I can walk on water.

My Italian true love is trying to teach me how to float on my back. It's a feat I have yet to master. I tend to sink. Like a rock. She thinks it's funny. And incredible. That I can't always master the most simple tasks. But I tell her I'd rather achieve the most difficult assignments. Such as walking on water. That, I can do. But she doesn't believe me. I don't do it in front of her. Because I'm trying to be humble. And not be a show off. Besides, she probably wouldn't believe her eyes. Because she's a Doubting Thomas. But every day, I walk on water. I practice. When people aren't looking. And I've succeeded. Walking clear across Forest lake, a distance of around a mile. Doing it under cover of darkness. Some people assume I'm joking. Kidding. But I'm telling the truth. With a straight face. Lunatic fringe Republicans do the same thing -- insist that they are telling the political truth. Daily. I accuse them of telling bold-faced lies. But they swear it's the truth. The gospel truth. The same goes for me. It's the truth. I can walk on water. --Jim Broede