The most precious ingredients of life.

If I never spent another day of my life in a big metropolitan city, that would be fine with me. I could adjust. And feel that I wasn’t missing anything life-fulfilling. Doesn’t matter whether it’s big city New York or Chicago in America. Or Rome or Paris in Europe. I’ll settle, instead, for the little out-of-the-way places. I don’t like big cities. The traffic. The noise. The hustle-bustle. Just too much going on.  I leave big cities with a feeling of inauthentic.  That’s just me. I’d rather be in a slow-paced small town. Or out in the country. Yes, I want to mix with country hicks rather than city slickers. I’m gonna be in Chicago next week. With my Italian true love.  Because she wants to see the big city. To get a true taste of America.  But for me, it’s a sour taste. Even though that’s where I was born. Chicago, that toddlin’ town. The windy city. The city of big shoulders. And my Chicago Cubs. But usually when I’m in Chicago, I can’t wait to escape. To the countryside of Wisconsin and Minnesota. To quiet. To solitude. The most precious ingredients of life. –Jim Broede