Last week, I spoke about legal compliance issues at a national auto dealer conference in Las Vegas. Yes, that’s right. Used car salesmen and lawyers in Vegas.
It had all the makings of a very good joke or a very bad “Hangover” sequel.
I’d never been to Las Vegas, though I watched “Bugsy,” “Rainman” and “Ocean’s Eleven” several times to get an idea of what it might be like. I was all prepared to become svelte, suave, sharp-dressed and tanned, and really good at counting cards if I met up with Tom Cruise.
I was a little apprehensive when I got off the plane. Clearly, these people had never watched “Bugsy,” “Rainman” or “Ocean’s Eleven.” Apparently, they only had Jerry Springer and “Leaving Las Vegas” in their repertoire.
The temperature was 3 degrees cooler than a solar flare.
Between the beads of sweat coming down my brow, all I could see was a populous of scantily-clad folks with tattoos, enormous fake breasts and unnaturally-colored hair bobbing around me as I made my way from the airport down the Las Vegas Strip to my hotel.
As you know, I’m a little bit country, and clearly Vegas is a whole lot of rock-and-roll. The Strip was a forest of hotels and statuary reaching for the heavens. Bright lights swarmed like lighting bugs on controlled substances. Everything is Bigger, Better and More — a far cry from my path of downsizing and living small.
“Where you headed?” said the driver.
Back home, I thought, as I heard myself answer, “Caesar’s Palace, please.”
“Boy, you aren’t from around here, are you?” he replied.
Wonder what tipped him off? Was it the accent? The fact that I was fully attired? My lack of body art and after-market parts?
As I watched the city scroll by the windows of the car, I smiled. Even though I was most definitely out of my element, a fact which was also readily apparent to mere passersby, I was both pleased and anxious to be doing something new.
When was the last time you did something for the first time?
When we were kids, we did something new twice a day and three times on Saturday. We were thrilled by the adventure of doing anything new – and so much was new! – that it didn’t matter if we looked silly or weren’t good at it. We weren’t supposed to be good at it. We’d never done it before!
Then somewhere along the way, somewhere between being Opie and becoming Andy, it seems most of us start settling into routines and following the herd.
We’re content, we tell ourselves, in our plush comfort zone of conformity where there are fewer opportunities to fail and make mistakes. Here, on Life’s Great Sofa, we know what to expect.
Nope, I thought to myself, I’m going to make this trip count, so I decided to find the things about Las Vegas that I could cherish during my short time there. What were things that were “me” but could stretch me into a new territory? I decided to pull out the list.
Some call these “bucket lists” – the list of things you wish to do before you kick the proverbial bucket. Others call them “wish lists” or “life lists” or “things I’d do if my wife would let me lists.” Some lists are typed on beautiful paper to show the significance the author gives its contents, while others are scrawled out on the back of the electric bill.
And some lists sit in a drawer and are as pristine as the day they were written, having never had a thing crossed off of them.
My list is handwritten on a piece of scrap paper and many things have been scratched off it.
As things are marked off, other things are added. My List is never done until I am.
I scan the remaining items that were left to do, and in 24 hours, I marked off:
• Fly in a helicopter.
• Ride in a limousine.
• Go to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.
• See a show in Las Vegas.
I ate lunch and sipped champagne by the Colorado River with lovely people. I soared over Lake Mead and the Hoover Dam; wiggled in my seat to the wonderful Jersey Boys production; and was carried back to my room in a stretch limo.
When is the last time you marked off something from your list? Big or small, what are you waiting for? If not now … when?
Bentonville never looked so good as I happily landed, all svelte, suave, sharp-dressed and tanned, back in my simple little life.
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LISA KELLEY IS A WRITER, MASTER GARDENER, ANIMAL LOVER AND ALL-AROUND GOOD OL’ SOUTHERN GAL WHO ALSO HAPPENS TO PRACTICE LAW AND MEDIATE CASES IN DOWNTOWN BENTONVILLE.