Columns » Bob Lancaster

The agenda for '95

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Ninety-five things, almost, that I'm looking forward to in '95:

A real snow. With no ice, and the snow about a foot deep.

Learning how to program a VCR.

Telling off some old-timer who's holding up the line.

P.C.'s No. 20 and No. 21 by W.A.M.

Another comeback by Mr. C.

A new book by B.C. Hall.

Divinity.

Meeting my first grandchild.

Saturday afternoons at Oaklawn Park when I'm far enough ahead to lay it in heavy on the last race.

Biscuits on Sunday morning.

A peck of peaches bought at roadside.

Red clover in the median.

Remembering Valentine's Day ahead of time and not having to buy a crummy, pawed-over one at the last minute.

Pelicans over the river.

Lightning bugs and lightning on the same summer night.

"The Far Side," even if they are reruns.

The persimmon trees coming on.

Whatever's on opposite the O.J. coverage.

A refund.

No elections.

Mail from those who understand and care.

The Little Rock library's used-book sale.

The movie about the Gurdon Light.

Dickens and brandy on a frosty night.

Hauling and splitting the firewood.

Turnip greens.

Spy magazine.

Christmas lights of all colors.

Trying to hang on to some of the vanishing world that my father knew.

Nat King Cole.

Sitting around on a cold day wrapped in a quilt that Mother made.

"The Stars and Stripes Forever" on the Fourth of July.

A flea-flicker in a big game.

Filling every square in an especially hard crossword puzzle without cheating.

Japonica.

Boiled shrimp as big as cigars.

Seeing "Harold and Maude" again.

One of these fast-food places coming up with a decent chicken sandwich.

Trying to beat the perennial challenge of Pat Day.

Learning some computer lore that's less than 5 years out of date.

My brother recovering nicely after his operation.

Fall.

Not needing a cigarette.

TV weathermen explaining isobars.

Mail from cranks who don't have a clue.

Green plums.

The animals at the fair.

What Mother called "scraping the pan."

Achieving or acquiring a little of the quality that the Greeks called sophrosyne.

Winning the Publishers' Clearing House sweepstakes, or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

The eggplant casserole at Franke's.

The midway.

Good tea.

Grinnels.

The cartoon with the mysterious crow and "Fingal's Cave."

Deviled eggs.

A cure for what ails me.

The Three Tenors getting together again.

Knowing I've got old enough so nobody will expect me to learn to rollerblade.

Better news out of Cabot.

Going boldly where no one has gone before.

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