How A Filofax Created My “Bucket List”

 As I rummaged through the closet looking for something that I can’t even remember, I stumbled upon my Filofax.  Yes, I did say Filofax. 

 For those born in the 21st century, it’s a small looking folder that contains a calendar, day planner, notepad, plastic sleeves, ruler, pen holder, calculator, etc…  Basically it’s a personal organizer that helps you to manage your time, appointments, meetings and tasks.Bucket9

 It’s really a folder that you write down all the things you need or want to do on a given day and reference it when you can’t recall what it is you were supposed to do. 

 Back in the 90’s it was a real popular thing to have but I resisted the urge to have one because I felt it “dumbed” you down and made you prone to not using your brain to remember things. 

 When I saw the movie “Taking Care of Business” with Jim Belushi and Charles Grodin, my views on the Filofax changed.  I somehow became obsessed with owning a Filofax, even though I had no need for one.  I caved in and bought one to my delight; “I HAD A FILOFAX AND THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERED!

 Since I was in college, I had nothing on my plate except for my classes; I spent money on this thing so I felt like I had to write something in the Filofax to validate me buying the damn thing.Bucket10

 I jotted down my class times even though I already knew the schedule by heart.  I could not think of a single thing to put in it; one fateful day while in class, as the professor was droning on about God knows what, I wondered what I wanted to accomplish in my life.  Now I know that people make bucket lists all the time, but I started to do this when it wasn’t something popularly spoken. 

 One day I had one goal, the next day another and the next day another.  Soon I ended up with 4 and a half pages of things I wanted to accomplish or “Life Goals” as I called it, since I didn’t really know what a bucket list was at the time.

 My list wasn’t extreme like going skydiving, bungee jumping, swimming with sharks or climbing Mount Everest; my goals centered around my career in being an established writer, getting literary representation, sell my screenplays, finding a soulmate, getting married and buying a house just to name a few.

 It wasn’t exciting or glamorous but they were “MY” goals; they were all attainable only if I was committed to seeing it through.  As the years flew by, that Filofax of mine soon became a fixture in an obscure corner of a book shelf and then somehow ended up in storage within my closet. 

 Don’t ask me how or why that had occurred, but it did.  I guess somewhere along in my life things happened that caused me to forget about what I had wanted to accomplish.

 So cut to the present and back to the start of this post, when I stumbled across this decrepit Filofax I immediately opened it and rifled through the pages to where I scribbled my “Life Goals”.

As I looked through the list I made 20 some odd years ago, I grabbed a pen and started to check off what I had accomplished.  The ones that were accomplished put a smile on my face and satisfaction rippled down my spine. Bucket5

As for the ones that I didn’t do, I paused for a moment to wonder why that was.  Clearly it was something that I can still do.  “What’s stopping me?” is all that I could think of.  I felt that it was still a “Life Goal” that I still want to attain.

 As of this writing, I am trying my best to see things through and accomplish what I set out to do when I was a young man in college.  With a little luck, hard work and dogged determination, I know I’ll check off every single one of my “Life Goals” before I take leave of this Earth.  

Sing, sing a song…

singing mike

At one point in all our lives, we’ve either lip synced to or sang along with a song that was blaring on the radio, Ipod or CD player.  For the brief 3-4 minutes we were all rock stars singing in front of tens of thousands of our adoring fans.  We relished in the thought of being the center of attention, the crème de la crème of pure entertainment.  It’s a fantasy that we’ve all undoubtedly played out in our mind’s eye.

As a young kid I enjoyed singing as do most children.  At that age of innocence, we all unabashedly sang out loud to our hearts content regardless of who was around our immediate vicinity.  It didn’t matter if we got the words wrong, we made up new ones just to keep the flow going.  We actually wanted people to hear us; we wanted the spotlight so that we could receive the self-gratifying accolades of all the adults.

Any chance I had, I would burst out into a song; my dad would encourage that habit by recording me and then playing it back to my delight.  At that age I honestly can say that I could carry a tune.

As the years wore on and I got older, my singing in public became less and less.  There was no reason to my recollection as to why it decreased but it happened.  I then graduated to singing in the confines of my room to my favorite songs.  I truly enjoyed it; it even spurred on dreams of becoming a songwriter.  On a daily basis, and in true merriment, I held “one night only” performances.

I even went as far as recording how I sounded acapella style to one of my favorite songs; it was pitchy, out of tune and I realized I was tone deaf.  That put a dash into my dreams of becoming a singer, but that was okay because I still had my “bedroom gig.”

When college rolled around, karaoke bars were slowly popping up.  My friends wanted to go to one because that was the “rage” at the time for all the college students.  To satisfy my self-indulgence, I went along thinking that this was going to be great.  To live out a fantasy even if it was in front of my friends; how bad could it be, I bet they sound just like me.

My experience with a karaoke bar did not go as I intended it.  I soon realized that most of, if not all my friends could sing “well”; and some even had vibrato voices.  My future wife was a part of this group and she had an amazing voice as well.  I truly felt intimidated.  When it came to my turn to sing a song, anxiety set in.

Thoughts started to pop into my mind.

“How am I going to sound among my friends who had the ability to sing well?”

“How come I didn’t know they had such great voices?”

“I don’t even have a great voice to command an applause.”

“What’ll they be thinking when they hear my voice?”

The list went on and on.

When the mike was placed in my hand and I froze.  The song came on and all that my voice could conjure up was a whisper.  I could barely finish the song.

After that incident I didn’t want to be in that predicament again, so I decided to take voice lessons.  It was a sign of hope that I wouldn’t be afraid and it would build my confidence.  It took a lot of courage for me to take private lessons but I overcame them.  I felt good, empowered even.  Should the day come when I would revisit a karaoke bar, I’d be ready.

The day came to showcase my newfound confidence, with having voice lessons and all.  My friends went and all sang beautifully; that did not help my confidence one bit.  When it was my turn, the same thoughts popped into my head.  The body was willing to give it a go but my mind had other plans.  All I could do was whisper the song in a semi-sing song fashion; my friends joined in to boost my confidence.  When that happened, I went into lip sync mode and finished the song.

Suffice to say, it was another terrible experience that brought me down to reality.  I could never in my wildest dreams be a singer.  It even put a damper on my private performances; just could not enjoy my “bedroom gig” anymore.

That ended my stint with singing altogether.  To this day, I won’t even sing “Happy Birthday” out loud…I’ll only do the lip sync version of it with a group of people.  The only bright spot in all of this is that my daughter has a great singing voice with a fearless attitude…I can vicariously live out my fantasy whenever she sings.

It was fun while it lasted…my daughter can now take the reins from me. Now onto my next lifelong fantasy…being a hip hop, B-Boy dancer!

bdancing