Death Wish (See Pittsburgh and Die)
Now that we know what they are, who among us doesn’t have a bucket list?
Mine is write a novel, see Venice, and see Pittsburgh.
See Pittsburgh, you might ask?
For some reason, Pittsburgh has factored in a recurring dream in which I’m on a bridge at the confluence of the Ohio, Monongahela, and Alleghany Rivers. So I’ve always kind of felt I should get there and check things out, all of which has been reinforced by my cousin Ellen’s mentioning that she and her husband were headed to Pittsburgh for a few days, and seeing a Property Virgins episode that took place there. (If I decide to stay there, I know you can get plenty of house for short money.)
So novel, Venice, and Pittsburgh are high on the list.
But, in truth, if I don’t write that novel, see Venice, or see Pittsburgh, I’ll probably live. Or die.
Yes, that’s it. I’ll do both.
Bucket lists are interesting, of course, as they get us thinking about the things that we might want to get to before we cross the final chasm. Personally, the things that I regret not doing are not ones that I can do much about at this point. No do-overs on the big ones, I’m afraid.
I like to think that if I only had a few months to live, I’d forget the novel, forget Venice, and even forget Pittsburgh.
First, I’d get a second opinion.
Then, assuming I was well enough, I’d go to the google and try to learn just what to expect along the ghastly way.
Assuming that the second opinion were the same as the first, and that I could quickly assimilate what I learned on the google, I’d spend my remaining time with the people I love. When we weren’t together live and in person, and if I weren’t lying around morphed up on my death bed, I hope I’d be trying to figure out ways I could smooth out my untimely departure for them, lining up ways to take a bit of care of them after I’ve slipped away, and writing long, meaningful, humorous letters to them that they could read in the whenever. Maybe I’d sneak a trip to Ireland in; maybe I’d clean out my junk drawers.
I think it’s safe to say that one of the last things I’d do is join yet another social network:
…to make friendship with those unknown people from corners of the world with different ethnicity, culture, traditions, value systems, life style and much more but having only one thing in common and that is the ‘Last Wish’.
This is the premise behind My Last Wish, an app to unite those with the same last wish to “unite”:
…on the “Wish Wall” to share their last wish with the world and find out those people with similar wish as yours before you die, get connected to them and be friends forever.
Where ‘forever’ might not be all that long.
Naturally, the media is picking up on this as ‘death wish’, ‘wish for the dying,’ etc.
Well, never underestimate what might end up appealing to the Baby Boomers, but I don’t see the audience for this.
I would suspect that most of those who are staring death down are going to be thinking more along the same lines I believe I will be, rather than heading to the App Store to nab this app and see who else out there always wanted to see Machu Pichu, tell the Pope off, or jump out of a cake.
As the owner of a lame-o Blackberry, I couldn’t do it anyway. iOS only at this point, but if the app takes off, it’ll be on to Android.
(Something tells me that, while iPhone and iPad cross generations, Android users skew younger.)
And if this app isn’t going to take off with those who lay dying, I don’t see it having much appeal to the younger folks either.
Although you never know.
I suppose young people who have seen someone close to them die young might start thinking that they might actually be mortal, too. Still, I don’t see people in their twenties, thirties, or forties spending a lot of time thinking about what their ‘last wish’ might be. That time should be spent thinking about all the things you want to do over the course of a presumed long life, not that last thing on your list.
Come to think about it, isn’t that how we should all play it, no matter what our age is?
When my mother died at age 81, she had been volunteering three days a week, and had three trips planned.
She was going to Chicago for a family wedding; on a church bus trip to Cape May, NJ; and on a tour of Vienna and Prague.
She did have a last wish, of sorts, from her hospital bed. Since she wouldn’t be going to the wedding, she wanted to make sure that one of us sent $50 to my cousin Ellen’s daughter Kate as a wedding present.
Beyond that, I suspect my mother more or less got her last wish. She died surrounded by her children (well, 4 out of 5, anyway), and died with the belief that she would be reunited with my father.
No iOS app for that!