Not Exactly a Bucket List

This is a list of things I just realized, tonight, that I hadn't experienced firsthand yet in life, and probably never will.

1. Worn a jockstrap, or even really known what one was

I'm serious. What is a jockstrap? I feel like it's underwear with a really strong band, and the "pouch" area is made of some kind of sanatorium-shade plastic like Hannibal Lecter wore on his face when he was on the Krazee-Dolly. I played sports the entire time I was in school, but I only wore "tightey-whiteys," and there was rarely a time in which I wished I'd been wearing more cumbersome underwear.

2. Attended a perfect beach bonfire full of hope and promise 

I think there is this American ideal scenario where a popular group of lithe, tanned, loosely-but-tastefully dressed teens or young adults gathers on the beach for a bonfire that lasts well into the night. Simple things are grilled over the flames, and there is fun booze like bubbly, can beer, maybe a little brown liquor. Everyone has something warm and cozy to wrap up in if the evening air gets brisk, and the likelihood of pairing off with someone you've had your eye on all night is very real. But it's not a night of going straight for penetration; the warm tribe environment and end-of-our-last-summer-vacation feel encourages couples who have privacy to open up to one another, and even recognize within themselves honest attraction beyond the sexual.

I think I ran out the clock on this one when I started growing weird bent hairs on my back.

3. Gotten an MBA

At times I realize that in order to really make a fortune it would help to know the basic vocabulary and principles of traditional business, but then I'm like, I don't want to sound like a dick when I talk. Whenever I overhear a guy going on about reduced vestiture schedules, or the Brazilian gelatin futures market, I know I'm hearing a man who cleans his hair extremely hard every morning and could not respond to true beauty in a way that would be satisfying to observe. I may not have any money, but the first time I heard Jimi Hendrix's Little Wing I couldn't get out of bed for three days.

. . .

I almost put "been in a band" here, but you never know. Perhaps late one quiet fall night I'll be on the couch, reading, with the window open, and I'll hear the faintest strains of live music coming out of a neighbor's garage. I'll walk over, surprised and excited by my boldness, and out of their little window they'll see me looking in from the sidewalk. An unused guitar will be leaning against an amp cabinet, and they'll wave me in. I'll strap it on while they vamp, and lift my pick between thumb and forefinger, and then, suddenly, those many decades I spent practicing the first ten seconds of Greensleeves and La Bamba will all have been worth it.