I’ve somehow managed to avoid the pitfalls of addiction and abuse.  The liver remains functional and the mind weathers emotional tornadoes and psychic tsunamis.  Flirting with disaster on a regular basis has not yet led to my demise.  I’ve waltzed with the devil and danced on the outer perimeter of human awareness with a coy smirk on my face.

It’s not to say that I didn’t come close.  As a youth, I used to love Flintstone’s Chewable vitamins.  They tasted good and they had the shape of Flintstones characters.  It was pretty common for me to sneak out and pop 10 or 12 a day.  They helped me keep my sanity as an awkward, wayward youth.  The sugar and Vitamin C rush was all I needed to get through the day.  And yet I somehow managed to survive it all.  I moved on to booze and other drugs but I was always chasing the dragon trying to recapture the thrill of those Flintstone’s chewable vitamins.


Flintstone’s Chewables

all the rage in days of youth

pop ‘em like candy


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