Creating a Local 'Luvet List'

Over the next few months, I mused often about pleasures right under my nose that merit more attention. I’ve come to call these my “Luvet List” _(love-it)_, which I am convinced offers a

better return on investment than any bucket list. This index of my favorite things is bound tightly to my particular enthusiasms. Everyone’s Luvet List is unique. Here’s mine: 1. DANCING

INTO THE DAY: Even before checking headlines on the phone, I get energized with some free-form gyrations, which might at various turns be described as shaking, shimmying, swiveling,

stretching, strutting, stomping, prancing, twirling and sashaying. Doing it outdoors in early morning light is even more invigorating. 2. SINGING IN THE SHOWER: A habit I picked up from my

father, who belted out hits from Harry Belafonte, Frank Sinatra, Hank Williams and Big Joe Turner upon getting home from work. I favor Motown and Bob Seger songs. 3. HEARING CHILDREN PLAY:

I’m in the vanguard of a growing army of Americans working out of their spare bedrooms, and it can get really lonely. That’s why I keep the windows open as much as possible to let in sounds

of neighbor kids racing their scooters, re-enacting World Cup matches and making joyful noise for no apparent reason. "THE SECRET OF A GRATIFYING SOCIAL LIFE EXTENDS BEYOND FRIENDS AND

FAMILY TO A WIDER CIRCLE OF ACQUAINTANCES YOU MAY NEVER INVITE OVER FOR DINNER BUT WHO NONETHELESS ENRICH YOUR LIFE THROUGH IMPROMPTU CONVERSATIONS ON THE SIDEWALK, AT THE GROCERY STORE OR

ANYWHERE ELSE." 4. EXPERIENCING THE ELEMENTS: Wind rustling my hair. Sun warming my skin. Grass beneath bare feet. The crack of thunder. Plunging into a lake. The pelt of rain on my

face. Dew soaking my shoes. Seeing my breath on a frosty day. Uncomfortable or not, these things vividly remind us we are alive. 5. SWINGING: If no one’s looking, and sometimes even if they

are, I love to launch myself skyward on a playground swing set. It’s as close to human-powered flight as you can get. Trampolines come a close second. 6. MAKING NOT-SO-SMALL TALK: The secret

of a gratifying social life extends beyond friends and family to a wider circle of acquaintances you may never invite over for dinner but who nonetheless enrich your life through impromptu

conversations on the sidewalk, at the grocery store or anywhere else. My wife, Julie, and I have found that sitting out at the patio table we lugged from our back yard into the front yard

really boosts neighborly connections. 7. SPLURGING A BIT: Seventy-dollar sunglasses. A decent bottle of champagne. Red Wing boots. A 40 percent tip at a cheap restaurant. Gourmet mustard.

Art books. An occasional blues concert. Shelled pistachios. Artisan soap. Renting a convertible for Julie’s birthday — red, if possible. 8. STEPPING OUT IN PUBLIC: What delivers the most

outright joy for me is joining the passing parade of fellow humans wherever they gather: street corners, coffee shops, libraries, bars, record stores, farmers’ markets, beaches, ballgames,

art galleries, churches and ice cream stands. I don’t even need to talk to anyone — just being out among people, noticing how they are dressed and what they are doing, makes me feel one with

the world. 9. GOING TO THE DOGS: Watching dogs is almost as fascinating as watching people. I love their exuberance as they sniff, bark, tug, frolic, chase, fetch and smile their way

through life. 10. PEEING OUTDOORS: Most guys I know admit this is one of life’s unheralded enjoyments. (For women, I understand, not so much.) When my son was young we spent a week every

summer in the woods on Lake Superior, where I shared this manly wisdom. Stopping for a restaurant meal on the way back home, our normally soft-spoken 4-year-old proclaimed to the entire

room: “You’re right, Dad, the best thing about vacation is peeing outside!” 11. MARKING MINOR HOLIDAYS: We can learn something about getting the most out of life from medieval peasants, who

celebrated as many as 60 holidays a year. That prodded Julie and me to claim a few extra celebrations of our own — including solstices, equinoxes, Candlemas, May Day, Bastille Day, Day of

the Dead and the feast of Santa Lucia. Our festivities can be as simple as playing New Orleans music on Mardi Gras or carting boxes of unneeded clothes to the St. Vincent de Paul store on

Martinmas, yet they inject a little specialness into otherwise ordinary weeks. "AS IT TURNS OUT, MY LUVET LIST BECAME MORE IMPORTANT THAN I COULD EVER HAVE IMAGINED. I WAS SCRIBBLING

DOWN IDEAS ABOUT THE RICHES OF LIFE WITHIN EASY REACH WHEN THE COVID-19 PANDEMIC HIT. MY LOVE-IT SELECTIONS HAVE OFFERED ME CONSOLATION AND COMFORT IN THESE TOUGH TIMES." 12. SMELLING

RUSSIAN OLIVE TREES: I used to think I was the only person in the world knocked over by the intoxicating, sweet-peppery scent of these blossoms. But an internet search divulges a tiny band

of believers who share my ecstatic reaction: “Wonderful.” “Amazing.” “Sooooooo good.” “The best-smelling flower in the world.” 13. WANDERING AIMLESSLY: Almost equal to the glee that arises

whenever I set foot in a new place is the tingle I feel wheeling my bike out of the garage with no clear idea of where I’m headed. Letting instincts chart my course results sometimes in a

grand adventure and other times merely an interesting jaunt — but I rarely regret not plotting a route in advance.