I am intrigued by the idea of a bucket list. Everyone seems to have them, ill or not. H - and pretty much everyone else too - says, do all the things you want to do. So, you rack your brains. Number 1, have two fabulous, nutty, kids. Tick. Number 2, be there for them. Well, we might all have to moderate our expectations on that one. Number 3, marry a lovely wife. Ok, that should really be number 1. Tick.
Beyond that, my problem - and strength at the same time - is that I was never particularly ambitious, I never wanted a big house or fast cars or power suits, or to be strutting around the City. I always wanted to get into Cambridge, was desperate to. That turned out pretty well. Tick. But I never wanted a high powered career, nor, as it turned out would I have been suited to one. The reason I say it's a strength is that sort of self awareness can - and has in my case - save you an awful lot of bother chasing things which you don't really want in the first place, but feel you should want.
I had a look at flying in a Spitfire. What Englishman, secretly or not, doesn't want a "go" in these iconic machines? It turns out that, as they were never designed as anything other than fighter planes, it's illegal to carry passengers in them in exchange for money. You can fly near one - i.e., be a passenger in a helicopter which flies close to the Spitfire itself - but for some reason that doesn't appeal quite as much.
Beyond that, at the moment my ambitions are to stay as well as I can for as long as I can. And to put lots of photos up in the hall. And to see all my friends. Perhaps other stuff will occur to me along the way. Part of me - the 19 year old, insecure part - feels like a failure for not being more ambitious with my list. And the other part, the older, and (hopefully) wiser part, thinks, whatever, relax, you're doing fine.
