Category: Bucket List

Historical Bucket List

Bucket List, Entertainment, History

Triggered by this article (“Brits wish they’d seen these top 25 historical events”), I thought I’d put together my own list of historical events I’d like to have witnessed firsthand.  (I know, I wrote a similar post a while back, but times have changed.)  They are in no specific order of preference.

  1. Gunfight at the OK Corral
  2. Sinking of the Bismarck
  3. Wright Brothers’ first flight
  4. Battle at Little Big Horn
  5. Eruption of Krakatoa, 1883
  6. 24-hour Le Mans race, 1934 (from several vantage points)
  7. The Beatles playing at the Cavern club in Liverpool
  8. Battle of Hastings, 1066
  9. Any Blaze Starr performance at the Two O’ Clock Club
  10. Bombing of the Eder Dam by RAF 617 (“Dambusters”) Squadron
  11. Constitutional Convention, 1787
  12. Great Fire of London, 1666
  13. Any Led Zeppelin concert, 1970–71
  14. London Blitz, September 1940–May 1941
  15. First performance of Stravinsky’s Rite Of Spring, 1913
  16. Battle of Rorke’s Drift, 1879
  17. Borg–McEnroe Wimbledon final, 1980
  18. Liberation of Paris, 1944
  19. Trial of Galileo, 1633 (assuming I could speak medieval Italian)
  20. Battle of Marathon, 490 BC
  21. 1906 San Francisco earthquake
  22. Assassination of Julius Caesar
  23. Alvin York’s heroic action in France, 1918
  24. The deaths of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
  25. Queen Victoria’s wedding night

Your choices (any number up to 25) in Comments.

Probably Not

Bucket List, The Gun Thing

I’m sure that there are many people who would jump at the chance to own “the world’s most powerful handgun:

…I’m just not one of them.  Especially at $1.75 every time I squeeze the trigger.

Frankly, for that much money, I’d rather have two Ruger Super Blackhawks, in the more-manageable .44 Rem  Mag:

 

That falls under “not under-gunned” in the dictionary.

Tangential thought:  as any fule kno, I’m in favor of guns, whatever their caliber, action, or any of that.  And of course, I’m not a fan of the “Who really needs a gun like this?” question, as “Because it’s there” is good enough for me and should be good enough for anyone.

That said:  I just can’t get my head around the extra-large-caliber handguns like the above, or the Freedom Arms in .475 Linebaugh:

…or the Magnum Research BFR in .45-70 Govt, to give but two further examples.

I mean, they’re great as oddities or conversation pieces;  but I just can’t see myself ever carrying one out to hunt with.  Can anyone ‘splain to me why this should replace a rifle out in the field?

Maybe it’s just because I can’t see why anyone would want to go hunting with a handgun when there’s a perfectly good rifle for the job, e.g. a Marlin Guide Gun (which I want, very badly btw):…but I’m willing to learn.  Feel free to enlighten me.

Bucket List Entry #9: The Edinburgh Royal Military Tattoo

Bucket List

I’m not sure that anyone does pageantry like the Brits. For one thing, some of their spectacles have been going on longer than many nations have been in existence, and for another, they take place in the setting of Britain, the country with a history that dates back well over two thousand years.

The Tattoo isn’t one of the former: it’s only been going on for just under seventy years — a veritable child compared to, say, the coronation of the new monarch.

But of course, the Tattoo takes place in front of the storied Edinburgh Castle, one of the oldest buildings in the Western world, and the theme this year was “Splash Of Tartan” which harkens back to the mid-17th century, when Bonnie Prince Charlie’s Jacobite Scots were defeated at Culloden, whereafter the wearing of the tartan was forbidden, bagpipe-playing was banned, the Scots were disarmed and the Gaelic language was suppressed.

So of course, the official welcome this year was given in Gaelic, a ceremonial toast of whisky was taken by the guest of honor — a British officer who served the drinks to the clan leaders:

…and then came the massed pipe bands, playing, amongst others, the mournful Skye Boat Song:

Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing
Over the sea to Skye;
Carry the man who was born to be king
Over the sea to Skye.

I am not a man with Scottish roots, and in fact there are many things about the Scots of today that I deplore; but even I had a tear running down my cheek.

I talked about my previous Bucket List item (tea at the Ritz Hotel), which I enjoyed for so many reasons; but the Tattoo was unbelievable. Everyone who goes to Britain in summer — during the month of August — should make a point of going. The crowds are immense, the atmosphere electric; and when the ceremony finishes with the Lone Piper playing his melancholy melody atop the battlements of Edinburgh Castle, I promise you that you will never forget it.

Bucket List Entry #8: High Tea At The Ritz

Bucket List, Travels

So last Tuesday  I met up with on old friend whom I last saw in South Africa over forty years ago (!), and whose two sons (who both live and work in London) very kindly invited us to tea at the Ritz Hotel to celebrate the occasion.

I’ve had high tea before, often, when I’ve been in England, at places like The Pump Room in Bath and at Fortnum’s (to name but two of the snootier places), but never before at the Ritz. Even though I’d once stayed there a couple of days, that was a business trip and there was no time to enjoy the relaxing pleasure of sitting in the Tea Room and having elegant flunkies cater to one’s every need and whim, with no time pressure, no limit (the food and tea are, of course, bottomless) and to cap it all, a glass of their signature champagne.

“More tea, sir? A different tea this time? Of course, sir. And more scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam, sir? Right away.”

I know, I know, it’s a bloated plutocrat way of living, but good grief, how I love it. The food is beyond description.

Best of all, though, is that the sheer majesty of the place puts everyone on their best behavior. All around us were people dressed well: jackets and ties for the men, elegant dresses and such for the ladies, no loud chatter or noise — just the murmur of voices, the clinking of silver flatware on china, and in the background, a piano player giving us a tour of the old standards.

And this wasn’t an English Rich White Person event, either; the Ritz has always catered to people from all nations, so it was like 57 varieties in there — but all dressed impeccably, all well-mannered, and all enjoying one of the great treats in life:  tea at the Ritz. I have no idea how much it costs (it’s probably online somewhere) and one does have to make a reservation, such is its demand. Whatever, it’s all worth it once you’re there.

Anyone who goes to London and doesn’t do this, at least once, has done themselves a profound disservice.

And my deepest gratitude to Hamish and Andrew for the invitation. I will never forget it.

Bucket List Entry #7: Chelsea Football Club

Bucket List

I’ve been a fan of Chelsea since about 1972, so I can’t be accused of being a fan only after they became successful in recent years. Oh good grief, no: I remember all too well the Mediocre Years, when the Blues seemed simply content to be the perennial #5 in the league (after Man U, Liverpool, Arsenal etc). No, having suffered all that time, I’m enjoying their recent successes (European Champions League and English Premier League winners). Obviously, I’ve always wanted to watch The Lads play, and as such it’s very definitely on my Bucket List.

Today I’m going to Wembley Stadium as the guest of Longtime Brit Friend Mr. Sorenson to watch Chelsea play against hated north London rivals Arsenal in what is essentially a replay of this year’s F.A. Cup Final — which Chelsea lost (!) — so excuse me for being a little excited. I even have my old Chelsea hat, bought lo so many years ago.

Go The Blues!!!!

Update: We lost on penalties after a 1-1 tie at full-time. Ugh. But I captured a flag.

Actually, I don’t care about the result. A Bucket List Event with a good friend, with beer and good times: pure gold. Thanks, Sor.

OMG Lord’s

Bucket List

So scratch this item off Ye Olde Buckette Lyst. Yes, I went to watch England play South Africa on Day 2 of the First Test match. Here’s the Grace entrance (named after the 19th-century cricketer, W.G. Grace, sometimes called the father of cricket).

Here’s the view from my seat in the Edrich stand. The Members’ Pavilion is the brick building on the right.

I’m not going to describe the action on the field, because it would be incomprehensible to most of my Loyal Readers (and the Brit Readers would have seen the highlights already anyway).

Some impressions of Lord’s.

1.) The ground was full to the brim, but for some reason, Lord’s has not worked out how to manage crowds. Lines into the several (not many) pubs, restaurants and snack bars were long and service was slow. Given that most of the people are there to watch cricket, and the breaks in play are short, this means that a huge number of people are going to miss parts of the match, and they did.
2.) The seats are all padded, and very comfortable. Compared to most all-metal seats in U.S. baseball grounds, at Lord’s you sit in comfort (a huge plus when the game starts at 11am and finishes after 6pm).
3.) With the exception of some visiting fans (Seffricans, ’nuff said), the crowd are fairly well-behaved, despite an astonishing amount of booze served. (Seriously; you may buy champagne by the magnum, and take it back to your seat.)

On this specific day, my fears of rain interrupting or even ending play were completely unfounded. It was sunny, and searingly hot (temps around 95F). I got sunburned — blisters-on-my-skin sunburned. Not to put too fine a point on it, I burned like a British person. My Afrikaner dad is doubtless spinning in his grave that my neck is in fact red.

Here’s one thing I noticed: the women who go to cricket are, with the exception of the Seffrican chicks, all impeccably upper-class. How did I know? By the way they looked. I did not see a single tattoo on a woman, all day — and in the heat, let me tell you, there was a lot of womanflesh on display. Here’s a representative sample:

When I later commented on the non-tattooed women to Mrs. Free Market, she remarked dryly, “Well, cricket’s a sensible game, isn’t it?”

My kinda people.

Despite the heat, despite the loud Seffrican spectators, despite the long lines to the service areas and despite the lousy play of the South African team, I was at Lord’s.

Words cannot express my pleasure, and my gratitude to the Free Markets for making it possible.