Wednesday, 27 November 2013

The anti-bucket list – or things I’m quite happy to die without doing.


I have never camped at any sort of festival, and I’m not sorry.  Maybe I could contemplate a day at Bestival or Latitude, but I was never young enough to have enjoyed the crowds, noise and mud you see on TV coverage of Glastonbury, and I certainly wouldn’t pay the huge ticket prices to watch antediluvian “stars” make prats of themselves. I do think that the Rolling stones ought to retire immediately. If they watched themselves on TV, I think even they would agree. Mick Jagger, never the most physically attractive man, is simply repulsive now. His weird lizard’s neck and skinny shanks are just awful, and the way he moves (he was never much of a dancer) is genuinely odd. And it’s quite obvious that Keith Richards isn’t playing a note. As for his appearance – well, you could have an anti-drugs poster with his picture and the line “Don’t do drugs. You might end up looking like this.” If it was a full length picture showing his ominously swollen belly, it would be even more effective.

Television shows I will never watch include:  East Enders; Britain’s Got Talent;  The X Factor;  Inspector Morse or any of its spinoffs; Poirot;  Murder She Wrote;  Midsomer Murders; The Wire ; and 24.

I have to admit that I did waste some time on Downton Abbey, Homeland and Lost, but realised pretty quickly they were crap.  I can’t deny that I have watched some pretty poor TV and films, but stories must have an end, and shouldn’t just ramble on until the ratings finally drop.

I never want to do a bungee jump. It isn’t the throwing oneself off a height that bothers me, it’s the way the jumper gets yanked up again. That looks simply horrible, although I suppose it’s better than not  being yanked back up.

I have never eaten eels or tripe. I once read a recipe for preparing eels and decided then and there that I couldn’t eat them. I wasn’t eager even before that – their repulsive dog- type faces put me off. Tripe was the one food rejected by our dog. As he would eat maggoty fish heads at the sea side with every sign of enjoyment, refusing tripe was a pretty powerful statement.

I’m quite content never to see Australia. There are so many places I really want to see that don’t involve days on a plane.

I have never had a manicure, pedicure, facial, bikini wax or “pampering day”. I have never had my hair or face “done” for a wedding, although three of my children have got married. I’m genuinely proud of that.

I’ve never had the slightest interest in motor racing or golf, and I know I haven’t missed anything. Even swimming galas aren’t as tedious as those as spectator sports.

There’s also some things which I feel I’ve tried hard enough at, and now I’m old enough to give up on.  Such as dance. I have tried, really I have. I’ve seen the Bolshoi, and the Mariinsky, and Fonteyn and Nureyev dance together at the Royal Ballet, and it’s no good. I can admire the athleticism, but it leaves me completely cold. And if you didn’t already know the story, you’d never, never, work it out from the dance.  As for modern dance - it is just laughable, to me.

I’ve also given up on modern art, except for sculpture. I don’t know why that’s the exception, but I can often get something from it, whereas most modern painting, and all installations and videos, leave me wondering what on earth is the point of them. And then the artist writes a long explanation of what s/he intends to convey, which I don’t think should be necessary, and when you read the explanation you think, well, is that all


It’s quite reassuring to list the things I’m happy never to do – it leaves more time for the things I still want to do!

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