2013 hit us like a supercharged steam engine, and I haven't even written about it yet! No resolution list, no predictions, no Twitter diaries, not even a status update. Truth be told, I mailed it in back in August when my 2013 edition of the Mayan calendar didn't arrive. I was pretty sure that this apocalypse was going to be the real one. Turns out, I was wrong. December 22nd came, and I'm glad it did.
I wasn't exactly whitewater rafting, bull riding, or skydiving in the months leading up to what I thought would be the end, so I did a really bad job of "making the most of it." I was still working a 9 to 5, wading through the months leading up to the end of time. And boy, did I learn a lesson. Never again will I trust another prediction of the apocalypse. Not this upcoming time. I'm sorry Harold Camping, but I will no longer be responding to your emails.
Even though I wasted my time in 2012 when I shouldn't have, it doesn't mean I'll waste my time in 2013, even though there really isn't any predictable rush. I'm making a vow for 2013—a hypothetical to-do list that many of us should set out to-do. A list slightly like any other, but different in the sense that none of these items below comprise anything that will "help you improve yourself."
Milk a subgenre that appears to be working, and mash it up with other successful subgenres. Then write about the sexcapades of a magical vampire.So why might you do this? Because you're bored. We're the kind of people who will watch the run of entire shows within the span of a couple days on Net?ix. Just because we didn't post about it on Facebook doesn't mean we didn't do it. I know you people. And it's okay. America has had some of her greatest innovations sprung from boredom. What I'm doing here is making an attempt to write something hypothetical for my amusement, while offering you things that are completely spontaneous to alleviate these aforementioned spurts of boredom. Do a few items from this list, and you'll have easily replenished your lost spontaneity.
So to make up for my tardiness, I burnt some midnight coal to put together this list. I know it wasn't the greenest use of my resources, but like I said, I was late, possibly living in an underground bunker, and in a tremendous hurry to get this out post-apocalypse.
1. Get into more sword ?ghts.
2. Learn better swordsmanship.
3. Somehow get up in a hot air balloon.
I'll cut to the chase, spoil the surprise, end the suspense, and let you know that these ?rst three items are the most crucial. If you do anything out of the norm in 2013, please make sure that you get into a close-quartered sword ?ght at high elevation in a hot air balloon.
4. Meet Sharon Stone.
5. Meet Bill Pullman.
6. Meet another obscure celebrity and tell them about your encounters with Sharon Stone and Bill Pullman.
7. Visit every bar on Carson Street in Pittsburgh.
I know, random. But Pittsburgh is just the right combination of East Coast bar upkeep and Midwest lack of tact. Even if you don't prefer either approach, just trust me when I tell you that it's great to drink in excess in a nice city with such a true blue collar feel like Pittsburgh.
8. Write the next great American novel.
Let's see… vampires, sex, and magical protagonists seem to be all that's selling on the ?ction tables at Barnes and Noble and getting attention from the New York Times. Given that reality, and the pace at which pop culture turns over ideas, why not just do the ole "Milk and Mash": milk a subgenre that appears to be working, and mash it up with other successful subgenres. Then write about the sexcapades of a magical vampire. There's your prompt, race you to the top.
9. Change your ?rst name to an action verb, then change it back.
Yeah, this will terminate the balance in your checking account, but just trust me on this one. When the inevitable day comes when your kids start to accuse you of being a lame old man, you can point to your days as an action verb.
10. Monopolize TouchTunes and play nothing but "Night Moves" by Bob Seger.
This song sets such a great tone for a Saturday night at the bar. Of course after hearing it 42 times in one stint, it'll never have that effect again. But it'll always be a great "remember when?" story.
11. Pet a jungle cat.
Tiger, lion, panther, cheetah or leopard. The risk of losing an extremity for the rush of petting the coat of a dangerous predator is always a fair trade.
12. Progressively thin your eyebrows until someone notices.
Just a few hairs today, a few more hairs next week. First person to ?nally say "what the fuck?" gets a reward worth the price of upholding your secret.
13. Understand who Studs Terkel was.
If you want to try #8, maybe you should examine #13 ?rst.
14. Have a 6pm Scotch-fueled business call.
It doesn't matter the business, it just matters that a call is conducted somewhere from the bottom of a glass of good Scotch. I recommend Bowmore.
15. Get through 40 minutes of "Dude, Man, Fuck."
Take a drink each time any character on the movie The Big Lebowski says "dude," "man," or the F-bomb. The unof?cial world record is 25 minutes.
16. Gain 30 pounds, then lose 30 pounds.
Pull a true Christian Bale. Put it on through the gluttony of any number of gut-bombs (bacon cheeseburgers, chili dogs, pure mayonnaise, etc.), then eat lean and work out like a ?end. Take self-photos throughout the process to show your progress and disturb your friends.
17. Listen to an album on CD from ?rst song to last on a CD player.
18. Use a water trampoline.
Not sure that's exactly what they're called, but you know what I'm talking about.
19. Talk like a public address announcer for a day.
At least pretend that you have a radio voice for a day. And don't worry, your friends will eventually come back.
20. Play an entire game of Monopoly, then burn the board and bury the house.
21. Devote 5% of your taxable income to scratch-off lottery tickets.
It's the closest thing you can do to "living with the homeless" without "living with the homeless."
22. Like Sawyer Brown on Facebook.
2013 is a year to be gutsy.
23. Do a Polar Plunge.
Most cold weather communities do this. It's also called a Polar Bear Swim. Don't worry, your heart shouldn't stop permanently.
24. Pick up a Bavarian dialect.
There are three… choose wisely.
25. Paint a giant canvas.
At least 4 by 6 feet, and feel free to get sloppy.
26. Perform a Charity Drinking Telethon (or Skype-a-thon).
First, learn how to set up a live feed. Second, sign off on your liver. Once you're ready and committed, and you've Facebook ad-whored the shit out of your drink-a-thon, ?nd someone to take calls, texts, and inboxes, and keep track of the charitable pledges. Set a dollar amount equivalent to an amount of alcohol that you'll imbibe, and remember that you're doing this for the children.
27. Consume everything on the Starbucks menu.
Even the bistro boxes.
28. Swan dive into three different oceans.
If you're residing in North America, I say de?nitely go for the Atlantic and Paci?c. After that, it's a toss-up between Indian and Arctic.
29. Compose an equally eclectic list of challenges for 2014.
If any of you out there somehow accomplish all of these tasks—and you aren't Vladimir Putin—then for Christ's sake tell me your story!