The Theme at Paris

Getting older is rough. Your body starts to let you down in slow, gradual ways that you may not even notice immediately. Then again, you can also just slip into bad habits that you may not realize until someone points it out to you. I have apparently slipped into a bad habit without realizing it. Over the last 2 weeks, it has been pointed out to me more than once that I am not only talking extremely fast, but I have started mumbling a lot as well. It does explain the fact that I have had to repeat myself a lot the last 2 weeks.

I was already well aware of the fact that I talk to myself out loud. It appears as though I continue to do it with other people around as well. Nice. I suppose as long as I am in fact, talking to myself and not to people that aren’t really there or answering the voices in my head, I’m OK, right? RIGHT??? So in addition to people not being able to understand me, which is weird enough, I have also been guilty of not hearing things correctly. My Dad should get a real kick out of that. In fact, Dad, this story is for you.

ThreeL and I were standing outside Treasure Island at the valet waiting for my car. So, while we were waiting there, she turns to me and asks me what I hear as “What is the theme at Paris?” I didn’t answer her immediately, and I know I gave her a look as if to say “Are you serious?” Eventually, I said it was French while still continuing to look at her strangely. She said, “Oh, well it wasn’t obvious from the name.” Now I was really puzzled. I said, “It isn’t? How much more French can you get?” At this point we are both looking at each other as if the other has lost her mind. Finally, she says, “I said, what is the theme at HARRAH’S?” Ahhh. At that point, conversation becomes impossible as we are all but rolling on the ground with laughter.

We had one other incident like that involving “drive thrus” and “dry foods”, but I can’t remember the details. Oh great. Now my memory is starting to go too.