Sad facts of life in the USA.

I'm well aware that we need to cut our nation's budget deficit. But there's something even more important. And that's to create more jobs. For the unemployed. To put people back to work. That, more than anything, will revive the economy. So even if we have to go deeper into debt, let's get a public works program going. Because the private sector isn't generating enough jobs. I'm not talking about jobs just to make work. But for improving our fast-deteriorating infrastructure. Really, there's no valid excuse to leave so many people jobless. It's immoral. Mean-spirited Republicans in congress have opposed extension of unemployment insurance. But the same members won't hesitate to give tax cuts to the very rich. It ain't fair. But hey, those are the sad facts of life in the USA. --Jim Broede

My worst nightmare.

Crap. Crap. Crap. That's the problem with the world. There's so much crap (erroneous information) thrown at us, that some of it sticks. Tell lies often enough and people begin to believe much of it. Just look at what our politicians keep telling us. About why the economy is bad. And who's at fault. Always the other political party. Yes, crap, crap, crap and more crap. We are inundated in crap. It's on the ground. We wade in. And the crap acts like quicksand. Sucking us beneath. We're smothered in crap. Buried in crap. I used to think that we citizens of the world were well-informed. Access to so much information. From all kinds of sources. But we've lost track of how to separate the crap from real fact. Nobody knows any more. The crap comes packaged as fact. And so that's all we look at. The package. And we think it's fact. We allow ourselves to be duped. Used to be that we could identify crap by the smell. The odor. The stench. But the crap is so permeating that it makes everything stink. Oh, I find a safe haven. I go underground. Into the subterranean. By myself. Or maybe one other. Sometimes, I call it a cocoon. But eventually, I have a need to go out. To run errands. To buy food. For the purpose of survival. I waste little time returning to my cocoon. My hideway. I've built it to be crap-proof. But lord knows, maybe it'll spring a leak. And the crap will ooze in. That's my worst nightmare. Crap. Crap. Everywhere. And no place to escape it. --Jim Broede

Gawd. I loved writing about it.

I was a sportswriter long enough to cover particular amateur teams for entire seasons. Yes, from beginning to end. And that convinced me that winning seasons are shaped just as much by the mind as by raw physical talent. The most talented team often doesn't win. Because it lacked something on the mental level. An attitude. Confidence. You've gotta believe you can win before you actually win. I loved to watch and write about teams that gained confidence during a season and worked together. That had camaraderie. And truly believed they could go all the way. That was fascinating. And I wrote about it. And I think some teams believed their press clippings. As a sportswriter, I think I was part of the confidence-building team. I'd dramatize what was going on. The unfolding of a good story. I'd emphasize the importance of a particular game. Very much like a coach. Or I'd portray a particular player as a hero. It works on the high school and college level, and on the amateur level in general. Sports competition often becomes a separate world. A story in itself. Unfolding. Chapter by chapter. Building. To a crescendo. To a conclusion. To success. Or near success. And sometimes, failure. And the fans become involved. Emotionally. They wish for the perfect storybook ending. Reason to celebrate. To feel joy. Over a team's achievement. Gawd. I loved writing about it. --Jim Broede

The ideal spiritual orgasm.

The Czech writer Milan Kundera writes that there is a secret bond between slowness and memory, between speed and forgetting. He says consider this utterly commonplace situation: a man is walking down the street. At a certain moment, he tries to recall something, but the recollection escapes him. Automatically, he slows down. Meanwhile, a person who wants to forget a disagreeable incident he has just lived through starts unconsciously to speed up his pace, as if he were trying to distance himself from a thing still too close to him in time. In existential mathematics, Kundera contends, that experience takes the form of two basic equations: the degree of slowness is directly proportional to the intensity of memory; the degree of speed is directly proportional to the intensity of forgetting.

I readily buy into this. I most want time to slow, to even stop time, so that I can capture a loving moment. But if something happens that I don't like, I want to get it off my mind. As soon/fast as possible. Maybe that's why I'm moreorless immune to depression. I'd rather spend my time in a positive frame of mind. I want to dwell on it. Savor it. Keep it. I want to capture the perfect moment. Embrace it. Hold it forever. That would be the ideal spiritual orgasm. --Jim Broede

We are wandering in a daze.

I'm misunderstood. But that's all right. Few of us are really understood. The nature of life is to be misunderstood. That shouldn't be surprising. Because most of us don't even understand ourselves. So how could we possibly understand others? When it gets down to the nitty-gritty, life turns out to be one big misunderstanding. That's why we don't get along. Why we have so much strife in the world. We don't have a clue as to what it's all about. Just tune in any TV program or listen to the radio. Or read a newspaper or magazine. So much nonsense. And misunderstanding. We are fed a daily diet of bullshit. Little wonder that we are wandering in a daze. With virtually no understanding of what we are all about. --Jim Broede

Fortunately, not too late.

I used to have daily deadlines. That was my life as a writer for newspapers. Deadlines. An allotted time. To get things done. In some ways, that's good training. But it's not the best way to live. I prefer a life without deadlines. To be able to proceed at my own pace. Writing comes much easier that way. Life, too. I see so many people in a hurry. Maybe it's a case of taking on too many responsibilities. Too many obligations. I started slowing down after I retired. And I discovered a new way of life. I should have been living this way right from the beginning. At a leisurely pace. No rush. Seems to me that many of us are in a rat race. We're trying to do too much. Too fast. I wasn't born to race. But I didn't know that until later in life. Fortunately, not too late. --Jim Broede

I like to forget about time.

My planned flight to Europe this summer will have me stopping over in Iceland. So we've decided to stay in Iceland for a while. Maybe even a week or 10 days. And then flying to Norway. Or maybe even taking a ferry. We are leaning toward the latter. Ultimately, we'll end up in Europe. And I'm not gonna book my return flight to the USA ahead of time. Because I may want to linger on and on and on. Certainly more than a month. When I'm away, and I'm in love, I like to forget about time. --Jim Broede

I've outlasted (outlived) my dad.

I look forward to each and every day. But I can imagine what it'd be like not to. Guess that would be a definition of depression. When everything seems bleak. And sad. And that maybe it's not even worth living anymore. I'd hate to feel that way. It would be scary. My dad must have felt that way. When he committed suicide 60-some years ago. It'd be hard for me to follow in dad's footsteps. Maybe only if I were dreadfully ill. And in severe pain. I assume my dad was in mental anguish. Mental pain. Interesting, isn't it? That I've taken a different mental tack. I consider myself upbeat. Even in difficult times. I don't want to feel bad. Or depressed. I always find something to make me happy. To get wrapped up in life. To savor moments on an almost daily basis. Maybe I'll fail some day. And everything will go awry. But hey, so far I've made it almost twice as long as my dad. --Jim Broede

My life was not wasted.

To me, there is nothing better than a good human relationship. That is the essence of love. A very close and trusting and intimate relationship. Life doesn't get any better than that. Oh, one can get comfort and happiness from other things. Even from material things. But the ultimate is a good human relationship. A connection. Two souls intermingled. When that happens, I am at my peak. On top of the mountain. Atop the world. Then I feel I have lived. To the utmost. My life was not wasted. --Jim Broede

Trying to make the best of reality.

Conservative politicians and pundits are foaming at the mouth. So concerned that Elena Kagan will be an 'activist' justice if appointed to the U.S. Supreme Court. So what? There already are conservative activists on the court. Why not a liberal activist? Sometimes, it's necessary to fight fire with fire. Liberals find it effective to counter with some of the same tactics used routinely by conservatives. That's the nature of politics, isn't it? Sure, the Supreme Court should be above politics. But it ain't. We have a civil war being waged in America. Between the Democrats and Republicans. Between the liberals and the conservatives. It's not a good thing. But that's the way it is. I don't have to like reality. But I have to accept it. And try to make the best of it. --Jim Broede

Learning from errors of our ways.

The framers of the U.S. Constitution weren't overly wise men. They were living in the 18th century. And therefore, they had relatively little grasp of what life and social and political and economic conditions would be like in the 21st century. So if we could resurrect the framers, and bring them back to life today, they'd tell us to reinterpret what they meant hundreds of years ago. They'd say modernize. Get yourselves out of 18th century thinking. Because it's archaic in so very many ways. Oh, there are some good principles to stick by. Through eternity. But hey, don't saddle yourselves with living with our most stupid and limiting ideas. Learn from our mistakes. And believe us, we made many of 'em. For modern-day conservatives to idolize we framers of the constitution would be foolhardy. One has to learn to adjust to changing times. We, for instance, based our economy in large part on slave labor. And we denied women so very many inalienable rights. We acted like male chauvinist idiots. We were hypocrites. We proclaimed all men being equal. That was rubbish. We never practiced the same equality that we preached. Now for you conservatives to revere us -- well, that's ridiculous. You'd be continuing to live with the same mistakes we made. Heck, learn from us. Learn from the many errors of our ways. --Jim Broede

Let's make Big Oil very small oil.

The Republicans seem to want big oil. But not big government. When the real threat is big oil. Big oil doing as it pleases. Taking uncanny risks. That ultimately lead to environmental disasters. Like in the Gulf of Mexico. Big oil has pretty much gotten its way in the USA. Especially during Republican administrations. Big oil has gone mostly unregulated. Doing as it pleases. Big Oil was even called in by Dick Cheney during the Bush administration. To write its own rules. Little wonder that British Petroleum has reaped about $58 billion in profits in recent years. It's time that government started reaping profits. So that government can pay dividends to taxpayers. Just like the dividends BP dishes out to its shareholders. Yes, I like the sound of it. The emerging of BIG government. BIG enough to make Big Oil look like very small oil. --Jim Broede

We cry, let the next guy to it.

We need shared sacrifice. And we don't have that anymore in America. That's the only way we'll ever solve our nation's many problems. We all have to pitch in. With a mammoth effort. Including significantly higher taxes. On everyone. But mostly on the rich. We have to give money and effort according to our means. Voluntarily. Gauge the mood in America. It ain't good. The economy stinks. We have record high levels of unemployment. And when it comes to solutions, we tend to bicker. Our politicians fight with each other. Rather than work together. We all have to pitch in. Instead, we keep saying, let the next guy do it. --Jim Broede

In America, it's survival of fittest.

I was brought up to be competitive. To try to be better than the next guy or gal. To excel. By comparing myself to others. Yes, I was brought up in the American way. But I don't necessarily buy into it today. I know better. I don't particularly like the American way. It's all right for some people. But not for me. Because competition often means to cheat. To win at all costs. That's not very nice. Might even be immoral. And it's just not the way to live, in my humble opinion. I've been turned off by American style capitalism. And by American politics. Because it's downright nasty. Permeated by a win at all cost philosophy. Too often, fairness doesn't matter. The individual good is put ahead of the common good. It's considered a personal weakness for someone to emphasize the common good. It's unAmerican. Because then one doesn't believe in survival of the fittest. Even if it means society as a whole fails. --Jim Broede

A case of 'Now I can slack off.'

We sports fans care if our team loses. Because we are tied to a team emotionally. Over the years. Often since we were youngsters. But I doubt that players really care that much. They make a living by playing a game. And it's nice to win. But winning isn't everything. Far from it. Some players, I'm sure, get pleasure from playing the game. But in major league sports, it's the pay that counts. It's neat making millions of dollars in a single season. That easily offsets the losing. Taking home all that money. That's the motivation for playing a sport, and becoming one of the elite professionals. Money. And maybe fame, too. Becoming a celebrity. Sometimes, I imagine that the players care. That they really want to excel and win championships just for the sake of it all. But I'm fooling myself. Maybe it happens in amateur sports. But rarely at the professional level. Money. Lots of it. Tends to be a spoiling factor. Many players with extended big guaranteed contracts seem to lose it. Maybe it's the pressure of really wanting to have truly earned all that money. But I suspect it's more a case of, 'Hey, I've hit the big pay day. Now I can slack off. I'm home free. I've got more money than I need for the rest of my lifetime.' --Jim Broede

When I travel, I like to fit in.

I've never been to Poland before. But now it looks like my summer trip to Eastern Europe will start in Gdansk. In late July. My guess is I'll fit in. Nobody will suspect I'm an American. Until I open my big mouth. In physical appearance, I have a Slavic look. I could pass for Polish, Czech, Hungarian or Russian. Funny thing. Doesn't bother me if I don't quite fit in where I live. But when I travel, I like to fit in. To really get a feel for the place and the people. --Jim Broede

No reason to get to tomorrow.

Maybe I've captured the essence of Czech writer Milan Kundera's novel 'Slowness.' In the first paragraph.

"We suddenly had the urge to spend the evening and night in a chateau. Many of them in France have become hotels: a square of greenery; a little plot of walks, trees, birds in the midst of a vast network of highways. I am driving, and in the rearview mirror I notice a car behind me. The small left light is blinking, and the whole car emits waves of impatience. The driver is watching for the moment the way a hawk watches for a sparrow."

I'm assuming that Kundera's telling me, yes, we tend to be in a hurry, don't we? Often, that's the nature of life. Let's get somewhere. Fast. We don't fully appreciate slowness. Taking our time. We are trying to rush into the future. Instead of savoring the present moment. Making it last. In a sense, many of us never arrive at our destination. We don't know where it is. But I'm here today. And if today lasts forever, that's all right with me. Because I'm happy in the moment. No reason to hurry. No reason to get to tomorrow. --Jim Broede

But at least I'm moving.

Sore foot. No problem. I purchased a used 21-speed bicycle today for $90. And I'm traveling at a speed of about a mile every 5 minutes. But I hope I'm back on my two feet in a few days. Walking briskly again. I would have gone to a new level of crazy if I didn't find a new way to achieve my aerobic exercise. I can't stand to sit still. I need my exercise. I'm addicted. I still haven't adjusted to all those gears. I pretty much stay in a single gear. And just pump away. I suppose I'll be sore in the morning. Because I'm moving muscles in different ways. But at least I'm moving. --Jim Broede

Foreigners are nice people.

I hardly ever meet a foreigner I don't like. Doesn't matter where I travel. Italy. Germany. France. Great Britain. Canada. Mexico. They're all great people. Maybe that's why I have no trouble accepting immigrants. Even illegal immigrants. They're the kind of people I like. I'd welcome them into my neighborhood. I'd make friends with 'em. So from my perspective, I don't see why there's so much fuss about foreigners living here illegally. They're still nice people. --Jim Broede

I'm gonna stand by my principles.

Seems to me we have a society that keeps becoming more and more emboldened. And that's because there are so many opportunities to spout off anonymously. On the Internet, for instance. People don't use their real names anymore. So naturally, they aren't afraid to make asses of themselves. If they used their real names, they'd be more cautious. They wouldn't play so lose with the facts. As for me, I'm not afraid to use my name. Because I have the courage of my convictions. And if I'm gonna call somebody out, they have a right to know who I am. I'm accessible. That's been my nature throughout life. People tell me that we live in a dangerous society. And that's all the more reason to hide our identity or our whereabouts. But I believe in good communication. In accessibility. In dialogue. In honest personal relationships. That's the way I was raised. And educated. By golly, I'm gonna stand by those principles. --Jim Broede

I'm looking for a credible meaning.

Over the years, I've had a recurring dream. Not often. Maybe once every several years. I'm bicycling a long distance. In the middle of nowhere. But I don't remember where I'm going. And I'm concerned that the tires are under-inflated. Maybe going flat. And that worries me. Because I want to get to my destination before dark. I wonder about a meaning to such a recurring dream. But I haven't found a credible one yet. I wonder if I ever will. --Jim Broede

The baseball gods ain't Cubs fans.

Ah, a guy can dream. But in 1935, it was more than a dream. I was born. And the Chicago Cubs won 21 straight games. The longest winning streak in major league baseball. The 1916 New York Giants went 26 games without a defeat. But after the 14th win, there was a tie game. So technically speaking, the Cubs own the longest winning streak. And I want the Cubs to break that record this season. They won today, and I want that to be the start of a 22-game winning streak. It could turn the entire season around. And make the Cubs a bona fide contender for post season play and the World Series. If the baseball gods had any sense of decency, they'd grant my wish. But I suspect they ain't Cubs fans. --Jim Broede

Maybe I'll crawl a mile.

Maybe it's more than taking life one day at a time. But rather taking life as it comes. Always finding a way to cope. No matter what. Like now. I have a sore foot. Means I have to hobble around. The best I can. Sure, I'd like to walk my usual 6 to 10 miles per day. Can't do it now. Wish I could. But wishing isn't enough. I have to adjust. And still be reasonably happy. Thankful that I'm still an alive and conscious being. And I'm gonna go outdoors. Into the yard. And do some gardening. On my hands and knees. And if I can't walk a mile, maybe I'll crawl a mile. --Jim Broede

Always looking for an adventure.

I'd like to live in different places. For maybe a year or so. Just to get the feel of places I've never been to. All over the world. But I'm also thinking of moving back to the small town where I grew up. In southeast Wisconsin. I've rarely been back since I left as a teen-ager, to go away to college. I'd like to get a feel for the town. As it is now. By living there for a year. Walking about town. To see how it's changed. And how it's remained the same. And then write about it. I occasionally wonder what life would have been like if I never ever left the town. Stayed moreorless in one place. Like many people do. I have no regrets. But I'm a curious guy. Always looking for an adventure. --Jim Broede

I'm the exception.

People aren't as trusting as they used to be. When I was a youngster growing up, I sensed the world was much more trusting. We weren't afraid of strangers. I'm still not afraid of 'em. But I sense other people are fearful. Cautious. Not so trusting any more. People are at odds with each other. Take politics, for instance. Democrats and Republicans used to socialize with each other. Not any more. I grew up with the notion that I never had to hide my identity. I could be open and above board. With everyone. Now we're secretive. We don't use our real names on the Internet. I'm the exception. Because I do. I'm cautioned that it isn't wise. That the world is no longer a safe place. --Jim Broede

Politics: Everything that's bad.

When I was educated, I was taught to be objective. When I went to work for newspapers, that was the way I was supposed to write. Objectively. Fairly. And then I started covering politics. And I discovered that politicians were the most unobjective people I'd ever met. They were very partisan. Very subjective. Anything but objective. That always seemed rather strange to me. Seems to me that government should be run objectively. And fairly. But it ain't. Not by a longshot. Government is run so poorly. With an alarming lack of objectivity. Politics. With no sense of fairness. No sense of the common good. It's corrupt. It's gawd-awful. It's shameful. Everything that's bad. It's all wrapped up in our political systems. --Jim Broede

The sad reality.

New York Times columnist Bob Herbert got it right. "We're bulldozing Detroit while at the same time trying to establish model metropolises in Kabul and Kandahar," he said. "We’re spending endless billions on this wretched war but can’t extend the unemployment benefits of Americans suffering from the wretched economy here at home." That sums up the sad reality, doesn't it? And we Americans sit idly by and let it happen. Disgraceful. --Jim Broede

Why? Why? Why?

In a sense, what I'm writing here is a newspaper column. Called Broede's Broodings. It's pretty much what I'd write if I had a daily newspaper column. Reflections. About almost anything. Much of it would be personal. Actually, back in the 1960s I did write a newspaper column called Broede's Broodings. For a weekly newspaper. It was sort of experimental. Offbeat. But it had good readership in the local community. Even today I get an occasional comment about something I wrote 40-some years ago. Because what I wrote affected people. Maybe only one other. Or just a handful. But that's what I wanted. Occasionally, I was invited in to an elementary school class to talk about journalism. And once again, I'd do something. That maybe was memorable. Different. That caught attention. So that when the kid became an adult, he and some of his classmates still remembered it. And maybe even the lesson to be learned. Like I brought an egg into the classroom and then I picked out a kid and smashed the egg on top of his head. Why did I do that? That's the question I asked everyone. Why? That's one of the first questions a good journalist asks. Why? Why? Why? --Jim Broede

Making people less of a stranger.

I've noticed one thing about a blog. Almost all of the interaction is with strangers. Complete strangers. And people who stay anonymous. So we proceed with limited information. About each other. But generally, the reader of my blog knows far more about me than I know about them. I don't know if that's good or bad or indifferent. Just a fact. For instance, I use my real name. And I talk about myself. And sometimes things going on in my life. I don't mind that. I tend to be open. Because I made my living most of my life as a writer. For newspapers. With bylined stories. That made me visible. And I had to deal with strangers. Daily. I'm not very secretive. Maybe because I've always encouraged people I deal with to open up. Politicians. People in the news. People of general interest. For one reason or another. Yes, I was in the information business. Keeping people informed. Keeping myself informed, too. I think I chose the right profession. Because I have an innate curiosity. I like to know what's going on. Especially behind the scenes. And why people do what they do. Yes, I like to cultivate strangers. Learn what they are all about. So they become less of a stranger. --Jim Broede

One must learn to adapt.

I have plantar fasciitis. Sounds pretty serious, doesn't it? Mostly, though, it's painful. It's an irritation and swelling of the thick tissue on the bottom of my right foot. That's serious for me. Because I generally feel compelled to walk 6 to 10 miles. Daily. I'm told that's what may have caused plantar fasciitis. I'm not supposed to walk so much. At least for a while. In some respects, I have no choice. Albeit, I went out and mowed the lawn today. Slowly. And with some support. Holding on to the lawnmower. It was painful. But not excruciatingly so. Actually, it felt a little better at the end than at the beginning. Conservative treatment is almost always successful, given enough time. Treatment can last from several months to 2 years before the symptoms get better. I'm to take anti-inflammatory medications. And do heel stretching exercises. And walk less. The latter assignment will be most difficult. I may have to start focusing on upper body exercises. Also, less exercise means I'll have to be more careful watching my diet. That could be a blessing. I've lost 2 or 3 pounds already. One must learn to adapt to the pitfalls of life. Not the least being something I never heard of a few days ago. Plantar fasciitis. --Jim Broede

Without ever taking a risk.

I find that people are generally too entrenched in their ways. They are not open to change. Yes, in that sense, they tend to be robotic. My guess is that we were born without prescribed essences. Moreorless with blank screens. And we were given the opportunity by the creator to make of ourselves whatever we desire. Mostly through experimentation. And I don't think that the creator figured we'd try once or twice or three times and settle on a hum-drum existence. Instead, he thought we'd all become our novel little on-going creators. Instead, many of us choose to get into a rut. And stay in it. Without ever taking a risk and trying something new and imaginative. --Jim Broede

In the search for happiness.

I know a woman who's finally used to being on an anti-depressant. For years, she's been afraid to take the plunge. Fearful that it would curb the fluctuations in her life. The highs and the lows. And that she'd end up somewhere in the middle. Day in and day out. Sort of neutral. And therefore, that wouldn't be her real self. Instead, it would be her drug-induced self. Well, turns out that she likes her new self. She likes being rid of the extreme highs and the extreme lows. I've been trying to tell her that for a long time. That it's all right to alter one's life. In the search for happiness. --Jim Broede

Above all else, a thinking being.

I think my blog goes through streaks. Good streaks. Bad streaks. Maybe that's because life is streaky. One can be on a roll. Or down in the dumps. And somewhere inbetween. But one thing I almost always do. I write daily. In my blog. The exception may be when I'm away. Traveling. In Europe. Or wherever. But I make up for the misses. By posting a half dozen or more threads in a single day. My blog is sort of like a public journal. Of what happens to be on my mind. More so than actual events. I try to keep my mind active. Just as active as my physical being. I want to be aware that I'm alive and conscious. And happy, too. But above all else, a thinking being. --Jim Broede

Better late than never.

As one gets older, I think there's more inclination to learn how to live one day at a time. Because one becomes aware of running out of time. That nothing lasts forever. Oh, it may seem like forever when one is 20 or 30. But it's different at 74. And I imagine it's probably even more different if one reaches 84 or 94. Maybe that's one of the benefits of the likelihood of approaching death. One feels the physical body wearing out. On the decline. One can't perform quite as well any more. And things ain't likely to get better. But I find that as I descend/ascend into relative old age, life gets better. If for no other reason that I've finally learned to savor the time that's left. To live reasonably close to fully today. And not wait until tomorrow. That's the way I should have been living right from the start. But better late than never. --Jim Broede

It's sink or swim.

On the Alzheimer's message boards, I read posts from care-givers that say they are losing their minds. That they find it almost impossible to cope. And that's sad. They are being pushed beyond their human limits. They wonder what to do next. And frankly, I don't know what to tell 'em. Often, I just draw a blank. I say nothing. And maybe what I would have to say would sound silly. Such as take time off. Retreat. Get rest. Respite. Daily. In many instances, that's easier said than done. But hey, if the care-giver dropped dead, somebody would have to step in to resolve the care-giving situation. To care for the patient. Anyway, that's why care-givers have to learn first and foremost to take care of themselves. Or they'll be no good to anyone. And how does one do that? My guess is that there's no one single answer. One just has to find a way. It's sink or swim. --Jim Broede

Little wonder, they ain't GOPers.

I have no qualms about bad-mouthing Republicans. Because I detest much of what they stand for. For big business. The corporations. And for rich people. Republicans don't stand up for the middle class or poor people. It doesn't really bother most Republicans to see the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer. The Republicans believe that the 'haves' have what they have because they worked hard for it. And that the poor are mostly poor because they haven't worked hard enough. Of course, I see it another way. Many of the 'haves' exploiting the 'have-nots.' Thing is, I'm all right. I'm neither rich nor poor. I have enough to get me by. Living comfortably. But not extravagantly. I'm bothered, however, by the class divide in the USA. I'd rather see fewer rich people. And fewer poor people, too. By finding ways to redistribute the nation's wealth. Republicans don't like that idea. They are basically a greedy lot. They don't want higher taxes on the rich. And yesterday, Republicans even voted unanimously to oppose extension of unemployment benefits. Yes, in a time when we have the greatest rate of unemployment since the Great Depression. I heard one Republican decry that some of the unemployed aren't looking hard enough for jobs. And that unemployment insurance only encourages a proliferation of hobos. Shiftless, lazy people. How's that for compassion? Anyway, over the years, I've mixed with all kinds of people. Poor and rich. Republicans and Democrats and socialists. And to tell the truth, I've never been impressed by Republicans. But some of the nicest people I know are poor people. And little wonder, they ain't Republicans. --Jim Broede

How I get to know people.

I'm impulsive. Which means I tend to tell people what's on my mind. I don't hold back all that much. I even talk to strangers. Quite candidly. And I find that's beneficial. At least from my point of view. It tends to get people to open up. To become a bit impulsive themselves. I became this way when I was a newspaper reporter. I had to interview strangers. People I had never met before. And I had to try to get them to open up. To tell me their story. To answer my questions. So in interviews, I often tried to demonstrate. What it means to be impulsive. To talk frankly. People generally know where I stand. And I wanna know where they stand. That's how one gets to know people. I'm naturally shy. But you wouldn't know it from the way I act. I overcome my shyness. By being bold. Otrherwise, I might never get to know people. Yes, truly know people. --Jim Broede

Learning to love your enemy.

Seems that war has become second nature for the USA. I wonder what it'd feel like to not be at war. I suspect that America was created to be at war. Righteous wars. And not so righteous wars. We're in the ninth year of war in Afghanistan. I've never been there. And never want to be. Got better places to go. Maybe even to hell. I'm still trying to figure out why we have troops in Afghanistan. Something like 100,000. Maybe it's to give Afghans freedom. A taste of our democracy. The American way. I don't know. I hear that maybe we are there to demonstrate to Afghans how to defend their country. By killing people. And one way to do that is to wage war. But I think I have a better idea. I'd tell Afghans not to follow our example. Instead, try waging peace for a change. Learn to love your enemies. Seems to make more sense than killing 'em. --Jim Broede

They always succeed at losing.

It's time for my Chicago Cubs to write off the baseball season. To start building for next year. Trade veteran players. For prospects. Young players. Still in the minor leagues. And maybe bring up some of their own minor leaguers. Yes, build for several years in the future. Comes time when the Cubs need to decide on a new beginning. They've done that before. But it hasn't worked. Because the new beginning evolves into the same old losing ways. But hey, sooner or later, things will begin to click. Our faith is merely being put to a test. I see other teams that rebuild. Or even start from scratch. And some of 'em excel. But not the Cubs. They always fall short. By small margins. By big margins. Futility prevails. But that's the charm of the Chicago Cubs. No matter what they do. No matter how hard they try not to. They always succeed at losing. They've mastered the craft. --Jim Broede

When I'm serious, I'm most funny.

I allow myself to think of any and everything. No limits. Sane thoughts. And crazy thoughts, too. The whole gamut. Like I say. No limits. After all, I was born to think. Some people would like to put restrictions on me. To control my thinking. For instance, that I should be a good and loyal American. Not only in deeds. But in thoughts as well. But I allow myself to think bad thoughts about America. And about Republicans. That doesn't mean I treat Republicans with intolerance. After all, they have a right to be idiots. We all do, for that matter. I believe in live and let live. I also have funny thoughts. Some that border on the ridiculous. That helps make 'em funny. And sometimes I am quite serious. That's when I'm most funny. --Jim Broede

I'll consider growing fangs.

I think I lead an interesting life. Interesting to me, at least. And that's what counts. I'm never bored. Oh, I may bore people. But I don't bore myself. And I don't allow other people to bore me. I'm good at annoying boring people. And that helps make life interesting. I just love to see boring people when they get perturbed. The reactions are varied. However, anything but boring. I often stir controversy. People write me letters all the time. Telling me I'm a bad and inconsiderate guy. Seldom do they sign their names. Of course, that means they are a little bit afraid of me. Maybe a whole lot. I find that interesting. Very interesting. Because I'm really a harmless guy. No reason to be afraid of me. But hey, I don't mind the erroneous image. I've been thinking about making life even more interesting. By sharpening two of my teeth. Razor sharp. So it looks like I have fangs. That'll make my life even more interesting. --Jim Broede

I'm sleeping well. My sister ain't.

My sister is a Republican. Yes. It's a shame on the family. But hey, at least I'm not a Republican. I wouldn't want our roles reversed. I doubt that I could live as a Republican. Thinking all the time that my life has been an utter waste. Talked to my sister the other day. She was a bit sad. Because she invests heavily in the stock market. And she has many shares of British Petroleum stock. Made me laugh. Told her I'm pulling for BP to go bankrupt and out of business. Maybe she thought I was joking. I wasn't. By the way, my sister is no fan of Barack Obama. Thinks his policies and presence in the White House have done far too much to devalue her stock portfolio. And gives her sleepless nights. Makes me wonder which of us has gone astray. All I know is that I'm sleeping well. --Jim Broede

I'm easily surprised.

I don't want life to be too simple. I'd rather that life be complex. Almost too difficult to understand. That gives me some flexibility. Then I can look for my own meaning. In a sense, I can make it up as I go along. Sort of like writing a short story or even a novel. I'm living it. And I have no idea what's coming next. If life were simple, everything would be predictable. It's better to not know what's coming. To be surprised. Fact of the matter is that I've had many pleasant surprises in my life. Two unexpected loves, for instance. Much of my time I just spend gawking. Marveling at the wonders of life. Meanwhile, I see lots of bored people around me. That's a bit surprising. Of course, maybe it doesn't take much to surprise me. I'm easily surprised. Maybe that's a blessing. --Jim Broede

I'll never know. I flunked math.

I've never liked math. It was my least favorite subject in school. I much preferred English and History. Math always seemed too rational. Too logical. Too much like a rigid system. With math, numbers are supposed to fall into place, or so it seems to me. Using math, one can figure out the whys and wherefores of life with equations. One could even communicate with aliens from another world. By using math. Or so I'm told by mathematicians. I prefer carrying on dialogues in other ways. In unmathematical ways. In illogical ways. But still, I have to give grudging credit to mathematicians. For being able to figure out that light travels at 186,000 miles per second. And that the outer reaches of the universe are billions of light years away. But still, I wonder if mathematicians are pulling a hoax. And it ain't nearly that far. I'll never know. I flunked math. --Jim Broede

My soul. What is it?

I think about the human soul. I try to grasp it. Feel its existence. I want to touch it. Maybe that's what I am. A soul. I know I'm real. Therefore, a soul must be real. I'm not sure that a soul lives forever. My physical being isn't forever. But the soul part of me isn't physical. Maybe different rules apply. I'm of the mind that I can touch my soul. In a spiritual sense. I'm not sure that my soul had a cognitive awareness until it was encapsulated. In my physical being. But then, maybe it isn't contained in my body. I only imagine it is. Maybe my soul is imagining everything. Creating all these human illusions. And maybe my soul is god almighty himself. Living. Inside me. --Jim Broede

Writing whatever I want to write.

It's a rare day that I don't sit down and write. Something. Anything. Whatever comes to mind. Early in life I discovered the written word. It allowed me to talk to myself. And to record it. To see it. In a sense, it made me feel like I was creating something. Tangible. Often, it was a reminder. Of what I was thinking at a particular moment. Helped me capture an elusive thought. Human speech was a great invention. But writing an even better one. And one can write alone. Away from other people. Speech is meant to be heard. But writing. Well, that can be done in solitude. And it doesn't have to be shared. Doesn't have to be read by others. It can be oh, so private. If only I see it. If only I read it. That's sufficient. Just knowing that I've created something. A concrete, visible thought. But I've also discovered that I can reach other people. With the written word. I can tailor the words into a love letter. Many love letters. Over a sustained period of time. The love letter is my favorite form of poetry. Meant for one other. Yes, that's what I've learned to do with my life. Write. Write. Write. Write whatever I want to write. --Jim Broede

Maybe it's not too late.

I'd end the war in Afghanistan today. And channel all of the money saved from the war into creation of jobs. For jobless Americans. I'd put everyone back to work. It would be a great shot in the arm for the economy. And imagine if we had back all of that money we spent on a useless war in Iraq. We would virtually wipe out the nation's budget deficit. We'd be on Easy Street. And we'd have less terrorism in the world. Because we would be minding our own business. The terrorists don't like us. Because we are trying to exploit the rest of the world. Well, maybe it's not too late. To finally get our act together. --Jim Broede

I'm inclined to never say die.

We Americans really need a grand leader. I mean a really good one. Someone that goes down as another George Washington or Abraham Lincoln. I thought for a while that maybe we had the makings of one. In Barack Obama. But I'm beginning to wonder if we are doomed. As a nation. Without a leader. Instead, mere figureheads that lead us down the path of decline and fall. We Americans are probably gonna get what we deserve. Annihilation. A crumbling of our society. A nation that once had high-sounding principles. But lost its way. Partly because of an everybody-for-himself mentality. A capitalist economy that rotted from the inside. And no sense of the common good. But maybe some day we can start from scratch. Lift ourselves off the scrap heap. And form a more perfect union. By learning from our many, many mistakes. What the hell. I'm inclined to never say die. --Jim Broede

Let's salvage our asses.

Now we have an idiot general running the war in Afghanistan. To go along with an idiot Afghan president. And maybe an idiot American president for deciding to continue to wage war after 9 years in Afghanistan. My gawd. We oughta fire 'em all. It's beginning to look like a Three Stooges routine. Add George Bush to the mix. And we have a foursome of idiots. Bush, of course, got us into the war initially. I like to put most of the blame on him. Meanwhile, I'm very much disappointed in Preident Obama. For thinking that we Americans can still salvage something in Afghanistan. Yes. Let's salvage our asses and a little bit of dignity by getting out. Now. --Jim Broede

I wish they understood.

I find Alzheimer care-givers a fascinating lot. Especially those that congregate on message boards. In many instances, to try to help each other. To exchange information. And for moral support. I joined one of the groups. Years and years ago. Sponsored by the American Alzheimer's Association. My dear wife Jeanne had Alzheimer's. For 13 years. She died in 2007. I'm still active on the message boards. And I've made close to 7,000 posts. For the most part, I get along with my fellow care-givers. I've cultivated some close friendships from the message boards. But also, I've alienated some. By speaking my mind. Because I think some of the care-givers have no business being care-givers. They ain't suited for the task. And maybe never will be. Really, that's no shame. Unless, of course, one continues to do more harm than good to one's patient. And that happens. Unfortunately. Seems to me that Alzheimer care-givers need to be special. They need more endurance and know-how than most other kinds of care-givers. Because dealing with an Alzheimer patient can be terribly frustrating. One needs patience. And some degree of rest. Respite. Time off. Going at it 24/7 for a sustained time is gruelling. Exhausting. Debilitating. Little wonder that some care-givers breakdown. They are in worse shape than their patients. And too many of 'em don't know it. It's really sad. They need to be confronted. Intervention becomes necessary. Often, they are driven by love. And by guilt. A sense of obligation. They see their loved one deteriorate. Right before their eyes. And they can do nothing about it. Or so it seems. But the point is, they can find ways to cope. By seeking help. By maybe putting their loved one in assisted living or a nursing home. And becoming a part-time supplemental care-giver. Becoming part of a team of care-givers. But first, they need to back off. And see the situation. Objectively. But too many of 'em don't. Those are the care-givers that I maybe rub the wrong way. They want more understanding. More support. Well, believe me, I understand. I wish they understood. They're doing more harm than good. To themselves. To their patients. --Jim Broede

I tend to like honest people.

I like to be liked. But I also like to be disliked. I often wear being disliked as a badge of honor. For instance, if Republicans dislike me, it shows that I've annoyed them. That was my intent. I'm not out to please everyone. That would be stupid. I wouldn't have wanted to please Adolph Hitler. Because Hitler was a despicible man. Even worse than a Republican. That's really bad. I even dislike some people portrayed by others as nice. Because I don't think they are nice. In reality, they are wearing masks. And beneath the masks they are mean-spirited. I tend to like people who are themselves. Even if they aren't nice people. I give them credit. For being honest. For not being afraid to be themselves. --Jim Broede

I'm the master of my own destiny.

Doesn't really matter if the world goes to hell. Because an individual can still build his own world. His cocoon, so to speak. A hideout. A cloister. A refuge. I've seen lots of turmoil in the world. Hardly a time without a war. Even two or three wars at the same time. I've seen economic downturns. And all kinds of catastrophes and disasters. I would have wished for better times. But still, I'm a happy camper. Because I'm innovative. I know how to survive. And in the process, to feel reasonably free. For instance, I'm free to fall in love. With someone. And with life, in general. I know I can't overturn the government. I can't change the world. But I can isolate myself. And make myself more or less harmless. I'm no real threat to the powers that be. Even when I mouth off. Because I don't have mass appeal. I have a handful of compatriots. Friends. In other words, I make do. I become the master of my own destiny. --Jim Broede

He knows how not to fret.

I don't know whether to like or dislike Tony Hayward. He's the chief executive officer of British Petroleum (BP), the oil driller that despoiled the Gulf of Mexico. Hayward has become known for his repeated public relations gaffes. Like he doesn't know any better. Suggesting that he wants his life back. Sounds rather insensitive when 11 BP employees were killed in the devastating accident on the BP oil rig. At least Hayward still has a life. And this past weekend Hayward took time off to go sailing off the Isle of Wight. To enjoy himself. Rather than worry about the continued leaking of oil into the sea. In a sense, I like that about Hayward. He recognizes that he needs a break. That he craves the good life. Despite the shit that happens. He's not gonna let it ruin his day. Maybe that makes him selfish. And unlikeable. And a public relations disaster for BP. But that won't stop Hayward from living like royalty. In an unperturbed manner. You gotta give the guy credit. He ain't gonna worry himself to death. --Jim Broede

I'll send 'em to the crying room.

I tend to alienate crybabies. Initially, at least. But I suspect that alienation can reap benefits. Gets crybabies to think. That maybe tears are unnecessary. Used to be that my granddaughter cried. When we had her over. And she didn't get what she wanted. So I sent her to the crying room. And I said she could cry all she wanted. All day. Even all night. And I suggested that when she was all-cried-out, that she come and join us again. And we'd have some fun. Tell you what. It worked. Didn't take long for the tears to dry up. I know lots of crybabies. Even adult crybabies. People who feel sorry for themselves. They want pity parties, where they are allowed to cry. Well, they're welcome to come to my place. I'll send 'em to the crying room. --Jim Broede

We'll get exactly what we deserve.

My liberal teachers tell me that liberalism takes time. That liberal policies don't take hold overnight. Especially when applied to fix the destruction wrought by conservatism. By the likes of George Bush and his neo-conservative cronies. But so many Americans want an instant fix. Like a magic wand fix. We Americans have little patience. We want Utopia today. So we forget who got us into this ungawdly mess in the first place. Conservatives. Our memories are short. Because a liberal Barack Obama administration has been in power for 18 months, we assume it's all his fault. Therefore, we'll vote the Republicans back into office. And we'll get exactly what we deserve. The complete and final destruction of America. --Jim Broede

It'll take forever to find the truth.

I like to support people by getting them to think. Often, by disagreeing with them. By taking issue. I'm told by some that's not being very supportive. Instead, I should agree with people. And tell them that everything they do is right and correct. That they are wise and perceptive. Geniuses. Oh, that approach is all right at times. But often, it's not being truthful. And I'm of the notion that it's truth that sets us free. Of course, I know that truth can be a rather elusive commodity. And maybe some of us never discover the truth. Ah, but the search for the truth. That's the wonderful part of life. Even if we don't find the truth. Anyway, I want to live forever. Because I expect that's how long it'll take me to find the truth. --Jim Broede

They'll believe anything.

I suspect that stupidity is a matter of choice. At least most of the time. Most people aren't inherently stupid. They just choose to be stupid. Maybe out of laziness. But other times, maybe because they like being stupid. It often relieves them of decisionmaking. And stress. Take Republicans, for instance. They don't have to stay Republicans. They can wise up. And see the light. But they'd rather live the life of robots. Dwelling in ignorance. And do as they're told. By their leaders. Albeit, leaders that qualify as full-fledged idiots. If people learned to think for themselves, no way would they remain Republicans. They like to be programmed. Because then they can just drift through life. Without bothersome thinking. Without feeling alive. It's akin to sleepwalking. Going through the motions. Non-thinking Republicans even praise British Petroleum (BP) for the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. Silly. Stupid. But hey, that's what their brain and wagging tongue were programmed to do. And they like to be obedient. To bow down and kiss the feet, and even the ass, of their master programmer. They'll believe anything. That the world is flat. That the rest of the universe revolves around Planet Earth. That Republicans are smart and good. --Jim Broede

I'm being put to a loyalty test.

Baseball can be a maddening game. Exhilerating, too. Take my Chicago Cubs. Yesterday, they lost 12-0 to Anaheim. Stunk up the joint. Played terrible baseball. Today, they beat Anaheim, 12-1. Played almost flawless baseball. Smelled like roses. I'm a diehard Cubs fan. I threaten almost daily to renounce my allegiance. But I always come back. The next day. For more suffering. The Cubs taunt us. They've lost 16 games this season by margins of one run. The most in the major leagues. If they had won half of those games, they'd have 8 more wins and 8 fewer losses. They'd be in the thick of the pennant race. The Cubs find ways to lose. In tough and heart-breaking ways. Maybe that's by design. The aim is to put Cubs fans to a test. To a loyalty test. --Jim Broede-

America, it's time to wake up.

We need to fix the USA with an effort beyond the one that we put forth for World War II. It's long overdue. We Americans haven't been asked to do very much in coping with crisis after crisis in the last decade or two. We need a national effort. To fix the economy. To rebuild and expand our infrastructure. To put everyone back to work. To end our dependence on fossil fuels. Yes, there's quite a list. An indication that America is on the decline. We've become second rate. And we are descending rapidly. Toward third rate. And fourth rate. We could become a holy shame. And hit the bottom. A disgrace. But we can still be saved. We can pick ourselves up by our bootstraps. By putting forth an all-out effort. By repudiating what we've become. By resolve. By determination. By waking up. --Jim Broede

No such thing as perfection.

I would argue that Jesus had character flaws. That he was far from a perfect human being. But that was one of his strengths. He was all too human. In the eyes of god, Jesus may even have been a sinner. His intentions may have been good. And pure. But still, there must have been times when he screwed up. But then again, I'm also assuming that god screws up. That god makes mistakes. That god is less than perfect. After all, perfection is in the eye of the beholder. And it's quite possible there is no such thing as perfection. That nothing was ever intended to be perfect. Only reasonably good. --Jim Broede

Not as stupid as they look.

I've fine-tuned my powers of persuasion. To the point that it's become virtually 100 percent effective. Used to be that some idiots that read this blog kept filing irreverent and stupid and negative comments. I tried to convince them to be more positive. Or to not even bother posting at all. They've taken my advice. Goes to show that they can be reached. They may not be as stupid as they look. --Jim Broede

I'm busy being happy.

I've found the secret of happiness. And that's to look for it. Today. Don't wait until tomorrow or next week or next month. Find a reason to be happy. Now. And grasp it. Don't put it off. Actually, finding happiness is an easy assignment for me. Because I'm in love. And I don't even have to remind myself. Love vibrations keep running up and down my spine. Oh, what a pleasurable, happy feeling. Meanwhile, I don't understand why some people postpone happiness. They choose to stay unhappy. Or indifferent. That's a sad state of affairs. Most days, I'm able to find 100 reasons to be happy. But I don't bother to count 'em. Because I'm busy being happy. At the moment. --Jim Broede

What are we gonna do about it?

Chalk it up as greed. Typical capitalist greed. To make quick bucks. By cutting corners. By taking extraordinary risks. That's where I put the blame for the massive oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. And it could be far worse than we've imagined. If efforts to construct relief wells to stop the flow fail --and that's a real possibility -- the oil leakage in the sea could continue for two to four years. That's the guesstimate of some experts. Imagine that. That's pollution of the highest order. Gawd awful. A disaster. A catastrophe. All for the quest of profit. Stinking profit. That's the motivation in our capitalist society. British Petroleum (BP). The poster child for capitalist greed. The fourth largest corporation in the world. That dares exploit us all. The entire world. The people. The environment. For profit. Obscene profit. It's a crime against humanity. Against us all. And what are we gonna do about it? --Jim Broede

A new & more disgraceful status.

I wonder if there's a profession more lowly than that of politician. Probably not. I think I'd rather be the village idiot than a politician. Albeit, some village idiots have been elected to public office. Yes, they've become politicians. I've spent much of my life as the village idiot. And I got elected to the school board. So I know of what I speak. But after one term in office, I quit. And I never ran again. I came to my senses. Learned my lesson. Besides, I couldn't stand the shame. I'd rather be a scumbag than a politician. That would move me up a notch. Make me feel a little bit better about myself. I'd find it hard to live with myself if I were a politician. It'd bother my conscience. To know that I've sunk to a new and more disgraceful status. --Jim Broede

Making life too complicated.

I learned to build my days in large part on the basis of Jeanne's good days. That always revved me up. I grasped at the little things. A faint smile. A good appetite. A word or two. Interesting thing about life. One learns to make the most of it. To rally one's spirits. I suppose if one were very, very hungry, it wouldn't take much to satisfy one's appetite. Any kind of food might taste good. Or a sip of water to quench one's thirst. Maybe I was selfish. In wanting Jeanne to live. Even with Alzheimer's. For a long, long time. In a sense, Jeanne was meeting my need. Even though she may have been better off dying. Probably because maybe I would have wanted to die. If the positions were reversed. Maybe my inclination is to put my needs first and foremost. Of course, I tell myself that I learned acceptance. And patience. And tolerance. And maybe even something about love. And maybe I even make life more complicated than it is. --Jim Broede

Cubs fans always have hope.

Doesn't take much to make a Chicago Cubs fan happy. At least for a brief moment. Last night the Cubs rallied to beat Oakland, 3-2. That made for the Cubs first two-game winning streak in three weeks. We Cubs fans go into a state of euphoria with such accomplishments. Thinking that the Cubs may be on the verge of turning the season around. But alas, I see the Cubs are losing 6-2 in the 8th inning today. A sign that we ain't gonna win three straight. But one can always hope for a late rally. A wonderful comeback. Yes, we Cubs fans always have hope. --Jim Broede

Makes one think. About intimacy.

I'm reading a novel. By Czech writer Ivan Klima. It's called 'The Ultimate Intimacy.' A splendid story. The protagonist is a Protestant clergyman. He preaches about love. But he begins to wonder if he really understands love. The depth of it. Because he thinks he lacks intimacy. Can one really have a love without being intimate? Truly intimate. In the fullest sense of the word. Which probably means being totally naked. With another being. In every which way. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Soulfully. You name it. No stone left unturned. Two beings totally intimate with each other. Maybe that comes closest to profound love. The rest of the stuff may just be a sham. Anyway, Klima is a fascinating writer. Makes one think. About this thing called love. And intimacy. --Jim Broede

Guess it depends on the definition.

If my aim in life were to make money, lots of money, I'd strive to become a corporate executive. Like Tony Hayward, the CEO at British Petroleum. I'd be hauling in a salary of $4.5 million a year. Not bad. Certainly more than I make now in a lifetime. I don't do it. In part because I don't need that much money to find happiness. But then again, my kind of happiness and Tony's kind might be quite different. Albeit, Tony may not be so very happy at the moment. He said recently that he wished he had his life back. As if he had lost his life. But if Tony stops to think about it, he could get his life back today. By pulling up stakes. Leaving BP. And retiring on his savings. Ample enough, I gather, to tide him over for the rest of his life. Even if he lives to be 114. But then again, maybe Tony would consider himself an unhappy, disconsolate pauper if he only had a few million dollars to tide him over. Guess it depends on how one defines happiness. And life. --Jim Broede

The difference is in the knowing.

We allow words to get distorted. To mean something negative. When really, the word should have a positive meaning. Such as welfare. Or liberal. Unfortunately, we've allowed people with anti-welfare and anti-liberal biases to define the words. Just the same way that an anti-conservative like me defines conservative. I think of conservatives as idiots. Just as conservatives think of me (a liberal) as an idiot. When really both of us might be pretty decent fellas. But we borrow each other's tactics. At the very least, we poke fun. We tend to be unfair. But we are being honest. Because we actually perceive each other as ignorant and ill-informed. And even unprincipled. But still, I maintain there's a big difference between a liberal and a conservative. Liberals know they're idiots. Consevatives don't know they're idiots. That makes liberals smart idiots. And conservatives stupid idiots. --Jim Broede

It's a matter of proper focus.

The problem with too many Alzheimer caregivers: They are too focused on themselves. They don't accept the idea that they are ill-suited for care-giving. That they do more harm than good. To themselves. And to their patients. They don't grasp what's really happening. Too many pity parties. Care-givers feeling sorry for themselves. They don't like being constructively criticized. And some of 'em think of themselves as martyrs. They lose track of their patients' best interests. It's all about them. Rather than about their patients. And how to provide proper care-giving. The needs of care-givers have to be addressed. No doubt about it. But first and foremost should be the needs of the patients. And how we meet those needs. That often gets ignored. Overlooked. --Jim Broede

Separating fact from bullshit.

Give Barack Obama credit. For twisting arms. For getting British Petroleum (BP) to deny their shareholders of the usual annual dividends. And instead diverting $20 billion into clean-up of its oil spill and for economic relief for businesses and property owners along the Gulf of Mexico coast. Obama is using the strong arm of government to rein in the faulty and foolhardy practices of private business. That's good for Obama. But it's also good for America. Private business has operated for too long in their little fiefdoms. Doing as they damn well please. With little, or no regulation. I'm beginning to think that Obama knows what he's doing. Making government effective and efficient. Moreso than private business. Some of the big corporations are badly run. Far worse than government. But the businesses would like we Americans to think that government is inefficient, and the private sector is the model of efficiency. Of course, that's bullshit. And we'd know it. If only we opened our minds and our eyes. And listened more closely to Obama. --Jim Broede

A sign that we're going to hell.

Leave it to a Republican to feel sorry for British Petroleum (BP). For having to put $20 billion in escrow for the clean up and other damages caused by its oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. Rep. Joe Barton of Texas apologized to BP for being required by the Obama administration to put up the cash, or else. "I'm ashamed of what happened in the White House yesterday," Barton said. "I think it is a tragedy of the first proportion that a private corporation can be subjected to what I would characterize as a shakedown -- in this case a $20 billion shakedown." I wonder if Barton would prefer that the American taxpayers bail out BP. Meanwhile, as an American, I'm ashamed that we have idiots such as Barton in Congress. I'd like to blame Texans for that. But we have an even bigger idiot from my home district in Minnesota. Her name is Michele Bachmann. Another sign that America is going to hell. --Jim Broede

My cat and I talk to each other.

I talk to my cat Loverboy. A whole lot. And I'm convinced that makes him smarter. He even replies to me. In his own language. Yes, he makes sounds. That probably mean something. To him, at least. I also talk to Alzheimer patients. Much like I talk to Loverboy. And I think it works. Loverboy understands me. And so do many of the late-stage Alzheimer patients. Maybe they've lost their usual language. But quite possibly they grasp the gist of my comments and queries just by the tone of voice. But one must work with the Alzheimer patients as frequently as I speak with Loverboy. Daily. Once in a while doesn't do the trick. --Jim Broede

I just focus on being me.

I have never wanted to be all things to all people. That would be stupid. In addition to being impossible. Instead, I like to pick my own priorities. Do pretty much as I please. Although I like doing nice things. For and with other people. I also like to stir a ruckus or two. Rock the boat. Some people tell me what they want me to be. That's a mistake. On their part. I'm pretty much a live-and-let-live guy. Albeit, I'll take issue with people. For their opinions. Especially if I think they are saying something stupid. I say stupid things, too. Because I like to impersonate other people. In a poking fun sort of way. Anyway, since i can't be all things to all people, I just focus on being me. --Jim Broede

Kind of scary, isn't it?

We want our leaders to be grand and glorious. Magical. Bigger than life. Able to make us believe in the impossible. But turns out, we want too much. Our leaders probably are just as ordinary as the rest of us. Just as vulnerable. Yet, we glorify many of 'em. Put 'em on a pedestal. Or we allow our leaders to disappoint us. Because we wanted them to be more than what they are. Instead, they're just like us. Kind of scary, isn't it? --Jim Broede

Jobs for the oil spillers.

I see that some local officials in Louisiana are pissed at Barack Obama. For declaring a 6-month moratorium on further deep sea drilling for oil. Heard one of 'em tonight say that it's perfectly safe. As long as it's done right. And that the British Petroleum (BP) oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico was due to negligence and incompetence. And that otherwise, it's perfectly safe. The local officials bemoan the fact that oil rig workers may be without jobs during the moratorium. And that'll hurt the economy. Interesting, isn't it? Jobs seem to be more important than protecting the environment. Anyway, laid-off oil rig workers can always find jobs. Cleaning up their oil spills. It'll take years and years. --Jim Broede

Time to mend their ways.

In my days as an Alzheimer's care-giver I stumbled across many other care-givers. Most of whom were quite good at care-giving. But I also encountered some that were very bad at it. That had no business being care-givers. Because they caused more harm than good. To their patients. And even to themselves. Actually, at the start, I wasn't very good at it either. I learned the hard way. From on-the-job experience. And I think that ultimately I got it right. Or reasonably so. I'm sure there are different ways to get it right. For me, it was mostly a case of recognizing that I couldn't handle 24/7 care-giving. The round-the-clock stuff. It was far too exhausting. Mentally and physically. Eventually, I put my dear Jeanne into a nursuing home, and for 38 months I spent an average of 8 to 10 hours a day with her. Didn't miss a single day. But that was not a grind. It really became a pleasure. Because I went home every night after tucking Jeanne into bed, and I got respite. A much-needed break. An opportunity to recharge my batteries for the next day. So every day with Jeanne, I exuded good vibes. I had an upbeat disposition. And it rubbed off. On Jeanne and other residents I mixed with at the nursing home. Yes, I became a member of a care-giving team. And I moreorless became captain of the team. I was Jeanne's well-rested advocate and protector. By taking care of myself, I took better care of Jeanne. When I was on duty 24/7, I didn't always handle the assignment well. I sometimes became ornery and despondent and exuded, on occasion, less than good vibes. That made me a bad care-giver. There's too many of 'em around. And I wish they'd find ways to mend their ways. --Jim Broede

The return of good times.

In the last 3 years of Jeanne's life, I learned acceptance. I learned that Jeanne wasn't gonna get better. And that it was only a matter of time before she would die. I guess that goes for all of us. But I knew there was no getting better from Alzheimer's. There was no recovery. And so it was a matter of acceptance. And making the best of each and every day. In a sense, that was the way to postpone the inevitable. I wasn't thinking ahead to tomorrow. I was finally learning to live in the moment. And to accept today for what it is. When I came home from the nursing home at night, I had sort of a reprieve. A respite. An opportunity to recharge my batteries. And to put life into proper perspective. I wasn't fighting the inevitable any more. I was accepting. And salvaging everything I could. Everything that was meaningful. I wasn't lamenting. I wasn't cursing fate. Because I still had meaningful aspects of Jeanne. And of life, period. I was prepared, if necessary, to go on like that forever. Of course, death came. It always does. Sooner or later. Some day, I'll be the one that dies. But meanwhile, I want to live. To really savor today. The moment. Everything I can get out of life. It'd be nice if we never had to lose a loved one. If life could always go on in an idyllic fashion. But I know that's not the nature of life. And I have to accept it. And I'm learning to truly enjoy the good times. And to accept the bad times. And weather them. And wait for the inevitable return of good times. --Jim Broede

I want to think more like god.

I want to become a citizen of the world. Not just of the USA. I don't want to be known as strictly an American. Because that's too limiting. I can even fathom a world government. I like my heritage. Czech on my mother's side. German on my father's side. But that's only one small part of me. I want to feel at home no matter where I am. Could be in Africa. Or Asia. Or the South Sea islands. Anywhere on planet Earth. Or for that matter, on the moon or Mars. Or at distant places in the cosmos. Thousands of light years away. My guess is that god considers all of creation to be his home. Maybe that's the way I should think, too. Like god. After all, weren't we folks supposed to have been made in the image of god? --Jim Broede

I'll settle for a drizzle, too.

Rain. Rain. Rain. I love it. Yes, one can get too much of sunshine. Give me some contrast. I like all kinds of weather. Even snow and cold. Lately, we've been getting rain. And I appreciate it. The ground was getting far too dry. And on a summer day, I love to walk. Beneath the clouds. And pelted by rain. Albeit, I'll settle for a drizzle, too. --Jim Broede

Let's make BP pay up. Or else.

If British Petroleum's (BP) heart is in the right place, shareholders will be denied dividends for a long, long time. Instead, the dividends will be poured into a fund to clean up the Gulf of Mexico and the surrounding wetlands. And to compensate people and busineesses hurt by the gigantic and devastating oil spill. There's talk of requiring BP to create a $20 billion escrow fund. And even that may not be enough. But at least, it'd be a good start. It's time that greedy capitalists and their idiotic and destructive ventures be brought to task. To be made to pay for damages. Totally. Completely. Even if that puts some of 'em out of business. --Jim Broede

The Hatfields. And the McCoys.

When it comes to politics, I think we've lost the art of give and take. Yes, compromise. Reaching the kind of accord in which both sides get something. Not everything. Too many politicians want it all. They want clear cut winners and losers. It's as if there's a right way and a wrong way to run things. Black and white. That's why we are in big trouble in the USA. We shift back and forth. From one extreme to another. We think of our opponent as the enemy. Sort of a war mentality. Kill or be killed. I wasn't taught that at Sunday school. I was supposed to at the very least respect my so-called enemy. Even to love him. But that apparently doesn't apply in the realm of politics. There is a lack of objectivity. A lack of innate fairness. Your party is all right. The other party is all wrong. It's a divide. The Hatfields. And the McCoys. --Jim Broede

I always end up happy again.

I think life has a way of working out for the best. Sooner or later. At least that's what I've discovered in the first 74 years. When things have gone bad, they've always gotten better. And I end up being happy again. Of course, the day may come when things don't get better. Such as I could die, and life comes to an end. That would be a disappointment. Because I want to live forever. Of course, there could be life after death. A good life. If so, the current trend will continue. And I'll be happier than ever. --Jim Broede

Without losing meaningful ways.

I'm impressed. By family physicians in Italy. They even make house calls. On Sunday mornings. I remember when I was growing up in Wisconsin. Doctors still made house calls. That was a long time ago. But imagine. They still do it in Italy. And there's also universal health care. Countries such as Italy have moved into the modern era. Without losing the meaningful ways of the past. --Jim Broede

Wrecking America beyond repair.

Seems that everybody has answers to our political, social and economic problems. But nothing seems to work. Perfectly, that is. So we Americans tend to become disgruntled. And so we get in the mood to change course. Before things are allowed to work. We even talk seriously about returning the Republicans and the idiot conservatives to power. After Obama and the Democarts have been given less than two years to clean up the mess perpetrated by the the Republicans and conservatives. It took them eight years to create this ungawdly mess. And we expect it all to be fixed in two years. Well, I'll tell you one thing. Give the Republicans control again, and they'll finish the job. Wrecking America beyond repair. --Jim Broede

Happiness is to be in love.

Pardon me if I keep getting back to the same theme. People, for the most part, choose to be unhappy. Yes, it's a choice. They don't necessarily have to be unhappy. But they want to be unhappy. Which makes them sort of sick. They think they were put on Earth to suffer. To be downright unhappy. That god gave them life. For the privilege of being able to suffer. To feel mental anguish and physical pain. Something similar to being nailed to a cross. Really, that's their idol. Jesus. Their example. Do as Jesus did. Albeit, some suggest that Jesus did all of this for us. So that we wouldn't have to be crucified. So that we could have an easier, more comfortable life. But still, happiness is a concept hard for some of us to grasp. I'm one of the exceptions. I grasp it. Happiness is to be in love. With someone. With life. --Jim Broede

Little wonder why we are unhappy.

I think there's a wave of unhappiness sweeping across America. Maybe it's that Americans feel insecure. Because of the economy. Or the fact that we have idiots running the country. In government. And in the private sector, too. It's as if nobody knows what he/she is doing. Wall Street bankers are supposed to be the smart ones. But they are greedy. And they virtually bankrupted the economy. By taking absurd risks. With our money. Yes, we taxpayers bailed 'em out. Because we are even bigger idiots than the bankers. We are dupes. And then we let BP Petroleum turn the Gulf of Mexico into a gigantic oil slick. One of the worst environmental disasters of all time. And just watch who ends up paying for the bulk of the clean-up. Yes, we consumers. We taxpayers. Because private enterprise knows how to bilk us all. Even if BP says it's putting up the cash. Yes, cash derived when BP picked our pockets. Little wonder why we're so unhappy. We're saps. --Jim Broede

Sure beats thinking, doesn't it?

I'm beginning to understand why many Americans haven't become avid fans of soccer. Because periods are played for sustained 45 minutes. Non-stop. And that's far beyond the average American sports fan's attention span. He/she needs a break. Every few minutes. For commercials. And to go to the bathroom. Little wonder why commercial TV stations would rather bring American football and baseball games. So many, many opportunities to take commercial breaks between innings. To sell products. To brainwash us with 30-second sound bites. We Americans are like trained seals and rats. We react to subliminal messages. That's how we form our political, social and economic views. From idiotic but clever sound bites. Sure beats thinking, doesn't it? --Jim Broede

Yes, BP helps to define 'chutzpah'.

Seems to me that British Petroleum (BP) can afford to clean up the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. Because last year BP made a profit of $16.7 billion. That's right. BP knows how to rake in the money. Because it knows how to cut corners rather than develop fail-safe methods for extracting oil from beneath the sea. Of course, BP would like American taxpayers to help foot the clean-up bill. That really takes chutzpah. But that's the nature of greedy capitalists. By the way, Exxon Mobile out-profited BP last year. With a profit of $19.3 billion. Meanwhile, Wall Street broker Goldman Sachs made only a measly $13.4 billion. Even with the help of a bailout by taxpayers. --Jim Broede

Here's a feat for a Cubs' player.

My Chicago Cubs never cease to amaze me. Maybe that's why I stick with them. Because they always find new ways to lose. Some baseball fans covet teams that find new ways to win. Well, that's too simple. I get turned on to new ways to lose games. Such as the Cubs did yesterday. Surrendering runs to Milwaukee in three innings. Without so much as a single hit. Instead, the Cubs pitchers yielded a bountiful number of walks and the fielders committed three errors. And then there's the guy who's supposed to be the team's best run-producer. He's turned into a virtual hitless wonder. Batting about .150 for the entire season. Anyway, if I were the boss of the Cubs, I'd recruit a retired player, Jose Conseco, to make a comeback with the Cubs. I think that once upon a time, he was playing in the outfield when a catchable fly ball bounced off his head and over the fence for a homerun. A Cubs player hasn't performed that feat. Yet. --Jim Broede

Italians want a barrelful of laughs.

I don't particularly like the way the world operates. Politically. Socially. Economically. I'd change lots of things. If I had my way. But far more often than not, I don't have my way. I have to accept the world as it is. Or find ways to live the way I want to live. Usually, that means retreating to my cocoon. My own little niche. And I focus on a handful of friends and acquaintances. In a sense, I create my own little world. An environs that's really quite tolerable. Comfortable. Enough to make me happy most of the time. Yes, i've found ways to beat the systems. Not always. But sometimes. I get great satisfaction from beating the system. The bureaucracy. Some people are better at it than others. For instance, I think the Italians are particularly good at it. Americans aren't quite as good at it. Maybe it's in the temperament. Seems to me the Italians don't take life quite as seriously as we Americans. They're really more easy-going. They don't anger as quickly. And I think that's because they have found ways to beat the system. To best the bureaucracy. They have more endurance. More patience. More keen sense of awareness about how to do it. They see humor in life. They are, for the most part, actually very proud of their prime minister, Silvio Berlusconi. Not because he's a stateman. He isn't. But rather because he's a buffoon. He's entertaining. And that's what Italians want in their leader. A barrelful of laughs. --Jim Broede

The pursuit of love tops my list.

Sometimes I think retirement is too good to be true. I never imagined it would be this good. It's an opportunity to live the way I want to live. To feel genuinely free. I have time. To do things. Or to just be lazy. To put things off. Though I seldom do. I'm busy. Occupied. I have the opportunity to take time to think. And to record my thoughts. I think especially about the fact that a lifetime is far too short. That there are so many things I won't have time to do. Partly because I refuse to be in a hurry. I want to savor a few things rather than tackle many, many things. Therefore, I establish priorities. And at the top of my list is the pursuit of love. --Jim Broede

I don't want to know everything.

I'm set in my ways. But I'm also adaptable. I can adjust. Yes, if necessary, I can change my ways. That's why I would be easy to live with. Albeit, I'm pretty much a loner. I can be shy. But I'm also gregarious. Depends on the situation. I could live alone on a desert island. But I also could live in the middle of New York City. And be happy in both places. I'm also quite romantic. And a bit crazy. Especially when I'm in love. It's a very nice crazy. I'm a spiritual being. But I'm not religious in the traditional sense. And I have far more questions than answers. But that doesn't bother me. Because I really don't want to know everything. It might be too scary. And I don't ever want to be frightened by life. --Jim Broede

Let's bring criminal charges.

I love it. I love it. British Petroleum (BP) has a public relations problem. Little wonder. For spilling oil relentlessly into the Gulf of Mexico. And lord knows when it's gonna stop. Meanwhile, it's all right if BP becomes the most hated corporation in the world. Or at least in the USA. BP executives and shareholders are becoming a bit worried. The value of BP stock is plummeting, down to about half of what it was worth before the spill. Maybe it'll become worthless some day. And the executives will lose their jobs. But CEO Tony Hayward won't be hurting. He's been taking home an annual salary of $4.5 million. That'll tide him over in tough times. I see a report that BP might withhold its annual dividends to shareholders this year. On condition that U.S. government officials tone down their negative rhetoric about BP. Tone down? It's not been nearly negative enough. Let's bring criminal charges. --Jim Broede

Some day. Some day. Some day.

The wealthiest 1 percent of Americans own financial wealth six times greater than the financial wealth of the entire bottom 80 percent. That's why I want a redistribution of the wealth. We're top heavy in this nation. That 1 percent really runs the show. They're the super, greedy capitalists. They have money, And money is power. They can buy influence. Yes, they buy our elected officials. And we relatively poor common folk can't seem to do anything about it. We're really powerless. Because we're too stupid or too lazy to do anything about it. We just play our roles as village idiots. Of course, I'm for bringing Robinhood to power. He'd rob the rich and give to the poor. Some day. Some day. Some day. --Jim Broede

I like my sauce a bit tart.

I've decided to become a farmer. A rhubarb farmer. I just bought some rhubarb plants. And I've planted 'em in the sunniest place in my yard. I'll cultivate the stuff. I'm told I won't have much of a crop until next year. But I can already taste the rhubarb. I love to make rhubarb sauce. Normally, I go to the grocery store and buy rhubarb for $3.99 a pound. Then I chop it up. Put it in a big kettle. With water. Bring the whole concoction to a boil. Adding a little sugar. Not too much. I like my sauce a bit tart. --Jim Broede

I like the looks of Canada.

I like living close to Canada. Because our neighbor to the immediate north of Minnesota often sends us cool and clean Canadian air. Like today. Here it is June 9. And it's a pleasant and comfortable day because of a breeze out of the north. From Canada. Now if I lived in Florida or Arizona, I'd seldom feel the benefits of Canadian air. I'd be roasting. Or living in a sweat box. I also like Canadian politics. Canadians are a sensible people. They have and support universal health care. So anyway, if politics keep turning bad in the USA, and the idiot Tea Party conservatives seize control some day, I'm all for secession. I'd like to see Minnesota become a part of Canada. --Jim Broede

Sadly, BP runs the show.

I know that lots of people don't trust government. They'd like less and less government in their lives. They'd leave the private sector to dominate. But that could be a big mistake. For instance, should one put faith and trust in British Petroleum (BP) to clean up the oil spill mess in the Gulf of Mexico? Or is this a time for government to step in? My guess is that BP is run by liars and distorters of the truth. BP's primary goal is to make money, as fast as possible. And if the environment has to be sacrificed in the process, so be it. As the fourth largest corporation in the world, BP has the money to buy power and influence. It's almost as if BP has government officials on the payroll. In that sense, BP is the government. BP calls the shots. And the common good be damned. To tell the truth, we need more government. Bigger government. Government with clout. To rein in the likes of BP and other greedy capitalists. Republicans in government have spent decades at deregulating BP and other big businesses. Allowing them to rape the land, the environment. And pick the pockets of taxpayers to bail out Wall Street and insurance companies and other financiers. Just watch. In the end, it'll be the taxpayers that pay the majority of the cost for clean up of BP's mistakes. BP will see to it. Because BP has far more power than ordinary American taxpayers. BP runs the show. Sad, isn't it? --Jim Broede

Life is easier with a friend.

I've been known to hurt people's feelings. To rub them the wrong way. Maybe I do it intentionally. Sometimes. But other times, I do it unintentionally. Because I don't always know what is hurtful. Maybe because I am stupid. Or insensitive. But that's the risk of being opinionated. I don't often hide my feelings. My thoughts. And I'm not out to collect friends. Occasionally, friends happen. And that's nice. I just let it happen. And if it doesn't, I don't lose sleep over it. Because I find that I can easily live with only a friend or two or three. Or even without a friend for that matter. But I have to admit that life is easier and more fulfilling with at least one close and dear friend. And I've had that most of my life. --Jim Broede

I've stumbled into Paradise.

I think there's such a thing as confidence. Without a huge ego. To me, real confidence is to take risks. Without fear of failure. Because one is confident enough to know that it's possible to turn failures into learning experiences. Half the time, or maybe even more often than that, I don't know exactly what I'm doing. I take chances. Even in the way I write. I just feel my way through a labyrinth. Trusting that eventually I'll find my way. I try not to panic. And I try to get things right. Eventually. Often after many mistakes. To me that's the mark of confidence. I admit that I'm stupid. That at times I've gotten lost in my journey through life. But I've learned that it can be thrilling and fulfilling to get lost. Because it has taken me to places I didn't necessarily want to go to initially. But it wound up to be the right place. Yes, on occasion I've actually stumbled into Paradise. --Jim Broede

I don't even sweat the big stuff.

When things go wrong in my life, they are usually little things. Trivial. And I used to get annoyed over the little stuff. But I rarely do that any more. It's like when my Chicago Cubs lose a game that I feel they should have won. Years ago, that would have upset me. Now I get over it. In minutes. Because I remind myself that the outcome of a sports event is not a life and death matter. It's trivial. Unimportant. I've even learned to put into perspective tragedies over which I have no control. Yes, the fact that I recognize that I can't do anything to change what has happened. Such as the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. Even though I don't like it. There's not much I can do about it. I have to leave that to other people. Such as our so-called leaders. I can write about it. In my blog. But that's like walking into the wilderness and talking out loud. It falls on deaf ears. But still, I speak my piece. That satisfies me. Even if I'm not heard. Which means I have found a way to no longer sweat some of the big stuff. --Jim Broede

Let's put BP out of business.

I'm aiming barbs at Public Enemy No. 1. Someone. Or something. Maybe a corporation that deserves to be despised as much as Adolph Hitler. Such as British Petroleum (BP). I'd like to see BP put out of business. I'm certainly not gonna buy any gasoline at a BP station. I might even picket the local station. And encourage motorists to go elsewhere. I used to take my cars to the BP station for oil changes. And some routine maintenance. But no more. Just two months ago, I didn't even know what the BP initials stood for. Now I know. The company that has despoiled the Gulf of Mexico. And the pollution/oil spill keeps spreading. Even into the Atlantic Ocean. Maybe all the way up to the British Isles and Scandinavia. I hope the Brits and the Swedes and my fellow Americans are just as pissed as me. Let's insist that criminal charges be brought against BP executives. Let's put BP into receivership so that all of its assets can be used for environmental clean-up. Let's put BP, the fourth largest corporation in the world, out of business. --Jim Broede

I'm finally learning how to relax.

I just completed a brisk 6-mile walk in 90 minutes. And now I've sat down. To write. And I'm physically tired. But mentally awake. And relaxed. Both mentally and physically. And I feel good about myself. And I wouldn't necessarily have to physically exercise to get into this state of euphoria. I could just as easily achieve a 'high' by writing a love letter. Even if I was tired. After a long and exhausting day. I'd still feel a good tired by writing a love letter. Or maybe by just doing a project around the house. Something that gives me personal satisfaction. Yes, I think as I get older, I'm finally learning how to relax. --Jim

I've discovered Martha Nussbaum.

Martha Nussbaum. I never heard of her. Until Sunday night. When I saw Nussbaum interviewed on C-Span. Wow! She's smart. Intelligent. A philosopher. A professor at the University of Chicago. She's 63. But looks younger. Anyway, I wonder where I've been. Because I was unaware of Nussbaum. I was captivated. She's so smooth. So articulate. I was mesmerized. If I lived in Chicago, I'd trot right over to the university and sign up for one of her philosophy courses. Turns out that Nussbaum has written 16 books. On a variety of stimulating subjects. I suspect I'll read all 16. I find life so very thrilling. I make new discoveries virtually every day. --Jim Broede

I'm the happy one.

I've noticed that unhappy people generally stick together. In other words, misery likes company. And it may be that unhappy people avoid happy people because the contrast makes their unhappiness seem even more profound. That's just my theory. On the other hand, it doesn't bother me to associate with unhappy people. Because I feel blessed -- that I'm the happy one. --Jim Broede

So far, so good.

I think we can choose what we want to be. Happy or unhappy. Nobody commands that I have to be one or the other. It's my choice. That's why I marvel when I see unhappy people. Especially if they are unhappy over a long period of time. Because there are so many opportunities to be happy. Personally, I can't stand to be unhappy. If I'm in the doldrums, I have to find my way out. So I feel my way. I do things. Until I discover happiness again. Yes, I consciously search for happiness. And I always find it. Sooner or later. Thank gawd. I have free will. I'm not compelled to be unhappy. Of course, I can be. If I want to. But that would mean I have a sick mind. And I don't want to be sick. I want to be well. And happy. So far, so good. --Jim Broede

'You'll be loved forever.'

I suspect that we too often give up too easily on people in our lives. On Alzheimer patients, for instance. We write them off. Because we think they can't get better. That they no longer have a useful life. But that's not true. I think my Jeanne had a useful and meaningful life for the 13 years after she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I learned that Jeanne could be reached. That she was developing a one-track mind. But that by getting her to focus on one thing at a time, she could find comprehension. And even enjoyment and pleasure. I kept Jeanne out of the congregate dining area at the nursing home. Because there was too much activity. Too many distractions. Instead, I was able to feed Jeanne in the quiet of her room. Face-to-face. One-on-one. Focused on the pleasure of taste. On eating. In the evening, I'd wheel Jeanne down to the shower room. And she would feel the pleasure of warm water. Of being dried with a soft towel. The feel of a body lotion massage. Grasping an isolated moment. And Jeanne would fall asleep with earphones, listening to her favorite soft, soothing music. In the morning, Jeanne would be taken out in a wheelchair. To feel the sunshine. And a fresh breeze on her face. Maybe when we returned to her room, I'd comb her hair. Yes, I'd get her to focus on the pleasure of a comb or brush moving slowly through her hair. And I'd always speak softly, gently, lovingly. No harsh tones. Even on the day Jeanne died, I whispered in her ear. "It's all right to let go, my sweet love. You'll be loved forever." --Jim

Now that's a scary thought.

I have so many unanswered questions. About life. About god. About the cosmos. And the thing is, I suspect they'll be mostly unanswerable. Forever. I have no hope of getting the answers. Because that would take profound intelligence. Insights that go even far beyond my imagination. I have limits. I was not created to understand it all. Just as well, maybe. Because if I understood everything, I'd be god. But then again, I'm not sure about that. I think that it's possible that god is just as stupid as the rest of us. Now that's a scary thought. --Jim Broede

They just don't see what I see.

I like the weather today. So changeable. So variable. One minute, the sun is shining. The next minute, it's storming. Complete with hail. Then it's back to sun again. I don't see a day like this very often. That makes it a treat. Being so unusual. That's a nice thing about life. If I look for it, I can find something unusual. On a daily basis. No reason to be bored. I see many bored people around me. I suspect it's because they don't open their minds. Or their eyes. They just don't see what I see. --Jim Broede

Maybe I could roll a 300 game.

Crap happens. But I don't let it bother me too much. Because it wouldn't really make a difference. Even if it bothered me. So I just get on with life. And find a reason to be happy. Despite the crap. I'm a little like the mythical Sisyphus. Condemned to push a huge boulder up a hill, only to have it slip away and roll back down the hill just before reaching the top. Never quite making it. But Sisyphus and I enjoy the trek down. We take our time. Enjoy the scenery. And the good weather. And we thank god for giving us the strength and stamina to be able to push the rock. And I even dream of becoming a sculpturer, so that I can make something of the boulder. A work of art. But I also could put some pins at the bottom of the hill. And turn the boulder into a huge bowling ball. Maybe I could roll a 300 game. Now that ain't crap. It's an achievement. --Jim Broede

Yes, that's why shit happens.

I think we want our nation's president to be a god, of sorts. Capable of solving each and every problem. But fact of the matter is that one intelligent and professorial man can't do it all. Things happen. Doesn't matter who's in the White House. Some problems can't be solved. At least not easily. Often it takes time. A long, long time. Almost seems like forever. Take the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. It happened largely because of human blunder. Could it have been prevented? Of course, it could. But the point is, it happened. And now we have to learn to live with it. To cope. To deal with it. And to try to see that something similar doesn't happen again. But face it. It'll take decades to return the environment back to what it used to be. Only god could fix this thing more or less overnight. But that won't happen. Because either god chooses to not intervene. Or maybe there isn't even a god. Only Barack Obama. Our esteemed leader. And he ain't gonna do it. Because he's leading a nation and a world filled with an abundance of idiots. Yes, that's why shit happens. And always will. --Jim Broede

When I enter my own little world.

The sports world is a separate world. As I well know. Because I used to be a sportswriter. And I could have stayed one. Made a career of it. But I chose not to. Because I wanted to expand my world. Yet, I limited my world, too. I built my cocoon. My own little world, so to speak. I never completely cut my ties with sports. With athletic events. I remained a sports fan. Or maybe I should say I'm a Chicago Cubs (baseball) and Chicago Bears (football) fan. It makes me feel good when the Cubs or Bears win. Even when they are having bad seasons. I still get solace from an isolated win. And occasionally they have good seasons. The Bears even won the Super Bowl in 1985. And they even got into the Super Bowl in 2006. And I even get solace when the Cubs make it to the playoffs. Albeit, they haven't made it to the World Series since 1945. I get frustrated, and even pissed, when the Cubs are having a bad season. Such as now. But hey, my day is brightened even if they only win occasionally. It doesn't take much for me to feel good. When I enter my own little world. --Jim Broede

Far worse than the 9/11 attack.

The British Petroleum oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is worse than all the damage caused by terrorists since 9/11. It's causing more havoc to the environment than if a terrorist had exploded several hydrogen bombs. The damage will be felt for decades. Maybe for generations. I'd characterize BP executives such as CEO Tony Hayward as equivalent to Osama bin Laden. Incompetent and uncaring fools. Idiots. Inadvertent environmental terrorists at the very least. They should be brought to justice. Put in prison for the rest of their lives. And BP should be put into receivership. Compelled to pay for the damages. Monetarily. Every penny that normally would go to BP shareholders as dividends should be paid instead to fishermen and businesses and property owners along the gulf coast. Eventually, BP should be put out of business and be declared Public Enemy No. 1. --Jim Broede

Unhappiness makes some happy.

I refuse to be unhappy. Occasionally, I find myself on the verge of unhappiness. But I put a stop to it. Immediately. Because I think I was put on Earth to be happy. That's my mission. My purpose. My destiny. I know some people sense they were born to be unhappy. But I think that's absurd. I reason that there's a god. And he's a god of love. A creator. And he wouldn't create anyone with the intent of making an innately unhappy being. That would be an utter waste of the creative endeavor. But some people go awry. Actually concluding that being unhappy makes them happy. Weird, isn't it? --Jim Broede

I still live decently, despite it all.

Ah, yes, I learn to live in the world no matter what. Oil spills. Terrorists and 9/11. George Bush. Republicans. Another losing season for the Chicago Cubs. A collapse of the economy. The death of friends. But hey, I'm still around. I wake up every morning. And remind myself that I'm in love. That I'm gonna travel to exotic places this summer. That I'm still capable of exercising. Mentally and physically. So, I really have nothing to complain about. I can still live a decent life. No matter what's happening on planet Earth. --Jim Broede

Give me baseball players with zest.

It'a time to shake up the Chicago Cubs organization. Get rid of most of the high-salaried players. And start over. Yes, rebuild. Develop with young players. The Cubs have become too stagnant. Playing too many players that ride on their reputations. They aren't what they used to be. Now they are overpaid. And albatrosses around the neck of the organization. They lack zest. The Cubs keep finding new ways to lose. I want a team that finds ways to win. With players that really enjoy playing baseball. So much so that they'd make salary secondary. --Jim Broede

Blaming everybody but ourselves.

I hope the environmental calamity called the BP oil spill doesn't get worse. But I know better. I see all sorts of scientific speculation. That the oil will keep spreading. All the way around the Florida coast. Up the east coast of the USA. Well out into the Atlantic Ocean. Even reaching the British Isles sooner or later. Yes, this is getting to be pretty serious stuff. A spill in the Gulf of Mexico doesn't merely stay there. It spreads and spreads and spreads. We humans are capable of destroying our planet. In little ways. In big ways. We contaminate the air. The water. Even ourselves. And we point fingers. We blame BP. We blame our politicians. Virtually everybody but our individual selves. --Jim Broede

So that I can savor it all.

I know many people who love life. In their own ways. Many of 'em like to burn both ends of the candle, so to speak. To cram a lot into their lives. They do lots of extra things. Maybe some of it out of a sense of obligation. Or responsibility. For which I admire them. But I wonder if some of us try to do too much. If we push ourselves too hard. Too far. I think I used to do that myself. Took on more projects, more responsibility than I could adequately handle. And so maybe I ended up doing some things in a half-assed manner. In other words, when I felt rested and relaxed, I began to ask myself, "Am I doing enough? Am I taking it too easy? Am I becoming lazy?' Anyway, I decided I had to set priorities. That I couldn't accomplish everything I wanted to accomplish. And that I couldn't be all things to all people. So I began to treat myself better. In the process, I treated other people better. I truly learned how to love people. And life. And myself. I've slowed down. Mellowed. So that I can savor it all. --Jim Broede

No good at saving the environs.

Let’s bring rape charges against executives of British Petroleum. For raping the environment. The Gulf of Mexico. And the wetlands along the shores. Maybe the biggest environmental rape of all time. This could be a rape that lasts and lasts. For decades. Maybe even for a century. And to think, BP executives thought they could get away with it. That they could make a few quick bucks. By drilling for oil a mile beneath the sea surface. Sure, it was risky. But what the heck? It was worth a try. Nobody was committing murder. It was merely rape. But hey, wait a second. Some 11 workers on the rig were killed. So maybe it was murder. Of course, all kinds of wildlife will be lost, too. I guess that doesn’t count. Animals. Fish. They ain’t human. Our lives are more important. We’re intelligent. Civilized. We know how to run things. We have the technological know how. To even send spacecraft to Mars. Problem is we’re no good at saving the environment. –Jim Broede