I confessed to the theft.

The other day, I stole some flowers from my neighbor's yard. He has too many flowers. Including some lovely orange flowers. I don't know what they are called. Other than pretty. I swiped four of 'em. Put them in a vase. On my desk. And when I connected with my girlfriend in Italy, on Skype, the audio-video network, I presented her with the bouquet. I said the flowers were courtesy of my neighbor, the Olsons. That they gladly surrendered the flowers. That they had far too many flowers. And that in a week or two they'd go to waste. Because we'll have a hard freeze by then. Anyway, later I saw Mrs. Olson out in the yard. And I told her I saw a thief run off with flowers. Yes, I confessed. I asked her for the name of the flowers. She was embarrassed. Because she didn't know. Her husband is the master gardener. He knows all the names. Maybe he'll tell me some day. -Jim Broede

I don't want any burning crosses.

It's the political season. And that means politicians have erected lawn signs up and down my street. And they're all Republicans. Sad to say, I live in a Republican neighborhood. I'm the only socialist and Democrat sympathizer. I'm the only resident here that voted for Obama. Maybe it's a sign that I'm the least affluent. Everybody aroud here, except me, qualifies as rich. My lakeshore lot is worth more than my house. Two doors south of me are two swank, multi-million dollar mansions. Both are for sale. One listed with the prestigious international Sotheby's. My house, relatively speaking, is a shack. But it's home. Nice. I like the location. The lakefront. I'm facing west. So I am in perfect position to see the sunsets. And a mile or so straight across the lake from me is Forest Lake's Lakeside Park. From which, on July 4th, are launched fireworks. So I just sit out on my deck and watch the colorful splendour in the sky. My neighbors have mostly fleets of motorboats and pontoon boats. I just have a canoe with a little trolling motor and a couple of paddles. They also have fancy docks. I just wade out into the lake from the shore. We socialists live without the finer Republican luxuries. I've been thinking about inviting socialists and Democrats to put their lawn signs in my yard. But I'm fearful of a neighborhood uprising of Republican vigilantes. They might decide to teach me a lesson and burn a cross on my lawn. --Jim Broede

Without sin.

I've always craved for alone time. To be off by myself. To wander in a proverbial wilderness. Being alone has never scared me. Oh, I want the company of people, too. The camaraderie of togetherness. Family. But I can live alone. And have. I have learned to appreciate solitude. And it gives me opportunity. To write. To think. To commune. With the spirits. With the most meaningful forms of life. In the beginning. When the world was less complicated. Or was it that one didn't have to know everything? One just lived. For the sake of living. I wonder if that was when man was closest to the creator. When being was being alone. With god. Uncorrupted. Without sin. --Jim Broede

I learned that I really cared.

Maybe we all should be care-givers. To the people in our lives. Care-giving should be a natural part of living. And often, it isn't. That's why care-givers for sick people, such as Alzheimer patients, have a very difficult time of it. They aren't used to care-giving. It's a totally new thing for them. And far too much to handle. Sometimes, we don't even want to take care of our loved ones. But they need care. Even when they are healthy. Tender loving care, really. We all need care. But we don't necessarily get it. We are left to fend for ourselves. And I suppose most of us can do it. Successfully. But still, it would be nice to get an assist. Even when we don't particularly need it. As an act of love. That would keep us in practice. And we'd be honing our care-giving skills. For when they are really needed. In dire situations. I think love triggers a desire to be a care-giver. That's really what care-giving should be. An act of love. But it's also good to have professional care-givers, who don't necessarily do it for love. But just to earn a living. That's all right, too. Some of 'em are very skilled at it. And often, their motivation is to be of service to people in need. When I first started taking care of my dear Jeanne, after she had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, I wasn't sure that I would be very adept at it. But hey, I learned. And most of all, I learned that I was very much in love with Jeanne. And that I really cared. --Jim Broede

So many ways to balance one's life.

Alzheimer care-givers need diversions. In addition to respite. Some of 'em tell me that even when they take time off and socialize with other people, they often find themselves talking only about Alzheimer's. They are totally pre-occupied with the devastating disease and their role as care-giver. There's no escaping it. And that drives some care-givers a bit nuts. And they wonder what they can do about it. That's where diversions come in. I found that when I was moreorless a full-time care-giver to my Jeanne, I had to fall in love. With something. I took to reading. Good literature. I took to music. Listening to and appreciating music. I also cultivated my love for nature. And gardening. I went for long walks. In the woods. Along the lakeshore. I savored moments of solitude. Yes, all sorts of diversions. I'm a writer, and I've always been in love with writing. So I embraced my writing. On all kinds of subjects. Of course, many of the care-givers I encounter are caring for a parent. And those care-givers are fortunate if they are in love, with a friend or a spouse. Love of another human being may be the nicest diversion of all. But hey, if one doesn't have a close friend at the moment, then I suggest falling in love with some aspect of life. Such as literature, music or nature. So many, many options. So many ways to balance one's life. Even during the most difficult of times. --Jim Broede

Atheists know more than believers.

A new study shows that many devout Americans know less about religion than do atheists. And that doesn't surprise me. I know atheists who became atheists only after they studied religion. Some of 'em came to the conclusion that organized religions have foundations built on bullshit. Anyway, I've also discovered that many of the atheists I know are, in my opinion, more moral and trustworthy and decent than many professed Christians. That makes me wonder if god might look more favorably toward an atheist than toward an 'imperfect' Christian. I think of myself as a free-thinker. I believe in a concept that might well be called god. Knowing full well that god manifests himself/herself/itself in multiple ways. Many of them unexplainable and beyond human comprehension. I believe only because I want to believe. Probably for romantic reasons. Not based on any solid, indisputable evidence. --Jim Broede

We're gonna get a taste of hell.

Democrats are worried that their base won't turn out for the mid-term elections in November. Because of apathy. And I understand that. Lots of liberals just give up. They often think it's useless to vote. Because we get the same old same old. Maybe programs a little bit better than those offered by Republicans. But in the end, sad to say, there really isn't all that much contrast between the two political parties. It's a matter of choosing between bad and worse. Yes, choosing between degrees of badness. Liberal Democrats think that their party has betrayed them. Fallen far short of a liberal agenda. But Barack Obama tells them, let's get what we can. Let's try to compromise with Republicans. Even though Republicans insist on playing an obstructionist role. I suspect that many liberals have decided to allow the Republicans to surge into the majority again. By staying home on election day. So the nation can go to hell. Because only then will Americans truly wake up. Life ain't good in hell. But some of us are too dumb to know it. Until we get there. Unfortunately, by then it may be too late to do anything about it. --Jim Broede

If only we don't give up.

I'm of a mind that every problem can be solved. I don't care how bad it is. It can be solved. Maybe the only solution may be acceptance. For instance, if someone has lost a leg or an arm, he may have to learn to live with it. Make the best of it. That qualifies as a solution to the problem. One may actually learn to live a better life because of it. Practically every day I read the Alzheimer's message boards. And care-givers lament about their problems. But everyone of those problems have solutions. Often, with multiple options. That's the nice, positive thing about life. We're able to find solutions to our problems. If only we face 'em head on. If only we don't give up. --Jim Broede

I'm richer than a millionaire.

Let's face it. In an industrialized, capitalist nation such as the USA, the motivating force is to make money. Lots of it. To get rich. The ambitious money-makers generally thrive. They become millionaires. And billionaires. They know how to work and manipulate the system. The less ambitious settle for less. Maybe just enough to get by. They might settle for a cozy little home in a city. Or maybe a little piece of land in the country. They aren't rich. But not poor either. Their spare time isn't spent getting rich. But to have a reasonably comfortable life. And enough to get by when they retire. These are the people that settle more or less for the basic necessities of life. A decent living wage. A good health care system. Good public schools. A reasonable amount of leisure and vacation time. And a loving, close-knit family. They have no desire to become millionaires or billionaires. Just enough to afford the basics. They are my kind of people. More so than the big-time capitalists. But I think it's these so-called ordinary people that get shortchanged. At least in the USA. And that's a dirty rotten shame. The rules of the game are written to benefit mostly the private moneymakers. The bankers. The corporate bosses. The ones that know how to milk the system. At the expense of the poor and the middle class. That’s why I’m not a Republican. The party that represents the affluent. The rich. The big power manipulators. I’m really a socialist in my heart and soul. I’m for us ordinary folks. The poor. The middle class. We’ll settle for the basics. We don’t need to make more money than we need. In my case, I’d rather have good health and a loving relationship with another human being. That makes me feel richer than a millionaire. –Jim Broede

It's money, not votes that count.

I have many affluent American acquaintances. And virtually all of 'em are Republicans. Doesn't surprise me. After all, they know who best serves their economic interest. Affluency also buys access. To government decisionmakers. And rich people know where to put their money. In places where it's likely to make them even more money. And these people are well-educated, and well-connected. They are well-acquainted with the power structure. And they know how to manipulate it. Meanwhile, many in the lower and middle classes -- well, they're just plain dumb. And not well-connected. And they don't have enough money to wield any significant influence. That's the nature of life in the USA. The whole system is rigged. We tell citizens that they live in a democracy and that they have a vote. And that a poor man has the same number of votes as a rich man, namely one. But the fact of the matter is that votes don't count in our democracy. Money counts. --Jim Broede

I'm siding with the Muslims.

Doesn't matter to me which religion becomes the dominant one in the USA. Some day, it might well be Islam. Rather than Christianity. Actually, it would be nice to see Christianity given a run for its money. As far as religions go, I have an attitude of live and let live. Let them all flourish. Or all fail. As long as we have separation of state and church, it's okay with me. I don't wanna interfere with any religion, and I don't want any religion to interfere with me. Let's just go our own ways. Of course, I'm a free-thinker. Which means I have strong spiritual beliefs, but I don't belong to any organized religion. I prefer direct contact with god. No go-betweens, no middle clergy. I'm capable of figuring out things for myself. Personally, I find most organized religions entertaining. And amusing. I'll enter a church now and then. To marvel at the architectural beauty. And to listen to the music, preferably chamber or orchestral. Mozart composed several church sonatas that send me into ecstacy. I'm not so keen on his requiem. I'm not much on hymns either. But I like mesmerizing chants. I like to study religions. And I even occasionally audit a course at a local liberal seminary. They welcome virtually anyone. Evidenced by me. Just for kicks, I'd like to some day earn a degree in divinity. Anyway, getting back to Islam. I think Muslims are increasing in numbers in the USA. Which may scare some conservative Christians. But that's all right. I like to see Christians a little bit apprehensive. Some of 'em are opposed to a 15-story Islamic Center being built a few blocks from Ground Zero in New york City. But I'm all for it. Partly because some idiot Christians are against it for no earthly reason. --Jim Broede

Doing what's best for society.

I have ideas. Lots of ideas. To make for a better life. For me. And for others. Mostly, I want to see the serving of the common good. Moves and actions that benefit society as a whole. And I think we start moving in the right direction by redistributing the wealth. Now there's too much wealth concentrated in the pockets of a relatively few people. That ain't right. Might even consider it a sin. Certainly not what the likes of Jesus and many other philosophers have envisioned over the ages. No doubt about it, Jesus was a socialist at heart. Little wonder that he overturned the tables of money lenders. He would have abhored American-style capitalism. And he would have looked at Republicans with high disdain. For wanting to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. We need more a sense of camaraderie. That we are all in this together. And that we much share the burden in society. By helping each other. By doing what's best for society as a whole rather than what's best for the solitary individual. --Jim Broede

Starting with a dream.

I'd like a society in which everyone that wants to work is able to find work. And at a decent, liveable wage. Is that asking too much? No. It's the right thing to do. Create enough jobs. So that there's work for everyone. I don't care whether they are private or public sector jobs. Whatever works. Certainly, the nation's infrastructure needs repair and expansion. That, alone, wouid put millions of our jobless back to work. And it would be a boost for the economy. And a better life for us all. I want us to try to create an ideal society. We'll never achieve perfection. But hey, let's continually aim at building a better society. I don't like what we have now. Far too many failings. Far too big a gap between the rich and the poor. Let's redistribute some of the wealth for the sake of the common good. If I were in charge, I'd have the government form a Job Corps. With units sprinkled throughout the country. The unemployed could join. And they'd be put to work providing essential services and making much-needed local community improvements. Ah, yes, I'm a dreamer. But that's how big change comes about. Starting with a dream. --Jim Broede

The greatest hoax of all time.

I'm 99 percent convinced that several prominent 'ultra-conservatives' are putting on an act. They really aren't what they appear to be. I have in mind the likes of Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter. Their common schticks are so preposterous that it is obvious they can't be real. My guess is that initially, they had no idea that Republicans or anyone for that matter would fall for their line and take it so seriously. They wanted to make everybody laugh by appearing as ignorant conservatives ridiculing liberals. Accusing liberals of every foul thing under the sun. In other words, they made themselves look like babbling idiots. Just for the fun of it. By making one outlandish statement after another. And by saying it's time for America to return to the values of the 18th century, when there was rampant inequality. When slavery was the 'in' thing. And when women knew their place as third-class citizens. Well, these three fake conservatives soon found that real conservatives were dumb enough to take them seriously. To take their comedic acts as serious gospel. When really it's pure bullshit. They quickly discovered that the average IQ of a Republican ranged between that of an idiot and an imbecile. And so they were able to sell their schtick/spiel. And make a ton of money as de facto leaders of the conservative movement. They really are charlatans. Pulling the greatest hoax of all time. --Jim Broede

Hand gestures may save me.

I'm trying to learn a new language. Italian. And it ain't easy. Especially at my ripe age. It's easier for a young mind to master a language. Anyway, I haven't even mastered English yet. I'm still feeling my way. But I have an incentive to learn Italian. I'm expecting to spend a goodly part of my life in Italy. At least the winters. In countries such as Germany, one can easily get by speaking English. Germans are pretty much bilingual, and their second language often is English. But Italians -- well, they are Italians. And you gotta speak their language to really get by. Of course, my Italian girlfriend speaks English. Good English. She teaches English and English literature. So in addition to teaching me Italian, she can teach me better English. I'm also learning Italian sign language. Italians speak a lot with their hands. So if I forget some words, maybe I can make myself understood. With hand gestures. --Jim Broede

My sister is quite novel.

My sister would make a good character in a novel. Because she's an interesting study. A woman of multiple marriages. And in her lifetime, she's gone from rags to riches. At the same time, she's had major health problems. Much of it from her own undoings. But here she is in her 71st year. Still surviving. And well-off financially. Partly the result of marrying money. But also, as a result of her own acumen. From wise investments in the stock market. If I ever wrote a novel, I'd probably bring her into it. As well as a few other people I've known over a lifetime. Maybe even my brother and my mother and my father. Nobody is totally immune. Because I learn from the people in my life. I'd end up putting most of 'em, and maybe all of 'em, in favorable lights. Yes, I'd try not to be judgmental. Because there's probably not a right way or a wrong way to live one's life. And from my perspective, everyone lives interesting lives. Worthy of becoming a protagonist in a novel. At times, I've lost contact with my sister. But in recent times, I've renewed and cultivated the relationship. To some extent, at the urging of my Italian girlfriend. Who happens to be big on family. Anyway, I think my sister and I are honest with each other. We tell it as we see it. I'm not sure if my sister sees reality as clearly as I do. Or maybe it's that we have quite different realities. But I do give my sister credit for getting her act together. She's become a recovering alcoholic. Late in life. That's a big improvement. But the sad thing is that she's a Republican. I would have hoped for a better fate for her. And I would have thought she would have been more appreciative and compassionate toward the downtrodden and the poor. Because that's exactly where she came from. Abject poverty when she was in her 20s and 30s and even 40s. But she thinks that if she could make it and pull herself up by the bootstraps, everybody can do it. She's opposed to free handouts. And she feels the rich have a right to get richer. And that if the poor stay poor, it's the fault of the poor themselves. My sister thinks I'm a kook. Because I am sympthetic to socialists and I'm anti-Republican. But hey, we're talking to each other. In pleasant and delightful ways. And she's well aware that she may some day find herself in a novel. --Jim Broede

So, ponder, my fellow Americans.

"The question comes down to whether we want a society in which the rich take an ever-increasing share of the pie, or prefer to return to conditions that allow all classes to anticipate an increasing standard of living. Demanding that the rich get a tax cut as a condition for tax relief for others is simply elitist. Tea Partiers, take note."

Richard H. Thaler, a professor of economics and behavioral science at the Booth School of Business at the University of Chicago, said it today in an article in the New York Times.

So, ponder, my fellow Americans. --Jim Broede

Do we understand ourselves?

I suspect that many people don't talk to each other enough. Sweethearts. Husbands and wives. Close friends. Acquaintances. Even strangers. We should talk more. I don't mean small talk. I mean about meaningful stuff. About life. About the importance of knowing and understanding each other. In far-reaching and intimate terms. If that happened, I think the world would be a better place. We don't do it nearly enough. And not only should we talk to each other more, we should learn to listen. We should grasp the meaning of each other's words. I see so many people just going through the motions. Of talking. Of listening. They really aren't into it. They see each other in shallow ways. They don't probe the depths. I suppose some people are frightened. By intimacy. By closeness. Or maybe it is that they don't understand themselves. And if they can't do that, how can they understand another being? --Jim Broede

We don't deserve our democracy.

The only way America is gonna get out of debt is to pay its way out. That means you and I. Every citizen. The rich and the poor. We're all gonna have to pitch in and make sacrifices. And those who can afford to pay higher taxes ought to be paying higher taxes. Mostly the rich. The millionaires. And the billionaires. And it wouldn't even surprise me if we have a trillionaire or two in the mix. Yes, the filty rich. People who don't have any business being that rich. Because it's a sin. And remember, folks, we're in deep and horrendous debt primarily because of a Republican administration and a Republican congress. George Bush came in with a budget surplus. And he left with the biggest deficit in our nation's history. And a major reason for the deficiti is not only big spending, but enormous tax cuts for our richest citizens. And now that we've had a Democratic administration for two years, we have Republicans complaining that we aren't getting out of debt fast enough. That takes chutzpah. Republicans even have the gall to suggest that they should be returned to a majority this November in order to right the ship. Yes, the same Republicans that got us into this mess in the first place. Pardon the cliche. But that's like putting the fox in charge of the chicken coop. Unfortuantely, there are far too many Americans that are gullible enough to buy the Republican bullshit. The Republicans are running on a platform of retaining the Bush tax cuts for the rich. Imagine that. That alone is expected to add something like $700 billion to the debt, right off the bat. If this happens, what does it say for the American democracy? I'll tell you. That we Americans are the dumbest, most stupid people in the universe. We don't deserve our democracy. --Jim Broede

Gawd forbid.

Dealing with Republicans is like dealing with Alzheimer patients. You don't reason with 'em. Instead, you have to enter their world. At times, it seems a bit insane. Far-fetched. A rather weird reality. But that's the nature of the disease. Whether it be Alzheimer's or Republicanism. I learned to never get angry with Alzheimer patients. Because they can't help themselves. It's the disease speaking. And gradually, I'm coming around to the same tack in dealing with Republicans. It's the disease. They are helpless. And with the most rabid Republicans, the disease has progressed to levels where they have to be confined in insane asylums. Because they could do harm to themselves. And to America. Gawd forbid. --Jim Broede

My prescription: A lazy weekend.

At times, I like to feel lethargic. Downright lazy. Used to be that's how I felt when I went on vacation. Down in Arizona. It was a nice break from the stress of being at work. Everything slowed down. I felt tired at 9 in the evening. And went to bed. When customarily I'm up until 1 or 2 in the morning. But being in a lazy mode was good for me. I was winding down. Resting my body and my mind and my spirit. I was carving out a time in life when I didn't have to get revved up. When I could coast and drift and float. One shouldn't be on the go all the time. A friend told me today that she was feeling lethargic. As if that was bad. And I said, 'Good for you.' That's exactly what she needs after going through a period of emotional stress and trauma. She has to allow her whole being to recuperate. To allow for lethargy. A lazy weekend. --Jim Broede

Idiots & kooks have a right to be.

The lawn sign down my road reads, 'Liberalism 202: Keep on Taxing.' Of course, that's the way conservatives describe liberals. Politicians who tax endlessly. Well, there's nothing wrong with that. That's how much of government is financed. With taxes. Taxes are good. Taxes bring good. Yes, we citizens of America should be expected to pay taxes. Government and government services ain't free. In any civilized society, I'd expect to see taxes. Yes, I'm told that the only certainties in life are death and taxes. If we have to do away with one, I'd much prefer it be death. I'd rather have taxes than death. No doubt about it. But some of my buddies on the Republican side of the aisle would rather keep death and eliminate taxes. That's a very bad choice. But then, Republicans are known for making bad choices. They tend to be idiots and kooks. I accept that as a given. Idiots and kooks have a right to exist in our society. But I just wish we'd keep them out of government and away from any serious decisionmaking. --Jim Broede

Doing what I feel like doing.

I like doing what i feel like doing. For instance, not having to report for work. Because I'm retired. But I still work, in a sense. In that I have things to do. Daily. I sit down and write, for instance. More writing than when I made my living as a writer. For newspapers. But now I write what I want to write. Primarily my blog. And love letters. That suits me fine. It's no longer work. It's pure and simple pleasure. The way life was meant to be lived. In an ideal world, we'd all be what we want to be. Yes, I know that's impractical. But I have finally found a way to be what I want to be. Mainly, a romantic idealist, a free-thinker, a liberal and a lover. That's my focus. Because I'm able to get by on my pension and my social security. And I own my own home. It gets me by. I can even do some traveling. And court my love. Chances are I don't have a whole lot of years left. I'm 75. But I feel healthy and rambunctious. And I've learned to take life one day at a time. Savoring it all. Appreciating doing what I feel like doing. --Jim Broede

I'm finding better things to do.

I've lost interest in local politics. In the city council. And the school board. I pay hardly any attention to local issues. It's not worth the time and effort. And I pretty much don't give a darn what they decide. I'm indifferent. Quite a change for me. Before I retired, I made my living by writing about local politics. Addressing all sorts of issues. But now I ignore local politics. Because it all seems so petty. So insignificant. But I haven't lost interest in national and international politics. I keep a close eye on it. And I write about it in my blog. But I recognize that I have virtually no influence on political matters. So maybe some day I'll just turn it off. I really have better things to do. Over which I can have great influence. Such as the pursuit of love. --Jim Broede

Doing it my way.

Maybe I come across as a chronic complainer. A griper. But hey, I'm still in love with life. I'm even in love with complaining. Usually, about injustices. Sure, I ain't gonna be able to correct all of the injustices/wrongs in the world. For that matter, maybe not any of 'em. But at least, I let people know I'm pissed. Happily pissed. Happy that I'm able to be pissed. Happy that I'm able to complain. Happy that I can sound off. I could keep quiet. Say nothing. But then I'd be unhappy. And I want to be happy. So I complain loudly. And vociferously sometimes. I become snide. And sarcastic. And downright demeaning. But I don't go to war. I stop short of physical violence. Instead, I use words to voice my displeasure. The spoken word. The written word. I was born to sound off. Some people would like to shut me up. But I won't allow it. That's why I have a blog. Where I have a great deal of freedom of expression. Doing it my way. --Jim Broede

Like I've never seen before.

It's a blustery, cloudy day here in Minnesota. Looks cold. But really, it's still mild. Jacket or sweater weather. That's all. Still tolerable. Maybe a little like a Sardinian winter. Yes, I'm trying to imagine a Sardinian winter. Sardinians may think of it as winter. But I suspect I'll think of it as a fake winter. That it's really not winter. Because winter has snow. And numbing cold. And ice. Frozen lakes. And a winter carnival. Sardinia is different. Very different. Like something I've never seen before. That's what I am expecting. --Jim Broede

Doomed to failure.

Even if America disintegrates. Dies as a nation. Fades away. Like the ancient Roman Empire. That's all right. We can chalk it up as a failed experiment. Really, it'll give historians and writers such as me plenty to write about. Pondering the question, why did America fail? The simple answer, I suppose, is that we never got it right. That's the problem. Throughout all of history, we've never had a perfect government. They have all failed. They rise. They fall. I suppose America was doomed to failure. Because we started out wrong. We Americans lied to ourselves right from the beginning. We pretended we were something that we were not. A civilized society. In which all human beings were created equal. Imagine such a proclamation. In a society built on slave labor economy. A society in which women were deemed highly inferior to men. And not only that, where money was all powerful. The rule of the rich. And to hell with the common good. Yes, historians will conclude that it was all a sham. Right from the beginning. Doomed to failure. --Jim Broede

All the way to hell.

I try not to worry. But the state of American politics has me worried. Because it's so polarized. And hateful. Oh, I tell myself I shouldn't worry. That's just the nature of politics. That's why we have revolutions. And civil wars. I know that it's generally thought that our Civil War occurred from about 1861 to 1865. So bloody. But I wonder if we are in the midst of another civil war. With the sharp division between our two major political parties. We aren't necessarily killing each other. But seems to me that we are killing our nation. Because divided we fall. And maybe we are even more divided and hateful than we were in the 1860s. And what is fomenting all of this? It's the media. The way we get our news. Our information. Our ideas. We have so very many competing media. We can pick and choose from hundreds of slants on the round-the-clock news cycle. Very subjective slants. And many, many Americans are incapable of separating fact from fiction. We're too dumb. Too stupid. For instance, many of us tune in the Fox News Network and take it as gospel. We believe all of the bullshit. Our saviors have become the likes of Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly and Newt Gingrich and Sarah Palin and other right wing nuts. Look at 'em. They abound. The more sane commentators see what's happening. We are evolving into a Banana Republic. Where chaos rules. Where big corporations bent on the defeat of sane and common good government rule the roost. They have gained control of our information outlets. Our news media. And most scary of all, our minds. We have been manipulated. As a society. We are following the Pied Piper. Right off the cliff. All the way to hell. --Jim Broede

For a sentimental reason.

I wear two watches. One on my right wrist. The other on the left. Usually, but not always, the watches are set for the same time. The watch on my left wrist is a gift. From my girlfriend. It's an old-fashioned watch. Self-winding. But it's not always reliable. Self-winding means that I have to shake it. Maybe once or twice a day. To make certain that it 'winds.' Sometimes, I forget. And the watch stops. On my right wrist, I have a battery-operated watch. It runs for years. Non-stop. Never needs winding, of course. And it's accurate. But my favorite watch is on the left. For a sentimental reason. --Jim Broede

I have my priorities.

I used to like to take pictures. Photographs. And I became very good at it. Because I worked at it. I carried a camera with me all the time. And I looked for scenes. For happenings. For things I could photograph. Often in unusual ways. Artistic ways. Photography also became part of my workday. But eventually, I lost interest. Because I focused more and more time on writing. I made a choice. I'd rather write than take pictures. Sure, I could have done both. And I did for a while. But I concluded that to do a decent job of writing, I had to devote more time to it. So something had to be sacrificed. Yes, photography. Oh, I'd like to do a million things. Become good at 100 things. But it's a 24-hour day. And I need eight hours of sleep. So I have to make choices. So I make time for writing. And the pursuit of love. Some days, that's all I do. I have my priorities. --Jim Broede

Let Republicans burn in hell.

I don't mind paying taxes. It wouldn't even bother me if my taxes increased. To help pay for social programs to help the more than 40 million Americans living in poverty. It's a national shame. A disgrace. That we have people barely living from hand to mouth when we have about 2 percent of the population controlling about 80 percent of the wealth. And we tolerate it. And furthermore, we'll make the gap between the rich and poor even wider by electing Republicans this fall. Yes, the party of the rich will even get some votes from those living in poverty. Goes to show how stupid people can be. They lack education, and common sense, and don't know any better. That's just the way many of the rich plutocrats want to keep it. Let 'em live in ignorance and poverty. If they don't have bread, let 'em eat cake. Anyway, I'm thankful for programs such as social security and medicare. They are my lifelines. I'd gladly pay more to strengthen them. But many a Republican would like to eliminate these programs. The aim, of course, is to make the poor even poorer. And the rich even richer. I think that's a sin. For which Republicans should burn in hell. --Jim Broede

Even in a downpour.

It's a rainy day in September. A bit cool. But still, I wanna go out and ride my bicycle. And I'm trying to convince myself that it'll be a treat. Riding in the rain. I play these kinds of mental games with myself. Suggesting that life should be full of all kinds of experiences. Maybe even riding a bicycle in a rainstorm. Just to get the feel of it. Fact of the matter is I don't want to let circumstances defeat me. Most people would forget about riding a bicycle on a rainy day. Not me. I'll dress appropriately. In rain-repellent clothing. And maybe with a silly-looking plastic shower cap. And a choker/scarf to cover my delicate and handsome lower face. Maybe I'll attract attention. And hear people proclaim, 'There goes that idiot Broede.' But that won't bother me. I want my exercise. And I'll get it. One way or another. Even in a downpour. --Jim Broede

I like the assignment.

I don't know what I'm gonna write next. Or think next. I just let things happen. It's kinda like I'm caught up in a stream. The stream of life. And I just let it flow. And go along for the ride. If I try to divert course, and give it all a nudge, I suspect it's by some grand design. Maybe I've received a push. From god himself. Or maybe from the devil. Albeit, I'm a believer in god. But not in the devil. However, I think god has a devilish side. A split personality. I'm assuming that I was made by god. And that he wanted me to be a little like himself. A lover. Yes, he's the god of love. And he wants love to permeate all of existence/creation. But he knows that's gonna take time and great effort. So he created the likes of me. To assist in the endeavor. I'm supposed to set an example. And become a lover. I gotta admit. I like the assignment. --Jim Broede

I'm gonna stay on course.

I'm curious. About so many things. But most of all, I'm curious about life. About why I'm here. If it's just by accident. Or by some grand design. My guess is that it's moreorless by mishap. I just as easily could not have been born. But still, I'd like to find some meaning to my life. To make a difference. Oh, not to have an effect on the world as a whole. But for me to get some satisfaction for having this instant of life. To take advantage of it. And I think I'm doing that. By being a romantic idealist, a free-thinker, a liberal and a lover. I could have chosen so many other paths. I could have been a conservative Republican, a Christian and a gadfly. In other words, wasted my life. At least, I think I was given a free choice. I wasn't compelled to be what I am. And I still have the opportunity to change course. But for the time-being, I'm gonna stay on this course. Especially that of being a lover. --Jim Broede

Doing the right thing.

Care-giver breaks are so very important. When I was a 24/7 care-giver, I was much more likely to occasionally lose it. Because I was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. When I became an 8 to 10 hour a day care-giver, supplementing Jeanne's care daily at the nursing home, I never lost it. Not even once. And that was over a 38-month period. I went home every night at 10, and didn't return until late morning the next day. I had time to recuperate. To recharge my batteries. I learned to exude good vibes. All of the time. Not just parttime. One can't do it all. One needs help. One needs to take care of one's self. Otherwise, you won't be the care-giver that your patient desperately needs. That's not being selfish. It's being sensible. It's doing the right thing. --Jim Broede

The last thing we should be doing.

We don't know how to deal with people with mental illness. Or with any kind of mental affliction. Or dementia. Such as Alzheimer's. We take care of our physically ill patients with great understanding. We treat them kindly. With much compassion. But if our patient has mental problems, we lose patience. We don't accept their behavior. As if they could help themselves. When obviously, they can't. Read the Alzheimer's message boards. You'll find all sorts of care-givers who break down. And take out their hostility on their patients. Often, loved ones. Yes, it's a shock and terribly depressing to witness the mental decline of someone. Much easier to accept the physically ill. Because we can talk and reason with 'em. With an Alzheimer patient we can't do that. We become frustrated by the challenge. And we lose it, so to speak. And that's the last thing we should be doing. --Jim Broede

I wonder why people are so mean?

My quibble is with mean-spirited people. There are too many of 'em in this world. And I challenge them sometimes. Right here in my blog. And when I do, I tend to be mean to 'em. And that probably makes me seem mean. And I am. But my meanness is aimed at the mean. I have no qualms about that. I try to never be mean to people who aren't themselves mean. More often than not, it's selfish people who are the meanest. Sort of like Scrooge. And people in power often tend to be mean. Because they like to exercise power. To control other people. Slave owners, for instance, were mean. Even those who acted kindly to their slaves. The fact that they owned slaves made them mean. And inconsiderate. I think America was founded by some very mean people. They institutionalized slavery. And they tried to make women less equal than men. More meanness. The way that Democrats and Republicans treat each other in Congress. What can be more mean than that? I keep wondering why people are so mean. Especially to each other.--Jim Broede

They've captured my heart again.

Amazing. My Chicago Cubs have won 18 of the 26 games they have played under their new manager Mike Quade. Yes, they've won 10 more games than they've lost. And just before Quade took over, the Cubs had won only five times in 25 games. They were pathetic under manager Lou Piniella. And I put much of the blame on Piniella. He allowed players to just go through the motions. Quade has instilled confidence in the players, particularly in the younger ones. And he's for having fun. That's what one is supposed to do when making a living by playing the game of baseball. Have fun. Earlier this season, the Cubs were just going through the motions. They should have been called the Chicago Zombies, not the Cubs. I like people that enjoy life. That like what they are doing. And savor life to the fullest. Daily. The Cubs will miss the playoffs. But they've captured my heart once again. By playing like they really mean it. --Jim Broede

Learn to dream. Sweet dreams.

Seems to me that loneliness is a state of mind. It doesn't have to be. One has a choice. If you are absorbed in life, and in love with life, I think it's difficult to be lonely. You don't have to allow yourself to be lonely. I don't think I've ever been lonely. Even when Jeanne wasn't the Jeanne she used to be. Or even when Jeanne died. I may have lacked intimate human contact for periods of time. But I wasn't lonely. Maybe because I've always felt that I was in love. With something. I've always found a reason to be happy. Joyful. Blessed. If for no other reason than I'm alive and conscious and aware. And I have a romantic nature. No reason to feel sorry for myself. Yes, I feel blessed. That's the word. And I'm able to sit down and write. To myself. To others. I write a blog. Sort of a public journal. Daily. In that sense, I'm in love with words. With thoughts. I write love letters every night, too. And I'm honest. And candid. With myself. And with others. I respond to others. When I sense they want to talk. When they are searching for meaning in their lives. Well, I tell them, keep searching. That's the beauty of life. The search. The daily search. Put it into words. Like I am doing. But with your own words. And learn to dream. Sweet dreams. --Jim Broede

I want a higher form of being.

If I'm not in it, the world doesn't exist. Before I was born, the world didn't exist. And when I die, quite possibly it will be no more. Because the world exists only in my mind. I perceive it. I can't be certain what the world is. I know there are concepts of what lies here and beyond planet Earth. But it's all speculation. And the type of speculation that is constantly changing. A millenium from now, much of what we believe today will prove to be poppycock. Much of what exists is beyond human comprehension. Always will be. I suspect there are all kinds of life around us that we can't see. Because we lack basic senses --senses found in other higher forms of life. We humans like to think of ourselves as the elite. Certainly the highest form of intelligent life on Earth. But that may not be saying much. Compared to other life that may be thriving elsewhere in this vast cosmos. My hope, of course, is that after one dies, one becomes transformed into another higher form of being. And that this transformation goes on and on. Forever. --Jim Broede

A blessing from the god of love.

I'm an optimist. But I could just as easily have become a pessimist. If I hadn't found love in my life. That made the difference. Love. Of two women, in particular. But even if that hadn't happened, I still fell in love. With nature. With writing. With life, in general. I pity the poor soul that has never experienced love. I suspect most people have experienced love of one kind or another. Even those who say they haven't. They've just been unaware of it. Might be that they lack an understanding. If one can just appreciate one's surroundings and environs. Or savor being alive and conscious. That should be enough in itself to trigger a feeling of elation. Joy. Yes, a form of love. I think one can create love. From within one's being. By allowing one's self to flow. Naturally. I grant that it's probably best to love another human being. But there are so many other things to love. Words, for instance. A poem. Or a piece of music. So many pleasures. Climbing a mountain. Sailing on the sea. Walking in the woods. To be able to do all this. It's a blessing, isn't it? Maybe from the god of love. --Jim Broede

Writing about ego-driven people.

I could have changed my reality. My perception of life. If I had decided to become a sportswriter. I almost did. The first time I was offered a job at the daily St. Paul Pioneer Press, it was as a sportswriter. I said, no thank you. Later, I went to work for the Pioneer Press as a beat writer, mostly covering politics and government. I have no regrets about that. But I do reflect on what might have happened if I had chosen sports as my focus. At the time, I thought it was too shallow. But hey, it could have been enjoyable. A nice pastime. Witing about games. And athletes. Those who make a professional career out of it. It's only a game. But that's the nature of life. I suppose politics is a game, too. A dirty game. With potential to be very corrupting. Maybe that's what I liked about politics. The possibility for expose. The opportunity to focus on behind-the-scenes activity. One thing I would have had to deal with, whether it be in sports or politics, was gigantic egos. I suppose that goes for most any pursuit. To get ahead, many people do it to feed their egos. To excel. To have power. Influence. And celebrity. Many of us are ego-driven. Writers included. I find that fascinating. Dealing with egos day in and day out. My own ego. And others. Come to think of it, maybe that was my speciality over the years. Writing about ego-driven people. --Jim Broede

Democrats need Attila the Hun.

I have a problem with Democrats. They are weak-kneed. They don't know how to make their case. Against Republicans. Democrats don't fight back. Or if they do, it's ineffectively. They don't get downright dirty and mean. Democrats go to war, and they are willing to take prisoners. And call a truce. Republicans go to war, and they kill. Everyone. No prisoners. Republicans are ruthless. Democrats are softies. I guess that's the nature of liberals. They like to smell roses and pick daisies. While Republicans like to come out armed with their AK-47s. Blasting away. They don't care if innocent bystanders get mowed down. Their only motive is to win the battle and win the war. To seize power. Any way they can. No holds barred. I'm for Democrats becoming even more ruthless than Republicans. But it won't happen. Their leaders are the likes of Barack Obama. And even Hillary Clinton. Too nice. Far too nice. The Democrats need Genghis Khan or Attila the Hun. That is, if they really want to put Republicans in their place. --Jim Broede

Where are our spiritual values?

We lack resolve. That's the big problem in America. We lack resolve to solve our problems. Or even to clearly identify our problems. We have become a do-nothing society. Full of obstructionists. We want everybody to fail. Especially the people that are in power and able to do anything about our dire straits. We seem to hate each other. Republicans hate Democrats. And Democrats hate Republicans. We push each other to stalemates. Rather than to solutions. We Americans are walking in place. Going nowhere. I heard former president Jimmy Carter the other night. He said that the rancor in our government is the worst its ever been. Even than it was just before the Civil War. We are a nation divided. Factions pull against each other. So that nothing gets done. We filibuster in the U.S. Senate. Virtually any and everything. We aren't real united Amercans anymore. We are each other's enemies. We were born a racist nation. And we're still racist. Yes, we've been divided right from the beginning. And the divide continues to fester. Many of us can't stand having a black president. We wish him ill. We'd rather our nation fail. Than succeed. Yes, we Americans are sick. Dreadfully sick. We have lost our spiritual values. That is, if we ever had 'em. --Jim Broede

I want to be nice, and ego-centric.

Maybe I am a bit ego-centric. I have to admit liking myself. I like to set an example. Seems to me that far too many people don't like themselves. I have even come across people that hate themselves. They are masochists. Figuring they deserve to be punished. I see it every day. They go on guilt trips. Thinking that they fall short. I often tell them to cool it. To relax. To learn to like themselves. And to fall in love. With life. Even with themselves. Generally, I find someone else to fall in love with. But if I couldn't do that, I could still fall in love with nature and books and music -- and yes, with myself. That's no shame. Because I'm a pretty nice guy. Sure, I can be sarcastic and satirical. But I love doing it. I don't have to be perfectly nice to everyone. Mostly, I want to be nice to people I like and love. That includes me. --Jim Broede

A pleasant and engaging woman.

I'm impressed by Lady Gaga. I haven't paid much attention to her singing. Sort of ignored that. But I'm impressed by her verve. Her willingness to drive 15 hours up to Maine to rally support for the repeal of the military's 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. Trying to shame Maine's two moderate senators into allowing the U.S. Senate to vote on the matter. There's talk that obstructionist, dimwitted Republicans will try to filibuster the legislation. Stopping a clear-cut majority from even voting on it. Anyway, Lady Gaga looks different when she lets her platinum blond hair down off-stage. She also wears big black-rimmed glasses. Looks intellectual. And sounds it, too. And she really seems to care about some of the hot-button political and social issues of the day. I'm not particularly enamored with her singing. But hey, I can take the rest of her. She seems to be a very pleasant and engaging woman. --Jim Broede

I ain't a zombie no more.

I forget about growing old by living one day at a time. Because I don't feel old. That is, at the moment. Today. Now. So I am wrapped up in today. And I feel good. Vibrant. With it. Of course, if I start thinking ahead, to 10 or 20 years from now, I start to imagine myself at 85 or 95. And that can be a little bit scary. A fair chance that I might not even be around to celebrate my birthdays. Or if I am, I may be old and decrepit. But I quickly remind myself. Today is today. Savor it. You feel good. See, I've learned to focus. On the moment. I spent too much of my earlier years out of focus. Out of sync. Worrying about tomorrow. Or just being plain oblivious of the fact that I have the opportunity to be an alive and conscious being. Rather than a zombie going through the motions of being alive. --Jim Broede

I say, give it a try.

I wonder how many people are unhappy. And don't know what to do about it. Maybe that's the key to the problem. Figuring out how to cure unhappiness. I'm assuming that there has to be a solution to virtually every kind of unhappiness. The problem is in the implementation. Or maybe it's just a case of people being unwilling to take the necessary steps to get on the road to happiness. Someone wrote to me the other day. Talked about several things. And casually mentioned being unhappy. But didn't tell me why. So, I've asked. And also, I inquired what are you gonna do about it? I'm awaiting a reply. I suppose it's possible that some people don't even know why they are unhappy. But I suspect that if they sit down and become a little bit analytical, it becomes obvious. That's the first step toward a cure. But then again, maybe they don't wanna be cured. Because unhappiness suits them. But I'm of the mind that we all have a choice. To at least give it a try. That's better than giving up. --Jim Broede

It's a chaotic and absurd world.

My reality isn't the same as many other people's reality. Thank gawd. Because I think we are living in a world of mistaken and contrived realities. Most of us don't have a clue. For instance, we tune in Fox News and listen to the likes of Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh and assume that their rantings are real. That's the reality of the so-called ultra-conservatives. In another age, they would be considered escapees from an insane asylum. Yet, in modern day America, they are part of the political, economic and social power structures. They rule the roost in many respects. Of course, to a sane person, this is a bit frightening. But I'm not frightened. Because I sense that this is a chaotic and absurd world that we live in. I'm used to it. In my reality, I mix with the inmates. And often pretend that I'm one of 'em. --Jim Broede

I have good reason to be happy.

I guess that some people have to work at being happy. Happiness doesn't come naturally for everyone. Maybe they have the genes or the chemicals that make them depressed. I'm fortunate. I have happy genes. And happy hormones. Or so I'm assuming. Because most of my life I've been happy. Maybe I've worked at it. But it doesn't seem like work. More like pleasure. It's like going on a treasure hunt. A happiness hunt. Often, all I need do is look around the corner, and there it is. Happiness staring me in the face. I was born to be reasonably happy. I know one thing. It doesn't feel good to be unhappy. Therefore, I'm motivated to find my way out of the doldrums. It feels like hell. And I want to be in heaven, nirvana, paradise. Yes, in the realm of happiness. Oh, I can't say that I'm happy all the time. Far from it. But I don't linger on unhappiness for very long. I also tend to be attracted to happy people. Positive thinkers. That's why I shun Republicans. They seem so negative. So unhappy. Always complaining about Barack Obama and the Democrats. They are obstructionists. They oppose everything Obama proposes. Even legislation once supported by Republicans. But I don't let that get me down. I'm just happy that Obama is our president. And I'm happy that Republicans are unhappy. --Jim Broede

Too stupid to know better.

The selfish rich. They are the angry people in America. At least that's what economist Paul Krugman is telling us in his column in the New York Times. And I suspect it's true. And that's sad. Because, as Krugman writes, "These are terrible times for many people in this country. Poverty, especially acute poverty, has soared in the economic slump; millions of people have lost their homes. Young people can't find jobs; laid-off 50-somethings fear that they'll never work again. Yet if you want to find political rage -- the kind of rage that makes people compare President Obama to Hitler, or accuse him of treason -- you won't find it among these suffering Americans. You'll find it instead among the very privileged, people who don't have to worry about losing their jobs, their homes, or their health insurance, but who are outraged, outraged, at the thought of paying modestly higher taxes."

Yes, folks, that's what we have in America. The spoiled rich. They don't give a damn for the people living in poverty. They relish in seeing the ever-widening gap between the rich and the poor. They don't want even a slight redistribution in the wealth of this nation. They don't want to see the common good. They want to see only the good that benefits the rich. They want to get richer and richer and richer. At the expense of the poor and the middle classes.

Krugman says that craziness in America has gone mainstream.

"It's one thing," he writes, "when a billionaire rants at a dinner event. It's another when Forbes magazine runs a cover story alleging that the president of the United States is deliberately trying to bring America down as part of his Kenyan 'anti-colonialist' agenda, that 'the U.S. is being ruled according to the dreams of a Luo tribesman of the 1950s.' When it comes to defending the interests of the rich, it seems, the normal rules of civilized (and rational) discourse no longer apply."

Yes, Krugman concludes, self-pity among the privilegd has become acceptable, even fashionable.

"And when the tax fight is over, one way or another, you can be sure that the people currently defending the incomes of the elite will go back to demanding cuts in social security and aid to the unemployed," Krugman said. America must make hard choices, they'll say, we all have to be willing to make sacrifices. But when they say 'we,' they mean 'you.' Sacrifice is for the little people."

And just think. We're letting it happen. We'll return power this fall to the Republicans, the party of the rich. And we poor and middle class people will see to it. With our votes. We've been conned. Duped. We're too stupid to know better. --Jim Broede

Shame on us.

I'll tell you what the Republican hierarchy and many white Americans can't stand. The fact that we have a black president. It gnaws at their guts. These racists. Oh, you won't ever get 'em to admit that they are racists. But it's obvious. With their little hidden hatred of Barack Obama. They think of themselves and white people in general as far superior to blacks. They are annoyed because Obama refuses to take his seat at the back of the bus. He isn't humble enough to suit white racists. They slur Obama. Call him a no-good socialist. An Islamic sympathizer. They say he's not even an American citizen. That he was foreign born. They tell one lie after another. Oh, these fuming racists go to sleep at night grinding their teeth. They're so damn mad. So angry. A black man in the White House. They never thought they'd see such a day. It infuriates 'em. They'd like to see the return of the Ku Klux Klan. And a burning of a cross on the White House lawn. They'd like to lynch Obama. And bring back Jim Crow. Yes, these racists are the scourge of America. Makes us seem uncivilized. Petty bigots. Sometimes, it makes me ashamed to be an American. Certainly would if this motley crew ever becomes the majority. And seizes power. --Jim Broede

I've avoided the family curse.

I wonder if one can talk one's self out of depression. I think so. I'm an advocate of talk therapy. Moreso than drug therapy. Albeit, the two combined may work wonders. But even talk therapy. Alone. Can do it. At least with some people. It's worth a try. I'm not sure what it means to be in depression. Especially deep depression. Because to the best of my knowledge, I've never been there. I've been disconsolate. Sad. But I assume never clinically depressed. Because I talk to myself. I talk my way out of sadness. And find a way to becone happy again. Or at least not sad. Maybe I'm one of the lucky ones. I may not have a disposition for depression. I even hate the thought of being depressed. I don't even want to go there. So I build barriers. Mental barriers. And maybe I have the right combination of natural hormones and chemicals in my system. If so, thank gawd. My mother was depressed. Particularly in the last 20 years of her 88-year life. I assume my father was depressed. After all, he committed suicide when he was 38. And my brother was depressed. And my sister has spent much of her life in depression. So it would seem that I come from a family of depressed people. Why have I escaped the curse? Or will it catch up with me some day? I can imagine if I were dying a slow and lingering and painful death, I'd be a bit depressed. I'd even consider suicide. Maybe so I wouldn't have to live with depression. Maybe that's what my father did. Anyway, here I am at age 75. And I've avoided the Broede family curse. Depression. --Jim Broede

I find a way.

I've survived every sadness and disappointment in my life. The death of my mother, my father, my brother, my dear sweet Jeanne. And I'm still happy as a lark. I despise many American politicians. I'm no fan of the capitalist system. And my Chicago Cubs haven't won a World Series in 102 years. But still, I have no serious complaints about life. I'm happy. Even when I am in the depth of despair over events, I tell myself, give it time. I do. And I ultimately become happy again. Yes, sooner or later, happiness is like cream. It comes to the top. And the sadness is buried below. Beneath the surface. And life becomes far more than tolerable and bearable. It becomes wonderful. Because I find a way. To fall in love again. With someone. With life. --Jim Broede

God's way of easing his conscience.

I can't believe that we humans are one of the higher forms of life created by god. At best, maybe we are one of god's failed attempts. And god learned from his mistakes. But he still allowed us to flourish on planet Earth. And elsewhere in the universe, god did better. Much better. I suspect god knew he was gonna make some tragic and shameful mistakes. Maybe that's why he first created a universe with billions of galaxies and most likely billions of inhabitable planets. That way he could hide his most grievious mistake in a far-flung outreach of the cosmos. Earth, for instance, is sort of on the edge of the Milky Way galaxy. Far off the beaten track. So hardly anyone knows of god's disgraceful Frankensteinian experiment called humankind. I suppose god could have destroyed us, and pretended we never existed. Instead, he left the dirty work up to us. We are gonna find a way to destroy ourselves. Maybe that will ease god's conscience and wipe his slate clean. --Jim Broede

We've forgotten so very much.

I can't ever fully recapture my past. Not that I'd want to. Much of my past I can't even remember. I heard a brain specialist the other night speculate that we retain only a relatively small percentage of our experience. For instance, a genius such as Einstein maybe retained 14 percent. So I suppose at least 90 percent of my experience is lost and gone forever. Maybe even 99 percent. So my recollections are vague. And I don't even have Alzheimer's. Little wonder that we humans are stupid. Because we are so forgetful. We don't learn nearly enough from experience. Therefore, we keep making the same mistakes over and over. Some of us even keep voting Republican. We forget what George Bush and the neo-conservatives did to us. Wrecked the economy. Got many of us killed and maimed in senseless wars. Allowed our nation's infrastructure to deteriorate and to, in some cases, literally disintegrate. Put some 40 million of us into abject poverty. And hordes of us without jobs. Pretty disgraceful situation, isn't it? But already we've forgotten that we are living in misery. --Jim Broede

Loverboy gleefully does his job.

I have good rapport with my male cat, Loverboy. We understand each other. Loverboy knows when to be totally loving. And when to be not so loving. With me, Loverboy is supposed to display a good disposition. Always. With mice, he's to turn into a unrepentent killer. I don't care if it's a cute little baby mouse or a full-grown adult mouse. They are not welcome to reside in our abode. Loverboy sees to it. Pronto. If he sniffs the presence of a mouse, he goes on high alert. Round-the-clock. Until the mouse becomes clamped in his lethal jaws. I know when a mouse has sneaked into the house. Loverboy becomes vigilant. If necessary, he'll forsake sleep. And stay up for a full 24 hours. Until there's a dead mouse. My rapport isn't as good with my female cat, Chenuska. She's fat and lazy. A mouse could crawl right over her and she'd not bother. She's indifferent. Maybe it's a live-and-let-live attitude. But I find that hard to tolerate. I want mice to stay in their place. Outside the house. But I've learned to tolerate Chenuska's laziness. Only because Loverboy gleefully does the work of two cats. --Jim Broede

I slam some, and love others.

I don't mind slamming people that tend to slam other people. To be just as hard on them as they are hard and unfair to other people. Doesn't bother my conscience, for instance, to slam Republicans. Especially those on the far right. Seems to me that they are mean-spirited. So I'm often sarcastic with them. They deserve it. Of course, my mother tried to teach me to be nice to everyone. But I find that difficult. And Jesus tells me I'm supposed to love my enemies. And to even turn the other cheek. But once again, I find that impossible on occasion. No matter how hard I try. Albeit, I think I'm more tolerant and accepting than most others. At least, I'm not hateful. Sarcastic, yes. But not hateful. I'm opinionated. And judgmental to a degree. About Republicans. Again, because they are so judgmental. I like to treat people the way they treat other people. Despicably in some cases. I treat the vast majority of people very nicely. Politely. Courteously. And several special people I treat very lovingly. I wouldn't even dream of slamming them. --Jim Broede

Only certified idiots are welcome.

We all have the inalienable right to be idiots. That's the new credo of the USA. Of the American dream. Republicans have declared it. All one has to do is join the new Republican Party. That's proof of idiocy. Of being a real American. A patriot. The party is being cleansed of all dissenters. Of moderates. Of people that think for themselves. Of people with half a brain. The new Republican Party doesn't even want imbeciles or morons. Because they are too intelligent for their own good. Only idiots can qualify for membership. One has to be dumber than dumb. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? But listen carefully to the babble. That's what it comes down to. You must be a certified idiot to be welcomed into the Republican Party. --Jim Broede

All it takes to be a socialist.

Imagine being afraid of an idea. That's the nature of conservatism. In the Republican Party. In the Tea Party. They're frightened of socialism. Their bug-a-boo. Creeping socialism. They look for it under their beds when they go to sleep at night. They even think that the president of the United States is a secret socialist. Evil. Yes, evil and socialism are one and the same. The work of the devil. The would-be maker of a welfare state. They abhor Swedes. Because Swedes have been smitten by socialism. From their perspective, the Swedes are no longer free. They are captives of socialism. And heaven forbid. If we allow for socialized medicine, we will have death panels. Committees that decide whether we live or die. When really, that option should be left entirely to private insurance companies. Government has no business telling you what to do. Except when it comes to abortion. Then it's all right for government to tell you that all life is precious. That even if a woman is raped and the victim of incest, and becomes pregnant, she must allow the baby to be born. But that ain't socialism. Because it's part of the approved agenda. Socialism is defined as whatever seems unfit. In the mind of a conservative Republican. I'm a socialist. Because I'm not a Republican. That's all it takes to be a socialist. --Jim Broede

Making love solely with words.

Obviously, I like to talk. And write. Particularly to a loved one. But I'm also a good listener. I'm a real believer in openness. In candidness. Often I like to think out loud. In the presence of a loved one. Or in a letter. I just sit down and write. Sometimes without any forethought. I just ramble. I think that comes naturally. For me. When I am in love. I could write a book. Create characters. That talk and talk and talk. Imagine life without words. That would be horrible. Then I wouldn't be able to talk. Maybe I could make noises. Maybe that's how talk/language was invented. By making meaningful noises. I like to talk especially to my sweet love. Sometimes she may think I'll never shut up. And wish for silence. And that's fine. I like silence, too. But sometimes I can't stand silence. So I talk. Make noises. Not all talk is meaningful. It's babble. Much of political talk is babble. And small talk. It can be meaningless. Meant just to fill up empty space. But I do love words. Even words without meaning. I like the sound of words. Some words sound like music. My favorite words are the words that convey love. I think it's possible to make love. Solely with words. --Jim Broede

Space aliens, please take me.

If space aliens landed on Earth, I'd volunteer to go with them. To wherever. Maybe back to where they came from. I wouldn't be afraid. Because I assume they must come from a far more advanced civilization than ours. Of course, they may think of me and other earthlings as a lower form of life. Maybe the same way we enlightened humans think of a jackass or a Republican. Anyway, I figure I'd have nothing to lose by trying to ingratiate myself with the aliens. Maybe we could communicate. And I could learn something. But if I didn't, I'd still think of the experience as an adventure. And I'd be happy. Knowing there's a higher form of life in the universe. --Jim Broede

In a gas chamber.

I'm not so sure that I want people who are pure. Especially in the realm of politics. Yes, candidates on the far right are advocating purity. They want everybody to be just like themselves. Which means meeting their standards of purity. That reminds me of fella named Hitler. He wanted purity, too. He thought of the Aryan race as superior. As pure. And he wanted everybody to march in goose-step. I've noticed similarities on the American political far right. Let's declare America uber alles. Above all else. Let's meet the prescribed high standards. And march in lock-step. Let us be pure. And racially, that means white. White as one can be. Not black. Not brown. Not Hispanic. Not Asian. And most likely, Christian. Certainly not Islamic. Those on the far right don't like the mixing of race. They want purity. Purity of principle. Purity of political ideology. Even purity of flesh. They'd rather lose an election rather than sacrifice their idealized concepts of purity. They aren't about to compromise. To trade off. In order to get a part of their agenda accomplished. They want it all. The whole caboodle. You are either with 'em, or against 'em. There's no middle ground. They are extremists. Sort of like Islamic terrorists. But the two of 'em together, and you'll have a holy take-no-prisoners war. These extremists on both sides aren't lovers. They are haters. A lover loves unconditionally. Avoids becoming judgmental. Even embraces his/her enemy. I suppose that's pure love. Purity of heart at its best. Well, this other kind of political purity seems more like the love one would get from Hitler. In a gas chamber. --Jim Broede

Be wary of a newt.

I suspect that if you are a gingrich, you are a newt. They are one and the same. I'd say that either term could be used to define a blubbering idiot. A newt, for instance, would think that the spirit of Barack Obama's father lives inside the son. And that spirit corrupts him. Makes him an 'anti-colonial Kenyan.' Whatever that means. Maybe a socialist. Someone to be abhorred. A newt/gingrich declared that Obama "is a person who is fundamentally out of touch with how the world works, who happened to have played a wonderful con, as a result of which he is now president. I think he worked very hard at being a person who is normal, reasonable, moderate, bipartisan, transparent, accommodating -- none of which was true." Makes me wonder if a newt or a gingrich or a combination of the two is totally insane. Totally out of touch with reality. --Jim Broede

To make sense of my life.

I have so very many thoughts on my mind. But generally, only one thought at a time. Which means that I discard thoughts. File them away. In places where it's difficult to find or retrieve them. I'm wondering if I'm running out of storage space. Between my two ears. Maybe that happens when we get older. I wonder, if in essence, that's the nature of Alzheimer's Disease. Or if some of us are just plain too full of thoughts. I love to think. To be aware. Of something. In the moment. Now. Always a thought on my mind. I'm thinking when I go to sleep at night. And I'm still thinking when I wake in the morning. And maybe I'm thinking even when I'm asleep. After all, I have dreams. Probably even unconscious dreams. Ones that I can't seem to recall. Because I have filed away millions of thoughts. And I wish I had a way of organizing everything. Piecing my thoughts together. To make sense of my life. --Jim Broede

Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.

I'm naturally inquisitive. Curious. I feel compelled to ask people questions. Even strangers. Right off the bat. Often, I ask rather personal questions. I'd like people to take my curiosity as a compliment. Sensing that I want to know stuff about them. I'm interested in 'em. And it's a good way to cultivate a meaningful conversation. With a bit more than small talk. I like to get some idea of what makes a person tick. And I want to know something memorable, even about a stranger. When I introduce myself in a seminary class or a graduate school class, I try to define myself right off the bat. I want to create a positive impression. And single out that I'm not ordinary. I don't want to be ordinary. I'm different. And I want everyone to know it. And in a sense, I think everyone is different. Unique in his/her own way. And so I want people to tell me. How they are different. Unique. --Jim Broede

Returning to hell. Forevermore.

Let's hope that the pattern of life is a straight line rather than circular. If it's straight, there's no turning back. We don't get to do things over and over again. If it's circular, we keep coming back. So-called eternal recurrence. In which case we make the same mistakes over and over again. That would be the definition of pure hell. The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche imagined it. And maybe that's what drove him crazy. Unfortunately, I suspect that life was designed to be in circular motion. For instance, here in America we had eight horrid years of George Bush and rule by lunatic Republicans. That was followed by Barack Obama and the Democrats trying doggedly to bail us out of the horrific fiscal and political mess caused by Republicans. But now it's looking like Republicans may regain power after only two years of Obama and the Democrats. If that happens, we will have come full circle. Back where we started from. Stuck with Republicans bent on destruction of the USA. We'll be making the same mistakes. Instead of proceeding along a straight line and moving on to something new and enlightening. If life moved on a straight line, we might reach Paradise some day. But by going in a circle, we keep returning to hell. Forevermore. --Jim Broede

Gives us the likes of Hlin and Sigi.

Looked for a while like we'd have to sleep in the car. We didn't have reservations in Reykjavik, Iceland's capitol city. Every hotel and bed and breakfast place seemed to be full. Apparently, there was a convention in town. And no room to spare. Finally, my girlfriend spied a listing for Forsaela Apartments. And sure enough, there was a vacancy. For a furnished apartment. We were desparate, and I didn't even inquire about the price. We took it. And it was wonderful. A living room. A kitchen. And a bedroom in a loft. With a king-sized bed. And magnificently furnished. And the cost was even less than for some of our hotel rooms. But best of all were the owners, Hlin and Sigi. Real Icelanders. And Hlin was well-traveled. She had lived 12 years in Italy. And spoke fluent Italian. And my girlfriend is Italian. So it was almost like Italy in Iceland. We spent the final days of our three-week stay in Iceland at Forsaela. And when we return some day, that's where we'll stay again. That will be our home base. In fact, no matter where we go. Whether it be to Prague or Budapest or Vienna. We'll settle for nothing less than furnished apartments. Makes so much sense. Especially if the owners are the likes of Hlin and Sigi. --Jim Broede

I'd rather ride a bicycle.

I'm getting a feel for the best of the marathon runners. I'd have trouble keeping up with them on my bicycle. They'd probably beat me. Even if I had the advantage of doing the marathon on a bicycle. That's amazing. That a human being can run 26.2 miles in a little over two hours. I go about 10 miles an hour on my bicycle. Marathon runners go about 12 miles an hour. On foot. A mile in about 5 minutes. I used to think about running marathons. But thought better of it. I'm addicted to exercise. But not to marathons. Other than in thought. And on a bicycle. --Jim Broede

I'm used to the fog.

I live in a fog. In that I don't see things clearly. Takes me a long time to figure things out. Here I am. Just turned 75. And I still haven't penetrated the fog. I'm still in a formative stage. Don't know what to make of the world. I come to some conclusions. But can't be sure of anything. So everything is temporary. In a state of flux. Other than the fact that I'm in love. That I know. For sure. How I came about finding love -- well, I'm not sure. It just happened. I wasn't looking. And even if I were, I probably would not have seen it coming. Because of the thick fog. Meanwhile, I'm amazed at how many people seem to see clearly. Despite the fog. They have everything figured out. They have systems. A system of economics and politics and social matters. Everything fits into neat little packages. But I don't believe in neat little boxes. They are illusions. For people who want certainty in their lives. I don't need certainty. I don't even need clarity. Maybe that's because I'm used to the fog. --Jim Broede

When tomorrow becomes now.

Funny thing. I want security. A feeling that I am safe. But that's only when I think of tomorrow. The future. If I'm focused just on living today, then I don't worry about safety. Or worry much about anything. Because I am totally immersed in living today. In the moment. I have to resist getting ahead of myself. When I project ahead, I inevitably see trouble. An obstacle. A reason to fret. Or to fear. To become apprehensive. But I'm all right again once I remind myself that I'm living in the now. Always am. I'm never really living in the past or the future. I'm always in the now. So it's ridiculous to try to project myself into the future. It's impossible. Oh, I can imagine the future. But when I'm imagining it, I'm still in the now. I'm never living in the future. People tell me that I should prepare for the future. To think ahead. To set aside a nest egg, for instance. Or to prepare for my death. And I suppose I do. Because I give it some thought. But for the most part, I'm consumed by living today. And I don't deal with tomorrow until tomorow. When tomorrow becomes now. --Jim Broede

The rich can afford higher taxes.

It was refreshing to hear John Boehner say he would vote for a tax cut for the middle class even if it was not extended to the rich, the New York Times declared today in an editorial. But not a single G.O.P. leader has backed him. Which is sad. We need to cut the huge budget deficit. And one way of putting a significant dent in the deficit is to ask each millionaire to kick in an additional $100,000 or so in taxes. They can afford it. It would bring $700 billion a year into the federal coffers. --Jim Broede

I need just as much time as god.

I'm a writer. My kind of writer. I write about life. About my life. Because I'm close to it. I see it from inside my being. But I also write about others. The people I encounter. My close friends. My lover. Maybe more about myself than others. Because I like to respect their privacy. To a greater extent than I protect my own privacy. I think of my life as an open book. Revealing. I'm not afraid to hide anything. Just to be me. To even expose myself. As a fool. I allow myself to think out loud. Even before a thought is fully formed. I like the formation process. Becoming what I am. And seeing how it happened. Often, just by chance. The ways I fell in love. And cultivated that love. I could have just let it pass by. But there was an inner compulsion. To make me a romantic idealist, a free thinker, a liberal and a lover. And I know there's more to come. I'm still in the formative stage. Really, to truly become me, I need forever. I need just as much time as god. --Jim Broede

To awareness.

I'm determined. I'm gonna spend life living in two places. In America. And Italy. I'll split my time. Initially, more time in America than Italy. A back-and-forth life makes me appreciate both places. And I'll spend time in Germany, too. I've spent time in Scotland. And Iceland. It's nice to see the world. And mix in other cultures. Makes me feel more alive. I'd like to be a citizen of the world. Now, if only I could speak fluent Italian and fluent German. That's my one regret in life. That I didn't learn to speak several languages. Of course, I still have time. As long as I'm alive and kicking. So much I want to do. Wish there really was a 36-hour day. But then again, I don't wanna become too efficient. I want to take life at a leisurely pace. Savoring it all. I'm 75 now. And that's a blessing. That I've lived this long. My gawd, think of what I'd have missed. If I had died at 40 or 50 or 60 or 70. Every day, I become more aware that life was meant to be lived. In my younger days, I went through the motions. I wasted too much time. But maybe not. I gained life experience. The kind that brought me to today. To awareness. --Jim Broede

How losers become winners.

My Chicago Bears football team has to be lucky to make the playoffs this season. That's the only way. The Bears don't have the requisite talent. In Sunday's season opener, the Bears defeated the Detroit Lions, 19-14. It was a battle between two pathetic teams. And the Bears lucked out. Looked for a moment like Detroit had pulled out the game in the last 24 seconds. With a touchdown pass in the end zone. But the officials in the broadcast booth overuled the call, claiming that the receiver dropped the ball. When he clearly didn't. Who am I to complain about that? The Bears are willing to take a win anyway they can get it. Even if it's undeserved. Heck, that's the nature of life. That's how losers become winners. --Jim Broede

Away from Piazza Matteotti.

I long thought that living on a piazza in Italy would be ideal. Oh, so romantic. I have been to piazzas, and I was enthralled. By the scenery. The architecture. The aura of a gathering place. My Italian girlfriend lives on a piazza. But she doesn't recommend it. A piazza is a nice place to visit. And to have dinner. Outdoors. To the accompaniment of strolling musicians. But my girlfriend is moving. A few blocks away. In search of tranquility. She's often kept awake until 1 in the morning. By the noise. She's been spoiled. By coming to Minnesota in the summer. To live in peace and quiet. Nothing louder than the call of a loon from off the lake. Beats the sound of karaoke, she says. Anyway, I'll be with her this winter. In Italy. And we're agreed. We'll catch our sleep. Away from Piazza Matteotti. --Jim Broede

If god lives forever, why not me?

I'm just feeling my way through life. Half the time I don't know what I'm doing. But there's something nice about that. Makes life a bit of an adventure. Because I have no idea what's coming next. Maybe there's a surprise around the corner. I had no idea after Jeanne died that I'd find another love. That was the remotest thought from my mind. I thought I'd never be able to love again. That I was too old and worn out for another romance. But then, I've always just let life evolve. What happens, happens. As if fated. Seems to me I'm living a storied life. Almost as if it's written. There's a beginning, a middle and an end. And I'm in no hurry to get to the end. I'd just as soon that the story went on forever. Maybe it will. Even when I die. I'll just end up in another dimension. And my life will be an unending story. If god can live forever, why not me? Shouldn't I be given the same opportunity as god? I certainly can imagine living forever. I doubt that I'd ever get tired of life. Anyway, when I'm tired, I go to bed. I go to sleep. And when I wake, I feel rested and ready for another day. Of surprises. Or whatever comes. --Jim Broede

The quest for power at any cost.

I'm not sure that I really care what people think about me. I understand that I'm perceived of in many different ways. Good ways. Bad ways. Some people actually despise me. And I have to admit that sometimes makes me feel good. For instance, if a Republican despised me, I'd wear that as a badge of honor. I don't want to be liked by Republicans. And lots of other people, too. On the other hand, I can tolerate some Republicans. And even like some. But I don't necessarily want them to like me. Because I can be rather caustic. Unpleasant. Snide. Sarcastic. I've said it before. And I'll say it again. I intentionally try to alienate some people. I don't want to be nice to everyone. Especially to people who tend not to be so nice themselves. American politicians, for instance, tend to be downright discourteous and hateful of those on the other side of the aisle. They tell lies and disparage each other. It wasn't always that way. Decades ago, Republicans and Democarts mixed socially. They showed some degree of respect for each other. Now, it's often unrestrained hostility. I sense that we don't pull for each other to succeed any more. Instead, we want each other to fail. Take Republicans, for instance. They'll oppose programs proposed by Barack Obama -- some of the very same programs that Republicans used to support. But they want Obama to fail. Even if that failure isn't good for the nation. Such failure might bring the Republicans back to power. Yes, that's the crux of life. The quest for power at any cost. --Jim Broede

No need to wait til tomorrow.

I'm thinking today that I am in Paradise. No matter where I am at in the physical world. The moment that I turn inward. And reflect on the wonders of being alive and conscious and curious. And that I have been blessed. With the bonuses of a long and healthy life. Able to move about. Footloose and fancy free. But best of all is to have experienced true love. Wonderful love. Unconditional love. And I have been to mountain tops and to seasides and to meadows overflowing with wild flowers and to exotic cities. And I sense that the best is yet to come. Because every day, life gets better and better and better. Maybe it's because I have learned to turn inward. And to enter new dimensions I never knew existed before. And all I have to do is savor it all. Now. I don't have to wait until tomorrow. --Jim Broede

We need more human decency.

America is hopeless. Because we shift from Republicans to Democrats and then back to Republicans again. We are a nation given only two choices. Republicans or Democrats. Or maybe with a so-called Independent thrown in. Occasionally. But even the independents are forced to canvas with the Republicans or Democrats. Ain't really such a thing as an independent. The Republicans use an elephant as their model or mascot. The Democrats, a donkey. Appropriate. Because they just plod along. I happen to think of the albatross as a more appropriate mascot. Hanging around our necks. I'd like to take a hydrogen bomb or a bubonic plague and wipe out every last Republican and Democrat. And start building a political system from scratch. Maybe I wouldn't even call it politics anymore. I'd aim for something called a system of human decency. Until then, we will remain on the path to hopelessness. --Jim Broede

The land of the selfish.

Nobody is putting people back to work. Not the Democrats. Not the Republicans. Not the Tea Party. Nobody seems to care. Nobody wants to take the bull by the horns and wrestle with it. And solve our nation's terrible economic problems. Mainly, it's that we have so many, many jobless people. Oh, we could solve the problem. By creating jobs. Enough jobs to put everyone back to work again. Private sector jobs. Public sector jobs. But we ain't gonna do it because we Americans have lost our sense of humanity. We don't do the right thing. Because it'll cost too much money. We'd have to tax the rich. More and more. Maybe the middle class, too. It would take a sacrifice equal to the sacrifice we Americans made to win World War II. But we ain't up to it. Because we are a nation of selfish people. Only looking out for our individual selves. Rather than for the common good. The 'haves' want to keep what they've got. And they want more. They don't give a damn for the 'have-nots.' So we'll keep allowing the rich to become richer. And the poor to become poorer. That's the new grand tradition of America. Not the land of the free anymore. But the land of the selfish. --Jim Broede

How I find consolation on 9/11.

I hate sharing my birthday with what's become known as the 9/11 event. When I celebrate my birth, I try not to tune in to the news media. Because I'm reminded that it's the day of infamy. Used to be on Dec. 7, the day the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor. And 9/11 was just another day. But the Islamic terrorists have changed all that. Infamy is now solidly emblazoned on the calendar. On 9/11. No escaping it. Albeit, somewhere on Earth, it must have been the day before or the day after 9/11. Just one of those things. But I find consolation. Some pretty nifty writers were born on 9/11. Namely, O. Henry and D. H. Lawrence. And I have a friend in Germany, Dieter Quittkat. He was born on 9/11, too. --Jim Broede

I don't wanna Republican mayor.

The lawn signs are proliferating. With names of candidates for mayor. And city council. And county attorney. Many of the names are familiar. It's pretty much the same people that keep running for local offices. And I'm wondering what motivates them. I'm sure it's far less than 1 percent of the population that even thinks about running for elected office. And maybe it's that less than 1 percent that's least qualified. In my opinion, the people who don't want to hold public office are the ones that would be the best. Because they probably wouldn't play politics. They'd play it straight. And serve the common good. I have written about local politics almost all of my life. I know local politicians. Intimately. And many of 'em are ego-driven. Many look at local office as a stepping stone to something higher. To the realm of state or even national politics. It really salves their egos to get elected. Time and again. And it deflates their egos when they are rejected. Oh, I've known so many politicians with inflated egos. They know how to say and do the right things. To get elected. They learn how to play the political game. And that's what it is. A game to be mastered. To have political clout. Power. Influence. To be a wheeler-dealer. The current mayor lives down the street from me. And now I see that my neighbor up the road is running against him for mayor. I won't vote for her. Because she's a Republican. Oh, it's supposed to be a non-partisan election. But a Republican is a Republican. And she wouldn't hesitate knifing me in the back. Because I'm not a Republican. I'm viewed as a wild-eyed radical. Because I support Barack Obama. And I've been called a socialist and a communist. And worse. --Jim Broede

The dream is real. So very real.

I got up this morning. And reminded myself that I like being alive. My girlfriend has been away. In Oberhausen. In Germany. Where she was a judge in an English writing contest. She'll be back in Italy later today. And I'll connect with her. On Skype. An audio-video hook up. We connect on Skype every day. When she's at home. Telephoned her in Oberhausen the last two nights. I expect to start living with her in winters. For a month or two. In Italy. And then she'll join me in Minnesota for the summer. And inbetween, we'll connect in exotic cities. Like we did recently. In Iceland. And Germany. Let me tell you. This is the good life. I'm turning 75 today. Yes, on 9/11. I'm so happy that I've lived this long. In good health. And in love. Hard for me to remember when I wasn't in love. With Jeanne. We spent 38 years together. Until Jeanne died of complications from Alzheimer's. Several years ago. I'm still in love with Jeanne's spirit. But I'm also in love with a real live human being. Savoring life. Trying to live to the fullest. I'm beginning to think that's the only way to live. It's as if I'm living a dream. That I'm a romantic idealist, a free-thinker, a liberal and a lover. You know what? The dream is real. So very real. --Jim Broede

Maybe we're all a piece of god.

I think it's relatively easy believing in god. Because it's difficult, if not impossible, to define god. God can be almost anything. God doesn't even necessarily have to be a being. God can just be an abstract concept. For all I know, god may be several things. Maybe there can be many gods. Not just a single god. I'll keep an open mind. I think I believe in god because I want to believe in god. If i didn't want to believe in god I'd call myself an atheist. But I'm a romantic. And it makes sense for a romantic to believe in god. Quite possibly a god of love. I think of my true love as my conduit to god. It's easier believing in god when one is in love. With another being. Or just with life itself. In my religion class in college, I disputed the existence of god. Because I wanted absolute proof. But that was stupid of me. I don't need proof. Because I can believe anything I want. Without proof. Just on the basis of faith. I suspect that god disapproves of organized religion. God would prefer that everyone go their individual way. I doubt that god has prescribed rules for us to follow. God probably just wants us to feel our way. And to try to make sense of what's going on around us. Maybe life itself is god. And we are all part of life. So that would make all of us a piece of god. --Jim Broede

The right to decide what is right.

I've always had a strong sense of right and wrong. Even when I was a kid. And I usually did what was right. In my mind. That didn't necessarily mean it was right. It was my perception of right. And on reflection, I've been wrong on numerous occasions. That's why I don't take a holier-than-thou attitude. Because upon reflection, I'm not so certain there are any absolute rights and wrongs. It comes down to individual choice. And I suspect that's the way god meant it to be. What's right for one being may be wrong for another. That's why we are supposed to be relatively non-judgmental. Of course, I am judgmental. Too often. I have great disdain for Republicans, for instance. Especially those from the lunatic fringe of the party. Maybe the irony of it all is that I probably started out life as a Republican. I leaned Republican when I was a teen-ager. I was sort of a super patriot. I thought my country could do no wrong. I was stupid. Now I see myself as enlightened. But maybe not, I concede. Give me another 20 years and I may have radically different ideas about right and wrong. I just do what I think is right at the moment. But I'm in a state of flux. My opinions and outlooks change. I'm constantly learning. And I don't hesitate to let people know what's on my mind. I may challenge their stances and opinions. And maybe even poke fun at 'em. But I respect their right to decide what is right -- for them, that is. Not for me. --Jim Broede

Thank gawd, I can still dream.

I'm not so sure that I like living in the Information Age. There's too much information. Much of it bullshit. I'd rather live as my ancestors did. In and around the tiny village of Kashofen, in the German Palantine. Neighbors knew each other. But contact didn't go much beyond that. Even before that, my ancestors were hidden away in the Swiss Alps. Sure, they had to eek out a living. Maybe at times pretty much hand to mouth. But they weren't burdened by world events. Depressing stuff. Like some wild-eyed Christian clergyman burning 200 copies of the Islamic Koran. Sure, the world has always been full of idiots. Assholes. But my ancestors knew only of the idiots and assholes in their immediate environs. And they could choose to ignore 'em. They didn't do any harm, really. Because idiots of the day moreorless talked to themselves. Their antics didn't get reported worldwide. Now every idiot has an outlet. A forum. Because of a 24-hour news cycle. We keep reporting what's happening in the world. Even the crap. The bullshit. The rantings of crazy people. We are subjected to a constant drone of babble. We no longer have the luxury of silence. Oh, for the days when we didn't have television or radio or newspapers or, for that matter, the Internet. We were able to live in isolation. In our little hovels. Yes, we were able to live in cocoons. In relative peace and quiet. Now there's virtually no escaping the bombardment of information. Much of it useless information. And depressing information. I hear Republicans. And Democrats. The same idiotic rhetoric every day. Unceasingly. Even when I wear earplugs. The sound comes through. Because it's so loud. Only when I sleep and drift off to Paradise do I get a break. A welcome relief. Oh, yes, I may be living in a dream. In Paradise. But thank gawd, I can still dream. It's my salvation. --Jim Broede

We're fascinated by freaks.

America has become a freak show. Freaks abound. And they get all kinds of publicity. Because they are freaks. Like that preacher in Florida. The one that wants to burn copies of the Koran. We know about him because TV and radio and newspapers focus attention on him. He's got a congregation of 50 members. He's a nothing. A lunatic. An asshole. But he's getting national and international attention. We're making him a celebrity. Solely because he's a freak. A good case could be made that he's insane. Just as insane as Michele Bachmann, my congresswoman. She got elected because she's a freak. She's become known nationally because she's irrational. A blubbering idiot. But that catches attention. Because she walks in the halls of Congress. We Americans like freaks. Unusual people. Escapees from an asylum. Because they're entertaining. We go to circuses to see the fat lady. Or the lady with the long beard. Or excessive tatoos. Freaks. We're fascinated by freaks. --Jim Broede

The best decision of my life.

I'm happy that I didn't marry any of the women I was dating in my 20s. It would have been a disaster. A failed marriage. I wasn't ready for those women. And they weren't ready for me. Most of 'em were younger than me. It wasn't until I came across Jeanne. A woman 9 years older than me. Divorced. And with two kids. And three dogs. Finally, I knew I had found the right woman. Totally unexpected. Never dreamed that I'd marry a woman like Jeanne. But I knew instinctively that she was right for me. And I was right for her. Proved to be the best decision of my life. We were married for 38 years. Until Jeanne died of Alzheimer's. --Jim Broede

Just as good as being married.

It's sad that marriages break up. Makes me wonder if people ever really get to know each other. Instead of balancing each other and becoming whole, they divide. And go their own ways. Separate. Happens all the time, doesn't it? Half of marriages end in divorce. I suspect it's lack of communication. Lack of romantic impulses. Lack of true love. Yes, even lack of craziness. That's what real love takes. Insanity. But a nice kind of insanity. I've had one marriage. A good marriage. Ended after 38 years in the death of my beloved Jeanne. But that ain't stopping me from the pursuit of love. I don't know if I'll ever get married again. But I'll tell you one thing. I'm in love again. And it's just as good as being married. --Jim Broede

We end up losers. All the time.

It's a hard choice sometimes. Choosing between lunatic Republicans and gutless Democrats. Makes me want to vote for Ralph Nader or even a communist. Anything would be better than the choices I have on the ballot. Usually decrepit politicians controlled by the big-money interests. I'm sickened by it all. Democrats in Congress are distancing themselves from President Barack Obama's push to let taxes rise for the wealthiest Americans, fearing it will further harm them in November's mid-term elections. In other words, we're gonna continue to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. Widening the gap between the rich and the poor. That's the American way. Because in America we are ruled by lunatic Republicans and gutless Democrats. There's no winning. We middle class and poor Americans end up being losers. All the time. --Jim Broede

Life is good, I tell my friend.

There comes a point when there's no differentiation between good and bad, I told a friend today. Like a suicide. for instance. One can see it both ways. Good and bad. Take your choice. Dying or not dying. Take your choice. And the way one dies. Take your choice. Dying of Alzheimer's or cancer. Maybe one particular way is more merciful than another. I don't know. One ultimately has to accept what one has no control over. Anyway, the friend has had good times with her companion. Lots of good times. Cherish that, I tell her. And you may still have some good times. Maybe not as good as in the past. But if you take it all one day at a time, there'll still be good times. Don't get ahead of yourself. Don't anguish about tomorrow. And his life-threatening illness. Live today the best way you can. Loving him. Loving yourself. Loving life. Loving the presence of your friends. Even if from a distance. If you do that, you'll be all right. So will he be all right. Even if he dies, he'll be all right. Death isn't always bad, you know. Life is good. And death is a part of life. That's the way I look at it. But then again, I'm a bit crazy. --Jim Broede