone else's sandwich instead and there's something about the city today like all the colours conspire to overwhelm the grey. And this close to the fire I can feel no cold, but a rainbow halo around my soul.
[Chorus]
So, I leave work get to the high street and I miss my bus. Should I wait for another? No, I can't be arsed. I begin to walk and rush hour crowd seem to part like the Red Sea and I'm stopping at the offie (offy?)-- 20 cigarettes and a six-pack to relax me. And as I cross back over the street, I guess I never saw that taxi.
[Then the 99 red balloons part]"
I like this song's lyrics because he's just talking about a regular day. Nothing much special except for Rob, the skeevy scheamer getting fired, a good thing for everyone but Rob, and he might get promoted to Rob's job. Otherwise, it's a day with his kids and Wheetabix and his wife looking schlumpy (probably) in his housecoat and he's never loved her more than that schlumpy moment, and people are thoughtful and smiley and the world seems good and colourful and life worth living, and he has a sandwich uninterrupted and he's looking forward to chillaxin' at home and... then he dies. Which sucks. BUT, the point is that he died happy and he didn't die happy because he was a movie star hanging out on a luxury yacht, he didn't even sound like he had some sexy high-powered job. He had a regular life and he was able to find the beauty in the small, everyday bits and he died happy.
Don't we hope we all die happy, not seeing death coming? And wouldn't we want our loved ones to know that we were happy and they shouldn't be afraid to carry on without us and be happy without guilt and have faith that everything will be alright?
I like how he doesn't just say "Tell my wife and my kids I'll be alright" but his friends too. Because friends are family too.
Posted by: Natasha | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 02:24 PM
Thank you for the transciption! I think I'm becoming hard of hearing!
I see your point now about how it was just a beautiful ordinary day. I can understand and agree with that, and that he's just an ordinary person, like most of us. It is very well written, indeed. Very poetic.
I still find it odd somehow though. It may have been his best day, but it's his wife and kids' worst, so I guess I have trouble matching the two scenarios of the his best and their worst with the happy tune. I suppose I'm being a glass half empty kind of person today. I must be tired. :-)
Posted by: JulesD | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 04:05 PM
No, I see your point, for sure. Jude said to me, "An artistic choice." He didn't like the morbid mention of death.
I look at the whole song as a message about how we're all alone, really. We are all born, we all die and we all live our lives and choose our perceptions. Yes, he dies but then his wife and kids and friends all have their own lives to live and they will get over the pain, hopefully, and when they die, hopefully they can say the same thing that it was the best day of their lives.
Posted by: Natasha | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 04:24 PM
Yeah, not to sound overly morbid, but I am looking forward to death (not afraid of it at all). Not in the "I'll help it happen sooner" way, but I am excited to experience the freeing, all encompassing love that I am sure is coming my way! I totally get what he is saying.
Yes, the people still here will be sad. But like you said, N, they will get their day(s) to bask in the love.
(However, I do have ways that I would prefer not to die.... I just haven't given them much thought. Definitely not interested in going in a violent way.)
Posted by: Katie K | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 05:36 PM
Aaaahhh, light bulb moment... I think one, of many, things that would bias one's (or rather my) perception of this song is a person's religious beliefs and beliefs of what happens when one dies. I can't believe I missed this earlier. Katie K's comment is what made me aware of my own bias on this topic... I'm an atheist, so to me, I don't see it as "freeing" or that any "love" is coming my way upon death. Ah ha... so now it makes more sense to me why I see it differently. And, really, you think we're all really alone? I'd have to think about that statement some more, not sure I agree with that, but it probably deserves more thought before I decide my opinion on it. It certainly is a thought provoking song!
Posted by: JulesD | Tuesday, August 04, 2009 at 09:57 PM
LOL. Well, I wasn't thinking of the after life at all. I was thinking about life, really. We're all alone in the sense that we decide on our own who we want to be and how we want to live. Only we know how we feel and experience things. Only we know our thoughts. And when we die, we die alone. We are all having our own independent experiences that are completely unique from everyone else who has ever lived. And we do it all together.
Posted by: Natasha | Wednesday, August 05, 2009 at 12:02 AM
Oh... I can see that. Like the explanation in a book (forgive me, cannot remember the name of it!) about parenting that says we are all in the same boat... not ONE same boat, just the same KIND of boat, all floating along in our dingy's waving at other people.
Posted by: JulesD | Wednesday, August 05, 2009 at 12:45 PM
Cool. Exactly.
Posted by: Natasha | Wednesday, August 05, 2009 at 12:59 PM
Yes, one of the great paradoxes of life. We are all alone, and yet all one. Our individual life experiences are ours alone - how we see the world - our biases - our filters - some given to us through our culture, religions, etc. But still so individualized, that as Natasha said, one can never truly how another perceives things and why. HOWEVER, the sharing of our humanity, makes us all one, too. We all have the same basic needs: food, water, love.
Posted by: Katie K | Wednesday, August 05, 2009 at 02:53 PM
I agree I love the feel of the song and the way the group seems like they are singing in your back yard.
I laughed when the camera man kept allowing the girl in the back ground become the focus rather than the band. Classic.
Posted by: Jeff Shattuck | Thursday, August 06, 2009 at 11:41 PM
That song made we want to stay awake, even though I feel like I've been trampled by a thousand medium to large sized rhinocerii while I slept. Yes, that's the feeling two drinks the night before leaves me with. TWO.
Ha, I run to 99 Red Balloons!
Also, it's fun to make up words.
Posted by: Katherine | Saturday, August 08, 2009 at 07:33 AM