My 2008 "1,000 Places to See Before You Die" calendar has been sitting on my desk for two weeks, waiting to be hung. The photos are huge and luscious and, in the dead of winter, who wouldn't want to gaze upon an Amalfi Coast sunset or fantasize about shooting the rapids in Banff National Park?

Well, me. I know I'm supposed to feel inspired by this growing family of products promoting the world's wonders. But I just feel tired. Anybody out there want to join my club, where our highest aspiration before we die is to max out our 401(k)'s?

There was a time when I actually enjoyed this gimmick. Just a few years ago, I could buy books and calendars with titles such as "50 Places to See Before You Die." Fifty places! Quite a stretch considering my current years on the planet, but even choosing 10 among them would seem a victory. Then things got nutty. Fifty places became 100. One hundred places to see -- and things to do -- grew to 365, which leaped to 1,000 and then ... 1,001. (What, I wonder, was the one they added? Someplace easy to overlook, like China?)

Now even the last bastion of escapism -- the movies -- is getting into the act. Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman's characters in "The Bucket List" are dying. So, they're doing what any of us would do in that situation: leaping out of prop planes, racing vintage cars and dropping in at the Taj Mahal. Check. Check. Check.

I know. I'm being too literal. No one really expects us to become uber-adventurers, especially we Americans with our drooping dollar and comparatively paltry number of vacation days.

But we're human, after all, and it's hard to look at such enticements without feeling a bit like a loser for never having cruised the Ayeyarwady (it's in Myanmar -- I looked it up).

The bigger problem (aside from shelling out 20 bucks to be reminded that I'll be 6 feet under before I know it) is that I've seen what happens to people who try too hard to check Great Experiences off a list. They get cranky, even in spectacular places. I once saw a couple step off a train in glorious, on-everyone's-list Paris. He was several steps behind her, pulling their overpacked luggage. "Yes," he said, rolling his eyes, "that's because you are always right."

Yikes. Too much pressure, if you ask me, to have the times of their lives. I just hope they only bought the "50 Places" book.

So, let's leave them to their lists. We'll make our own. Let's call ours "1,000 Moments of Serendipity." No, let's be daring: 1,001!

Because the best moments are almost always the least expected or planned, aren't they? Snow days. A lifelong friendship made on a city bus. A meteor sighting on your first date. A teacher's observation that turns our lives in a fortuitous direction. Raindrops dancing on a tent. Winning the door prize. A teenager admitting that you, Mom, were right. OK, I'm still waiting for that one, but I am certain it would make my list.

I don't mean we shouldn't dream. I just think we should keep our bucket list small. Throw in one or two places we hunger to experience and, then, for goodness' sake, make it happen.

Then, let's keep our senses open to the potential thousands of unanticipated joys and thrills that can come our way if we're paying attention. Right here, where we live.

If we're racing cars, we might be moving too fast to notice.

Gail Rosenblum • 612-673-7350