Vegas is ADD Paradise

I just got back from a quick weekend jaunt to Vegas.  I took my wife as sort of a valentines gift. My job was to win money and her job was to spend money.  She was a lot better at her job than I was at mine.

Though I’m not much for shopping or gambling, I still dig Vegas - it’s ADD paradise.

Check out what we were able to see, 

all within 100 yards of our hotel! 

Dead Celebrities, pictured with my lovely wife, Denise, and Austin Powers

 Honesty and integrity are important in any business. I liked this guy so I became a customer.

Not just anybody can make two-tone shoes, a white polyester suite with a blue silk shirt, and a comb-over, look cool and classy in an old school mafia kind of way. 

 

 A giant shiny horse. You know how ADD people are about shiny things.

Fake, wonderful, wonder of the world.

Oh, and trucks that deliver Hot Babes direct to you?  I wonder how many girls they carry in one of those trucks…..hmmmmm.  I bet they wouldn’t be so hot if they cut some air vents in the truck.

Please Don't Kill Me

I have always been a little off, a little twisted. My momma says I was a handful growing up. If somebody says you’re a “handful”, it’s just a polite, Southern way of saying you are a pain in the butt.

I debated whether it is O.K. to say “butt” because I’m not sure if it is a cuss word or not. But then I remembered what the King James Bible calls a donkey, and I figured it was all right.    

My momma is a very intelligent woman; she has her Master’s Degree in early childhood education. While I was growing up, she tried everything she knew to get me under control, but I was still a handful. Eventually she decided to have me  evaluated. She arranged for some “professionals” with legal pads to visit my school and observe me throughout the day.

These experts told Momma that I had Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder – ADHD, which is just a big, fancy, clinical way of saying I was a “handful”. Momma already knew that, but I guess we had good insurance and  she wanted to have it confirmed.

I still remember the first time Momma ever talked to me about ADHD; she was so kind and loving. She sat me down, took my little hands in hers and looked into my eyes. Then she pinched my cheeks real hard so I’d look into her eyes. 

“Honey, you have a condition known as Attention Deficit….Look at me….Attention Deficit Hyper…LOOK AT ME!… Hyperactivity Dis…. Just take this little pill RIGHT NOW!”

“What’s it do?” I asked.

She knew I was too young to understand the chemistry behind it so she said, “It will help you to grow up to be big and strong and live a long life!”

Frightened, I asked, “Will I die if I don’t take it?”

She said, “No, honey, no. You won’t die... But somebody might kill you.”

After all these years, I am taking myself off my ADD meds. Midlife is the time you give your self permission to be yourself. I’m not sure that I am myself when I’m on the meds.

As I transition back to my natural ADD glory, I’m not sure what I’ll say or what I’ll do, but it will be me who says is and does it. Just please know that it is never, ever, ever my intent to offend anyone – except maybe the Amish – but that’s only because I know they don’t read my blog.

Midlife and Resolutions

So it’s the time of year when bloggers everywhere begin making suggestions for resolutions guaranteed to make my life better in the new year. Here are the top recurring themes I’m seeing in the blogs.

1.  diet and exercise
2.  quit drinking and smoking
3.  spend more time with family
4.  get out of debt
5.  get organized

Screw all of that. I’m in the middle of my midlife crisis.  I don’t wanna diet. I don’t wanna exercise. I don’t wanna quit drinking - especially if I have to spend more time with family. I’d have to start smoking in order to quit smoking. I would feel totally un-American if I were out of debt. And dang it, I have A.D.D. so getting organized is a medical impossibility.

The ultimate purpose of resolutions is to make your life better, right? BUT, statistics show that most resolutions are broken sometimes between Superbowl Sunday and Fat Tuesday. A broken resolution is tantamount to personal failure.

Personal failure leads to low-self-esteem WHICH erodes productivity and diminishes the quality of life, THUS having the EXACT OPPOSITE effect of what what the resolutions were intended to do in the first place. All of that to say… I ain’t gonna make no resolutions this year.*


*Note to my northern friends who got their thongs in a thistle over my use of the words “ain’t” and “no” in the same sentence constituting a “double negative"... blah... blah... blah.  Please be advised that I type in fluent Southern where the first negative adds emphasis to the second negative rather than negating it.