Being Tardy minded

As originally posted in the Hattiesburg American 5/2/2011

Let me begin by saying, I m not a hoarder. However, within arm’s reach on my small desk are enough items that would make me a millionaire if Monty Hall were to offer me $100 for something as obscure as an alcohol prep pad, a used tube of lip balm or a book of matches. No, I am not a hoarder. I prefer instead to think of myself as a collector.

Truth be told, I am just a disorganized wreck. I know that my disorganization is not intentional. I have just reached that time in my life where the memory banks are full. I can remember the colors of the umbrella on the street in the background during the assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan but I cannot remember where I put my keys. It seems that my internal computer is dumping the wrong memories.
At home my wife will get a phone call from someone thanking her for what we did for them only to listen in wonder because I have failed to tell her what exactly we did. It’s not that I am telling her a lie – not even a lie of omission. It’s that I simply forget to tell her the important things - but I don’t hesitate to tell her about every stroke on the golf course.

Don’t call me absent-minded (which really presupposes that there was a mind to begin with). No, I am tardy-minded. My memory comes flooding back, just as I get comfortable on the couch. That is when I remember that I left the drink I made for myself on the kitchen counter.

One evening my wife and I were having a discussion on the merits of remembering to tell her things. Of course, I have probably forgotten half of what was discussed that evening, but I think it had something to do with the Cubs game that was on TV. A simple look at my truck will help you understand. When I clean out my truck I try to take everything non-essential out, in less than a week I find my door pockets filled with everything from hand-sanitizer to sidewalk chalk.

There are obviously two sides to every story. As you read this you are either agreeing with me, or you are looking for the scissors so you can cut it out and hand it to someone you know. So, for those of you who stand on common ground with me; let’s pledge to do our best at concentrating on one item at a time. For those of you that think I’m lazy and disorganized; please love me for my wonderful creativity and my ability to at least START many wonderful projects. And, for my loving wife, in case I have forgotten to tell you, I mentioned you again in an article. Hope you like it.