Bucket list


Before Michael Jordan retired, I had wanted so much to travel with the Bulls (as a fan) and watch every game for one entire NBA season, home games and away games. If I had been Bill Gates’ son, I would have really done it. Imagine what great fun it would have been if that year coincided with the last leg of the Bulls’ second three-peat! But alas, it was never meant to be.

There is the still possible list, of course. I want to eat batchoy in Iloilo. Eat sisig at the riles in Angeles. Eat chicken inasal in Bacolod. You get the drift. I’ve done the local part of the list mostly. What I’ve yet to do is drink lager in Germany (a German friend has brought some to the Philippines, but it’s not the same). Sip champagne in France. Eat pancit in China. When I finally get to drink that shot of ouzo at the foot of the Parthenons, I can die a happy man.

Right now, I am actively looking for angel investors to help me with one item on my list. I want to start a gym. Name it, pseudo French-like, “feauty le tee”. Because you know what? I believe every man, before he kicks the bucket, should be able to tell himself that he has literally exercised in “feauty le tee” (read that as: futility).

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