Slow. Slow. And slower.

When I'm with my Italian true love, I tend to live life in slow, slow motion. Because I wanna make everything last. I'm savoring. Enjoying. Everything. I'm in no hurry to get on to the next moment. I want the existing moment to last. As if time has stopped. For instance, when I'm living with my true love in Sardinia (for six months a year), it typically takes 90 minutes for me to eat supper. When I'm alone, back here in Minnesota, I may finish in an hour. Unless I imagine my true love sitting next to me. Then it takes an hour and a half again. By the way, I'm connected to my true love daily. By Skype. An audio/video hook-up on the Internet. Usually for at least two or three hours a day. And I drag it out. To slow, slow time. Used to be that in my younger days, I lived life as if I was in a hurry. Sad, isn't it? It's a shame to rush through life. But I don't do that any more. I've learned to live the right way. Slow. Slow. And slower. --Jim Broede