I’ve seen the trailers for The Bucket List and I have no desire to see the movie. Love Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, two of the very best actors.

It seems to me they did this one for the money. There were probably others, but this one just seems so contrived.

I’m not going to review a movie I haven’t seen. So let’s just take the concept of “the bucket list.”

First, I hope this doesn’t make it into the hullabaloo surrounding Boomers. A spate of “what’s on your bucket list?” questions from the gossip TV and rags. But I’m predicting it will.

Second, the idea that any person reaches a point in their life and still can come up with a list of things they always wanted to do, is ridiculous.

If I want to do something bad enough, I will do it. OR I will decide that this will always be an unfulfilled dream and move on. To hold on to something one’s whole life and then on your deathbed decide it must be done is ludicrous.

Unlike travel for mere Transportation Security Administration-screened mortals, this pair goes everywhere on Nicholson’s private jet — which would carry a price tag of at least $54,000 each for the journey they took.

So, how much would it cost to do the “Bucket List” itinerary in style? Not counting the cost of a tattoo (we’re not going there), it’s about $105,730 for two — and that’s if you stay in each place longer than a Hollywood scene change.

Alas, we are in for a deluge of Bucket List questions.

Here’s my (ha!) Bucket List:

• Piss on the ankle of a dead Bin Laden – any of them – doesn’t have to be Osama.
• See the POTUS fall of a horse and be paralyzed from the mouth down.
• Be invited to the Googleplex campus as a guest speaker (or employee, hi Sergey and Brin.)
• Hang with K-Fed and the kids and play Chutes and Ladders and drink Kool-aid.
• Spend a day in Sugar Tit, Kentucky.