...and that gets under some people's skins.

Guess I’m not surprised that some folks don’t like me because I’m different. I’m a romantic idealist, a free-thinker, a liberal and a lover. And I’m a happy fella, to boot. That’s a rare combination these days. I tend to alienate the non-romantics. They call me a Pollyanna. Also, the fundamentalist Christians call me a heathen and say I’m headed for hell. The political conservatives consider me un-American. And depressed people say I’m too happy for my own good. Makes for a difficult time because I’m the polar opposite of so many, many people. Especially here in America. I’m a square peg in a round-hole. A misfit. But I’m proud of it. Proud to be me. I grew up thinking that I would always be welcome in America. And I am, to some extent. Especially if I keep my big mouth shut. But see, I’m a writer. And I’m outspoken. By nature. I hardly ever hesitate to speak my mind. For instance, I don’t like whiners. And I let ‘em know. I ask people, “Why are you whining?” And invariably, I tell them to get over it. That’s been a primary message in this blog. I keep telling folks who lament the suicide of a family member or close friend to get over it. After all, I did. I set the example. My father took his own life when I was 13, almost 60 years ago. When I proclaim that I’m over it and that dad is my hero despite the deed, that annoys some folks. They tell me that’s not the right and proper attitude. And my dear sweet Jeanne had Alzheimer’s, and after 13 years of living and coping with it the best we could, Jeanne died. That was devastating for me. But I got over it, and I started communing with Jeanne’s spirit. Yes, I can’t stand to be sad for long. I find it necessary to be in love all the time – with life. And so I exude good vibes and I’m upbeat and a positive thinker. I’m so very happy...and that gets under some people’s skins. –Jim Broede