Monday, March 31, 2014
On doing things appropriately.
I made a wise decision today. In not tuning in
the Chicago Cubs season opener. Opting instead to check the result only
after the ball game was likely to be over. And it was. The Cubs lost, 1-0, in
10 innings. I took the loss in non-stressful stride. Because I didn’t put any
emotional investment or energy into watching the game. Therefore, I had no
reason to lament the sad details. That the Cubs missed scoring opportunity
after scoring opportunity. In former times, I’d have stewed. But I don’t let
the Cubs do that to me any more. Really, boils down to this: I have taken
control. By building stress protections into my life. Don’t mind some degree of
stress. For more meaningful stuff than a Cubs game. When they win, I’ll
celebrate. Appropriately. When they lose, I’ll get on with the rest of life.
Appropriately. –Jim Broede
Ecstasy. Ecstasy. Pure ecstasy.
After weeks of listening to Beethoven string quartets, I’ve
switched. To Mozart string quartets. A delightful contrast. Mozart. So much
more gentle. Light. Airy. When I return
to Beethoven. And I will. He’ll seem all the better. The contrast. Two great
geniuses. Enhancing each other. I am blessed. Living in an age of
technology. Able to listen to music with
heart and soul. The creator himself. Speaking to me. Directly. In younger times,
the symphonies left me enthralled. A little more bombast. But now. String
quartets. And tomorrow. Bach. The sonatas for solo cello. Ecstasy. Ecstasy. Pure ecstasy. –Jim Broede
A fine and exquisite art.
Spring has yet to arrive in Minnesota. Where I live. But still today is
the first day of spring. In my heart of hearts. Because my beloved Chicago Cubs
open the baseball season. This afternoon. That’s good enough for me. Though I’m
in for another losing season. That’s the nature of the Cubs. Perennial, but
loveable losers. Cubs fans have adjusted to losing. Because the Cubs
occasionally win a game. Here and there. A nice consolation. I savor the little
things. A Cubs game. Especially when it’s played at Wrigley Field in Chicago. A sacred shrine.
Many a spring, I venture down to Arizona.
To the city of Mesa.
To take spring training. With the Cubs. Yes, mere exhibition games. But still,
in Cubsdom, a win is a win. Now I am prepared for another season. Braced for
heartbreaking losses. But still, I marvel at the accomplishments. I go into the
season feeling the Cubs have discovered virtually every way to lose. Absolutely
no more ways left. But my Cubs always come through. Always finding new ways to
lose. Ingenious. Inventive. When it
comes to losing. The Cubs are masters. Supreme. Champions. No longer a mere craft. The Cubs have made losing
a fine and exquisite art.–Jim Broede
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Class warfare's all right with me.
I’m opposed to war. Except when it comes to
class warfare. Seems to me that the poor and the middle classes get the shaft.
While the rich get richer and richer and richer. The rich are a minority.
But they rule the roost. They have the power. Politically and economically. And
they will do almost anything to retain the power and the wealth. At the expense
of the poor and middle class. That’s good reason for the subservient classes to
go to war. With the aim of defeating the rich. I’d not deny the rich the opportunity to stay rich. But I’d make them less rich For that to happen, we need an
old-fashioned donnybrook. Yes, class warfare. –Jim Broede
Not as free. As I'd like to be.
I imagine. All sorts of things. Such as: My
imagination ain’t unique. I have yet to imagine anything that wasn’t imagined
before. By millions, by billions. Most of us are endowed. With vivid
imaginations. To be used. At any time of our choosing. Wish. Wish. Wish I were
unique. That I could imagine something never imagined before. But I can’t. I’m
a mere human. Limited. Restricted. Shackled.
Not as free. As I’d like to be. –Jim Broede
To become a fool.
It’s all right. To become a fool. To blunder. A way to find
one’s way. Feeling. Feeling. Like a
blind man. Discovering. Discovering. Something new. Better to take a chance. A
risk. In search of love. Wishing.
Wishing. Dreaming. Dreaming. Yes, it’s all right. To become a fool. –Jim Broede
Saturday, March 29, 2014
A choice. Between paradise and hell.
Back in the Cold War
days, some of us young rascals would rather have been Red than dead. That’s how
opposed we were to nuclear war. I could have survived. Living under communism.
After all, I’m a socialist at heart. I would have adapted. One way or another.
Oh, I would have resisted some aspects of the communist way. Because that’s my nature. To always question
the status quo. Is there a better way? Living
under unfettered capitalism and a Republican regime isn’t exactly a picnic.
Makes communism seem not so bad. As for
today, I could live in Russia.
Quite happily. If only I could speak Russian. Therefore, I have chosen instead to divide my
time between Minnesota
and Sardinia, the homeland of my Italian true
love. If the Republicans gain control of the U.S.
Senate and the presidency, I may opt for
living a majority of time in Italy.
Certainly, that would be far better than full-time in a Republican-controlled America. Yes,
an easy choice. Between paradise and hell.
–Jim Broede
The real enemy ain't Putin.
My judgment. That Vladimer Putin is a nice and
reasonable guy. Is being fortified. By Putin’s telephone call. To Obama. As
reported in yesterday’s New York Times.
Putin wants Obama’s advice. On whether it would be wise and beneficial
for everyone to cool down the rhetoric over Crimea.
And basically, for Russia
and the U.S.
to find ways to resolve such issues. Through diplomacy. Through
compromise. Through common respect for
each others' positions. Imagine that. Makes me think that maybe Putin should be
treated as a friend. Not an arch enemy.
Time to recognize that the real bad guys in this world are the
Republicans. The ones out to destroy America. Yes, time for Americans to
recognize the real enemy. Uncompromising, hateful Republicans. –Jim Broede
A blessed death.
I wonder. If advanced Alzheimer patients would choose to
die. If granted. For a single day. The ability to think clearly and deeply.
About their situations. Maybe that’s why I don’t grieve for long. When a loved
one dies of complications from Alzheimer’s. Maybe that’s what she wanted.
Better than lingering. On and on. Senselessly. I don’t wish for anyone’s death.
But sometimes, death is a blessing. –Jim Broede
Listening. For the tick-tock of life.
I like to test people. To determine their
limits. As to what they would or wouldn’t do. Of course, this is theoretical
stuff. Because one rarely knows. With certainty. For instance, would I be
willing to die for a cause? Can’t think
of one at the moment. Life is too
precious to give up. But I might risk my life. For the sake of a loved one.
Taking a chance. That’s one thing. Voluntarily and knowingly giving up one’s
life is another. Maybe that’s a selfish attitude. I suppose if one has a firm
belief in an afterlife, it would be easier dying for a cause. Lots of people
have done it. And that makes me wonder.
Did they know ahead of time? Or was it an impulsive action? Maybe they wanted to become
heroes. Someone remembered. That could be a selfish motive. Yes, that’s what I want to know. I’m intrigued. By what makes people tick. I’m
listening. Always. For the tick-tock of life. –Jim Broede
Friday, March 28, 2014
Works for me. Every time.
Some of my friends complain. About feeling tired. Usually,
it’s at the end of the day. And I counter. By observing that I like to feel
tired. Because it’s a sign that I had a busy day. And now I can enjoy a night’s
rest. And replenish myself. I suggest that it’s normal to feel tired. Especially
if one gets minimal amount of sleep. I have a friend that customarily cheats on
sleep. Is chronically sleep-deprived. And complains, ‘Oh, I’m so tired.’ I have
a cure for such a malady. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep until one feels rested. Works for
me. Every time. –Jim Broede
The Alzheimer dilemma.
Alzheimer’s. It’s classed as a physical disease.
Alzheimer’s Disease. But from my perspective, it’s more like a mental illness.
Highlighted by often bizarre behavior. Over which the Alzheimer-riddled have
virtually no control. They ultimately
need expert care. Round-the-clock. And sadly, don’t always get it. For a
variety of reasons. Including cost. And inept care-givers. Seems to me there’s
a societal obligation to do something about it. A good start would be more
training programs. For care-givers. And widespread day-care centers – staffed
by dementia professionals – as a caring option. That would allow 24/7 in-home
care-givers opportunities to obtain much-needed rest breaks. –Jim Broede
Falling in love. Unhesitatingly.
I avoid getting ahead of myself.
Making decisions too quickly. That can be a problem. Better to wait. And
analyze the situation. Fully. Except when I fall in love. Then I know.
Immediately. It’s destiny. Meant to
be. It would be a sacrilege. To do anything but go unhesitatingly with the natural love flow. Happened
twice. The most momentous occasions. Ever. In my blessed life. –Jim Broede
Thursday, March 27, 2014
A mind...without a physical shackle.
Don’t know if I like my physical appearance. Now
that I’ve aged. Friends tell me I look younger than my years. But they may be
lying. To make me feel good. Which is all right. Because it genuinely bolsters
my ego. Some day I may look old and decrepit. I see people that have turned
100, And they generally don’t look too good. Wrinkled. Frail. Nothing like once
upon a time. Wonder what goes on in
their minds. Most have some degree of
dementia. I want to live forever. But certainly not as a physical being. Better
to be a spirit. A conscious one. A mind…without a physical shackle. That would be perfect. –Jim Broede
Not perfect. But reasonably good.
Just as well that one can’t see into the future.
I wouldn’t want to. I’d rather be surprised. Furthermore, I can settle for
taking life one day at a time. Focused on now. Rather than on the past or the
future. Of course, one is supposed to plan for the
future. And that makes sense. But to be absorbed in the future tends to rob one
of the full breath of now. I know people who had lavish and secure plans for
the future. But they died relatively young. All that planning went for naught. They didn’t live long enough to retire. To
reap the benefits of their plans. Every night, when going to bed, I’m pretty
much at peace. Satisfied that I’ve had a good day. Not perfect. But reasonably
good. –Jim Broede
A sad state of political affairs.
I’m disillusioned. And disappointed. With the
Democrats and Barack Obama. For not making a stronger case for the liberal
agenda. They’ve let Republicans bamboozle the American people. With lies and
dirty politics. Democrats and Obama
don’t know how to fight back. Or they are too lazy and uninspired. Polls are
showing that the Republicans have a 60 percent chance of gaining control of the
U.S. Senate in next fall’s mid-term elections. Indeed, that’s sad. But even
sadder is the fact that Democrats and Obama could do something about it. If
they got off their fat duffs. And started campaigning in meaningful and
passionate ways. Otherwise, Republicans
will win. By default. Indeed, a sad state of political affairs. –Jim Broede
I can live happily ever after.
For a change. I decided to spend most of winter
in my homeland. Minnesota.
For the first time in four years. Maybe that’s proof -- that I should have my head examined. I
normally trek to paradise. For the entire winter. Yes, all the way to magnificent,
beach-blessed Sardinia, the Mediterranean
island homeland of my Italian true love.
Instead, my beloved joined me. In America. For
winter. Oh, I knew better than to subject her to a full-blown real
winter. So I had her stay for only a few weeks. Over the Christmas-New Year
holiday. She acquiesced. On condition that we spend our time together in Arizona. She prefers Minnesota only in the
summertime. Anyway, that worked. We got to the Grand
Canyon, plus other places in the American Southwest. Of course, for me,
everything is grand and glorious when I’m with my true love. I could be in
hell. But if my true love were with me, I’d make the best of it. And be happy.
Not sure that she would be quite as joyous. But still, I’d show her a good time
in wintry hell. And make her think it was paradise. I’d prove my point if ever
she decides to spend a winter. With me. In Minnesota. But I ain’t gonna put her to the
test quite yet. Next winter, I’m headed
back to Sardinia. And most likely for the
winter after that and after that and after that and after that. Yes, for the
foreseeable future. I have fully learned my lesson. I can live happily ever
after. Without experiencing another Minnesota
winter. –Jim Broede
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Until Obama leaves the White House.
It’s no secret. I detest the two-party American
political system. The federal and
state governments. Keep flitting. Back
and forth. Between Democrats and Republicans.
We Americans. Have two choices. Bad. And very bad. Of course, bad seems
somewhat good. When constantly contrasted with very bad. It’s all relative. But
then, that’s the nature of American politics. Corrupt. Easily bought. By big
money. By rich people. And corporations. Occasionally, I become hopeful. That
things will change. For the better. When Barack Obama was elected. I had high hopes. But Obama
was saddled with the worst economy since the Great Depression. And a Republican
Congress intent on making Obama fail. Possibly because he’s a black man. Not
white. Skin color makes a difference. Because America has always had strong
racist elements. In politics. And in economic and social matters, too. The founding fathers were racists and
supporters of a slave economy. Racism is
a part of the American soul. Indeed, that’s
sad. But it’s reality. Far too many Americans can’t accept a black president.
That’s what all the feuding is about. For six years now, and counting. The
racists won’t let up. Until the black man leaves the White House. –Jim Broede
An un-American way to exercise.
I’m impressed. My Italian true love has joined
an aerobics class. Meets three times a week. And I’m assuming she’s the star of
the class. All women. She’s attended eight straight sessions. Without a miss.
Of course, she’s got sore muscles. But I tell her, no pain, no gain. I’ve
encouraged her to workout. Walking. Jogging. Bicycling. But she isn’t that
disciplined. She made a wise choice. Doing aerobics. With others. The
classmates motivate each other. As for me, I’d never join an aerobics class. And I hardly ever do
my daily three-hour exercise routine with others. I like solitude. Being alone.
And proceeding at my own pace. In either walking/jogging, typically 10 miles a
day, or biking 30 miles. Endurance is more important than speed. I could walk a
marathon. Without difficulty. But running 26 miles? No way. I never tried a
marathon. Even in my younger days. Don’t like the idea of competition. Instead,
I run to relax. And one can’t do that in a competitive race. Maybe that sounds
un-American. So be it. –Jim Broede
As good as they come.
Valerie Evje. She’s special. Partly, because she’s been my
primary care physician. For at least 30-some years. She’s a very, very competent doctor.
Furthermore, I like her. As a decent, empathetic human being. A good listener,
too. That’s all part of being a good doctor. Generally, I feel at ease in Dr.
Evje’s presence. Except when she’s gonna
take my blood pressure. I have the white coat syndrome. I tense up. My BP
shoots up. Sometimes into the stratosphere. When anyone wearing a white coat
wraps that arm cuff around me. When I return home, everything’s back to normal.
Anyway, Dr. Evje understands. I keep track. Of my BP. Outside the doctor’s
clinic. I share that information with
Dr. Evje. We work as a team. That’s
supposed to be the nature of a doctor-patient relationship. Good communication.
I’ve always had that with Dr. Evje. Little wonder. That I’ve followed her. All
these years. As she moved from clinic to clinic. Across the Twin Cities (St.
Paul-Minneapolis) area. Now it’s a 40-mile drive. One way. But that’s not too
far to go. For a darn good physician. But now I have a problem. Dr. Evje is
retiring. I have to find another doctor. One virtually as good as Dr. Evje.
Believe me, it won’t be an easy assignment. Because Dr. Evje may be as good as
they come. –Jim Broede
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
An Egyptian acting like a Texan.
If one wants to avoid being executed, stay out of Texas. It’s a bad place
to be. Especially if you are black. Texas
leads America
in executions. But lo and behold, there’s a place far worse than Texas. Egypt. Where a
judge has sentenced 529 Egyptians to death in one killing. The death of a
police officer. In a riot. Sounds like the Egyptian judge was a little
bit harsh. Makes me wonder. If the judge migrated to Egypt
– from Texas.
I’d like to check his credentials. His sanity, too. –Jim Broede
No pretending any more.
I like to pretend. By being a good actor.
Playing a man of moderation. And getting so
immersed in the role – that I’ve convinced myself. That I really am
moderate. In my approach to life. But I have yet to sway my Italian true love.
She thinks I tend to be an extremist. In many, many ways. But I tell her that
I’m a blend. Of many characters. Many roles. Romantic idealist. Spiritual
free-thinker. Political liberal. Lover. Dreamer. Add ‘em all up, and I’m well-balanced. A
little bit of everything. Yes, that makes me a true man of moderation. I’ve
come to believe it. No pretending any more.
–Jim Broede
Monday, March 24, 2014
Great expectations.
Don’t know if I have great expectations. Often I
merely let things happen. Naturally. And deal with it. Naturally. Better than
having a grand plan. Followed rigidly. I believe in fate. Predestination. I’ve
had two true loves. Both were meant to be. No doubt about it. I cultivated
these loves. Because…I had to. There were other potential loves. But I chose
not to get into relationships. They weren’t meant to be. If I had pursued them
anyway, they probably would have ended unhappily. Even tragically. I know
things. Instinctively. Especially in spiritual matters. I’m one of over 7
billion people on Earth. And it makes me wonder. About the significance of
being me. I’m different. In that nobody can live inside me. Except for the
particular me. The one and only me. I’ve been singled out. As unique. Nobody
else is exactly like me. I have my own consciousness. Which I want to keep
forever. Yes, might be that I really do have great expectations. –Jim Broede
On becoming a sleep thinker.
Maybe I’m learning to think in my sleep. Rather
than merely dream. Yes, a distinct difference. Before being fully awakened. I’m
resolving matters. In my mind. Minus visual effects normally found in legitimate
dreams. Instead, I’m thinking. Thinking.
Resolving issues I’m facing. Today. Tomorrow. Some day. Furthermore,
I’m consciously aware. This isn’t a dream. Still, I’m mesmerized. Totally
relaxed. In a state of immense clarity. Makes me wonder. Have I become a
sleep thinker? –Jim Broede
They're all flawed ways.
The Western Way.
The American Way.
They shouldn’t be the only ways. Doesn’t bother me that the Russian/Putin Way has emerged. I like that. The more ways, the better.
Happens all the time that devotees of the America Way often think their way is the only
legitimate way. They’d like a world in which there’s no competition. Where
everyone goes the American Way.
Undisputed. Thing is, the American
Way was corrupted. Long, long ago. And never
totally fixed. Never will be. I suspect that all political, economic and social
ways are far from perfect. They all have serious flaws. Because they are run by
flawed people. Flawed leaders. Means that I’m always looking for new ways. Could be that the Russian/Putin
Way ain’t any more flawed than the American Way. –Jim
Broede
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Pleasure.
I’m learning. To get pleasure. From everything. From work,
for instance. Suddenly, work turns to
pleasure. Even when I was a care-giver for my dear sweet Jeanne. On her 13-year
journey into the depths of Alzheimer’s. Care-giving became a pleasure. Odd as
that may seem. In the end, it became one of the most pleasurable experiences of
my life. Made me happy. Fulfilled. Doing the right thing. For the right
reasons. When I’m doing household chores, I get great pleasure. When I cook.
Again, immense pleasure. When I walk 10 miles. Bliss. When I think about
anything. Ecstasy. When I write. Joy. Even when I feel physically or mentally
tired. Yes, pulsating pleasure. Some of
my dearest friends don’t believe me. They assume I’m crazy. That I’m fooling
myself. Living in a fantasy realm. Perhaps that’s so. But doesn’t matter. I still feel pleasure. Real pleasure. –Jim Broede
The thoughtful wonders.
A thought. A random thought. That’s all it
takes. To make me aware. That I am alive. Doesn’t matter the thought. Anything
will do. Makes me a thinker. Easiest
thing in the world. To manufacture thoughts. One after another. I’m in love.
With thoughts. I record them. Write then down. So that I can see. And read a
thought. An opportunity to reflect. About the thoughtful wonders of life. –Jim
Broede
Age. Makes me feel distinguished.
Another nice thing. About being up at 3 in the morning. It’s
really 9 a.m. for my Italian true love. In Sardinia.
And she’s just connected with me. On Skype. That’s a blessing. Because she’s a
vision of loveliness. I tell her that
all the time. That she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. And that she
gets more beautiful as she ages. Of course, she’s younger than me. A reminder.
That I’m older. Sometimes, the oldest person in the room. That used to be an
odd feeling. But I’ve adjusted. Adapted. Accepted. Anyway, just read that the oldest guy on the
vanished Malaysian jetliner was 77. If I had been aboard. It would have been
me. I’m 78. Age really ain’t all bad. Makes me feel distinguished. –Jim Broede
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Politics: On the faraway moon.
Political power. I abhor it. I’d not want it. And I’m leery
of people who covet it. I’d rather live outside of politics. Maybe in the
wilderness. Or on a desert island. Or on a faraway mountain top. I’d volunteer
to join the first colony on the moon. Indeed, it’ll happen some day. Of course,
not in my lifetime. Wonder how that colony will run. If it’ll be free of
politics. I suppose every colony has a leader.
A boss. Choosing one. That may pose a political dilemma. Leading to a
split in political allegiances. I’d be forced to choose sides. To pick a
winner. And a loser. My gawd. I wouldn’t
even be able to escape politics. On the faraway moon. –Jim Broede
Ain't the news business any more.
I’m no fan of the news media. Though I was a
member. For most of my life. As a writer. For newspapers. Most media aren’t in the news business any
more. Instead, the entertainment business.
Yes, a vast difference. News used to be timely. And objective. Truly
informative. Didn’t have to be
entertaining. Now, accuracy and fairness aren't paramount. More important to be entertaining. In order to draw readers
and viewers. Increases the ratings. Can’t sell your product? Well, then you go
out of business. In order to survive, my employer (the newspaper) started
surveying readers. Asking them what they wanted. It was the news in short,
crisp manner. Learning everything one needs to know. In a minute or two. In a
blurb. In a sound bite. And in the process, newspaper readers wanted to be
entertained. Yes, that’s what we are becoming. As a society. Lazy dunderheads.
Unwillingly to take the time to become true thinkers. Little wonder. I
encounter people every day. That know virtually nothing. About the real and
pertinent issues. Political. Economic. Social. Everything. People allow themselves to be easily duped. Even
voting against their own best interests. Doesn’t matter. As long as they are
being entertained. –Jim Broede
Eerily. Eerily. Eerily.
I awakened from a dream this morning. Knowing. The fate of the missing
Malaysian jetliner. For an understanding.
An explanation. I was to go to Wikipedia. And read. About the tragic death
of golfer Payne Stewart and five others.
On October 25, 1999, a chartered Learjet 35 was scheduled to
fly from Orlando to Dallas. Early in the flight the aircraft,
which was cruising on autopilot, quickly lost cabin pressure. All
on board were incapacitated due to hypoxia – a lack of oxygen. The aircraft
failed to make a westward turn toward Dallas
over north Florida.
It continued flying over the southern and midwestern United States for almost four hours
and 1500 miles. The plane ran out of fuel and crashed into a field near Aberdeen, South
Dakota, after an uncontrolled descent. The four
passengers on board were golf star Payne Stewart, his agents Van Ardan and
Robert Fraley, and Bruce Borland, a highly regarded golf architect.
Friday, March 21, 2014
A vivid dream...that seemed so real.
To feel alive is to be crazy. Aliveness and
blessed craziness. One and the same. Knowing
that one is alive and conscious. A real being. What can be more crazy? It’s
almost unbelievable. One keeps asking the question: Can this really be? Or is
it all the figment of someone’s wild imagination? Makes one wonder, if after
death, there will be no more. Absolute nothing. Will it be as if I never lived?
It was merely the creator’s dream. Once he awakens, I will be no more.
All that I’m writing, all that I’m experiencing, never happened. Other than in
a vivid dream…that seemed so real. –Jim
Broede
What you gonna do about it?
Have you noticed? Republicans are experimenting with new ways
to cheat. By discouraging non-Republicans from voting. With voter picture ID
laws. With severely limited voting hours.
All intended to discourage turnout. Republicans know that when
relatively few people show up, their party generally does well. Voters flocking in droves – well, that scares
the heck out of Republicans. They lose those sorts of elections. Happens that poor people -- more often than
rich people – don’t have picture IDs. And they vote mostly for Democrats.
Therefore, smart political strategy. That is, if you are a Republican. You enact laws similar to the ones used by
racists in the old Jim Crow South. Anything to keep the ‘undesirables’ from
having a real say. Of course, that’s immoral act in a purported democracy. But
when did that ever bother a Republican?
If the GOP had it’s druthers, only rich white folks and conservatives
would be allowed to vote. No better way to assure Republican dominance. In
Republican-controlled state legislatures, there’s also efforts to limit major
elections to single, half-day voting. No extended voting hours. To weekends. Or
to round-the-clock hours that make it more convenient for middle class and poor
working people to vote. Sad thing. Maybe Republicans will get away with these
obscene shenanigans. Depends. Tell me,
my fellow Americans. What you gonna do about it? –Jim Broede
The Swedish touch.
I like Swedes. Maybe more than I like my fellow
Americans. Swedes seem to be nice,
empathetic people. For instance, they are reported to be the world leader. In
the acceptance of refugees from Syria.
Got to give the Swedes credit. For human decency. For doing the right thing. I
often hear Swedes criticized. For having socialist tendencies. That’s why I
like Swedes more than their American critics. Swedish immigrants settled much
of Minnesota.
Where I live. My state has a reputation.
As Minnesota
Nice. I suspect that’s due. In large part. To the influx of Swedes. And other
Scandinavians, too. Maybe it’s not only Minnesota
that benefits from the Swedish touch. Perhaps the entire world. –Jim Broede
A pity.
Oh, what if politicians were decent people? Working together. For the common good. Often
reaching accord. Somewhere in between. Both sides getting something they want.
But not everything. That would be a sign of progress. Of camaraderie. Of
goodwill. In America,
it seldom happens any more. Used to. A little more often. But now there’s a
sharp divide. Many Republicans and Democrats don’t talk to each other. They are
openly hostile. Even hateful. Makes no sense. But then, that’s the nature of
politics. A pity. –Jim Broede
The bully has yet to learn his lesson.
I’d love to be the American calling the political and
diplomatic shots. I’d start. By making Russia my foremost ally. Makes so
much sense. Face it. Two bullies working together can accomplish far more than
two bullies operating as adversaries. Think of the world problems that could be
solved. By a united American-Russian bullying effort. The Syrian debacle. The Iranian debacle. The
Palestinian-Israeli debacle. If we
Americans had been smart, we’d have spent the post Cold War period cultivating
camaraderie with Russians. With the Russian politicos. With the Russian people.
The opportunity was there. But we Americans muffed it. Because as arrogant bullies,
we wanted to lord the collapse of the Soviet Union
over the Russians. To treat them as the defeated. We relished the role of conquering bully. Making
sure that the Russians understood. Felt humiliated. Little wonder. Stupid bullies often
snatch defeat from the proverbial jaws of victory. They don’t know how to be
gracious. To win the right way. With a sense of humility. Making friends of longtime
enemies. That’s the secret of political and diplomatic success. And yes, the
world’s biggest bully (America)
has yet to learn this vital lesson. –Jim Broede
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Good stories. About naked people.
Taking advantage of opportunities. That’s what I
try to do. In my relationships. Didn’t always do that. Particularly, when I was
younger. Maybe because I was too shy.
Now I’m more bold. I act. I seize the opportunity. For instance, in talking to strangers. I make
conversation. I approach. Initiate. And
learn something significant about the stranger in the first few minutes.
Otherwise, it’s a loss. Only small talk. But right away, I want some idea of
what makes the guy/gal tick. At the very least, I make an educated guess. And
don’t hesitate getting into personal stuff. Every human being is interesting.
And has a fascinating story to tell. Maybe without
knowing it. But I’ll find something. A
story. Worth writing about. Even a dull person. Can’t hide from me. I’ll find something
exciting. Behind the dullness. Behind the facade. That’s all it is. A fear to
go naked in the world. But I see the
nakedness. And really, I’m telling everyone, believe me, there’s nothing to
fear. Because I write good stories. About naked people. –Jim Broede
A search for truth.
Maybe I was out-of-body tonight. Because I was seeing my
life in minute detail. As an observer. I had the opportunity to look at it all.
Everything. All the happenings. Even the tiniest lies. The falsehoods. The
motivations. There to be evaluated. I was compelled to see everything. In the
true manner. All the mistakes. And there were plenty of ‘em. Oh, maybe not mistakes
per se. Because I wasn’t being judged by anyone. Except myself. I wasn’t being
castigated. By the creator. Instead, I was supposed to be learning.
Being enlightened. On how I could have
handled things better. And been more honest. Primarily, with myself. Not sure
if it was an out-of-body experience. Or merely an extraordinary dream. Really
doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s all one and the same. A search for truth. For true
meaning. –Jim Broede
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Death isn't always bad.
Death isn’t always bad. I come to that
conclusion. When I see some Alzheimer patients. Makes no sense to linger on.
But that’s life. Sometimes it means a long, lingering death. When my dear sweet
Jeanne died of complications from Alzheimer’s seven years ago, I was
devastated. I watched for 13 years. As
Jeanne steadily deteriorated. From the ravages of Alzheimer’s. But still, I
didn’t want her to die. Maybe for selfish reasons. I still wanted to cling to
Jeanne. Despite the fact that she wasn’t Jeanne any more. But I still had
Jeanne with me. A physical presence. I could still touch her. Care for her.
Love her. She still provided a sustenance of sorts. For me. Yes, maybe I was
being selfish. I still got personal satisfaction. From caring. I wasn’t quite
ready to let go. But when Jeanne died, I had no choice. The physical Jeanne was
gone. But after a day or two, I had grasped the presence of Jeanne’s spirit. I
knew that she was still very much alive. And well. Like I say, death isn’t
always bad. –Jim Broede
When endowed...with imagination.
I’m a single grain of sand. On a very small
beach. But still, I’m thankful. That I
am a conscious and alive grain of sand. Makes all the difference. Makes me
wonder. If I will become more than a grain of sand. Perhaps a stone. A rock. A
boulder. A mountain. Give me time. Give me time. To become more. Everything is
possible. When endowed…with imagination. –Jim Broede
Wow!!!
I’ve become a man with two countries. Since
linking up with my Italian true love. Italy
and the USA.
Indeed, a nice arrangement. I go back and forth. So does she. We live together.
And apart, too. Though we connect daily. One way or another. By phone. By email.
By Skype. Our lives have become blended. Intertwined. I feel at home when in Italy.
Specifically, Sardinia. The second largest
island in the Mediterranean Sea. A paradise.
With 1,200 miles of coastline. The homeland of my true love. Feels like mine, too.
Though I’m also a lifelong American. A Minnesotan. With a nice home on a lake.
Where we live together. In the summer. Other times, we also travel the world.
Together. Europe. Britain. Iceland. Hopefully, Russia some day soon. St. Petersburg. Moscow. China, too. Beijing. Has me thinking.
That maybe I’m a man with many, many countries. I’m starting to feel at home.
Almost everywhere. Evolving. Into far more than an American. A
true lover. Of the entire world. Wow!!! –Jim Broede
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Small bully vs. big bully.
Politicians and powerful people (mostly rich)
run the countries of the world. And they all are manipulative.
Out after their own best interests. They are biased. Often unfair. Especially
in their dealings with other countries. But also with their own citizens. The
bigger, more powerful nations are
bullies. Certainly, that applies to the U.S. Which may be the biggest bully of all. So
when the U.S.
complains about Russia/Putin being a bully, I have to laugh. The U.S. accuses Russia of violating international
law. Funny again. Because the U.S.
doesn’t even recognize many international laws. America pretty much does as it
pleases. That’s what bullies do. Anyway, nice to see small bully Russia standing up to big bully USA. --Jim Broede
I am singing. Joyfully.
Reason to sing the Ode to Joy today. Especially if one is a
Russian. Russia and Crimea are united once again. Just like they were in
1964. When the communists (under Khrushev) detached Crimea from Russia and attached it to Ukraine. That was a mistake. Now rectified. Thanks to
the leadership of Vladimer Putin. Give the guy credit. He got Russia to do
the right thing. Bringing joy to the
people of Russia and Crimea. Putin could have dilly-dallied. And acquiesced to
the silly wishes of the U.S.
and Europe. And kept Crimea a part of Ukraine. But emotionally and ethnically and
spiritually – Crimea is far more Russian than
Ukrainian. Yes. Yes. Yes. As an
American, I am celebrating. With the Russians. I am singing. Joyfully. –Jim Broede
From enemies. To true friends.
I’m promoting good relations. Even with people
we don’t like. Because we probably don’t like ‘em for the wrong reasons. Possibly, because we are stupid. Or blind. We
never got to know ‘em. Happens all the time. We form judgments. And opinions. With little
factual basis. Never digging beneath the
surface. Shallow. Shallow. Shallow. That’s what we tend to be. We don’t take
the time. To become acquainted. Our government officials. They are as guilty as
the rest of us. Especially in foreign policy. Think of all the years of the Cold
War. It was unnecessary. If only we had tried better to truly understand each
other. And have recognized that communists and socialists are good people. Merely
with different perspectives. Different ideologies. That shouldn’t keep us from
working together. And actually liking each other. But then, we Americans are a
strange lot. We distrust each other. In the
political realm. Often, we end up hating fellow Americans. When really, we
should be practicing love. I was brought up with the odd credo – love thine
enemy. I’m often able to do that. I had ‘enemies’ that became friends. True friends. Amazing, isn’t it? –Jim Broede
Good vibes therapy. It works.
Good vibes. Bad vibes. Once upon a time. When
caring for my dear sweet Alzheimer-riddled wife Jeanne, I emitted bad vibes.
Little wonder. I was a disturbed, distressed, distraught care-giver. Jeanne sensed it. She was in an environs of
bad vibes. Almost daily. And she became disturbed, distressed, distraught. Don’t
know what made me do it. But one day, I decided, enough of bad vibes. I
resolved to emit only good vibes in Jeanne’s presence. Even if that meant
faking it. Becoming the world’s best actor. The results were amazing. A severely
cognitively-impaired Jeanne caught the good vibes. Maybe she sensed that I
truly loved her. Good vibes. Love vibes. That was the birth of my good vibes therapy. I
continued the experiment. A second day. A third day. A second week. A third
week. A second month, a third month. A second year. A third year. I was truly
communicating. If not with Jeanne’s mind. Certainly with her spirit/soul. In the process, I also reached the depths of
my being. Becoming a true lover. A decent human being. An
extraordinarily effective care-giver. Try it, Alzheimer care-givers. It works.
–Jim Broede
Monday, March 17, 2014
Putting Putin into perspective.
I measure political success by the degree of happiness
achieved by/for all of the affected parties. Take the happenings in
Crimea. The Russians and the Crimean are
happy. Because they got exactly what they wanted. The people in the
remainder of Ukraine should be happy because they no longer have the
Crimea albatross
around their necks. And the U.S. and Europe should be happy because Ukraine
will now likely become more Pro-West. Yes, everybody wins. Happiness
all around. Reason to celebrate. By putting Putin's political genius
into proper perspective. He's helped make everybody a winner. –Jim Broede
A long, long way from Texas.
I’d not want to live just anywhere in America. It
would be personally distasteful for me to reside in Texas, for instance. Or in the Southern tier
of states. Also, it’s quite possible that people down there would find me distasteful.
Can’t blame ‘em. After all, I’m too liberal. And they are too conservative.
Generally speaking, that is. So I choose to live in the North. Not all that far
from Canada.
Where I can flee. If things take a turn for the worst. As it turns out, my congressional district in
Minnesota is
gawdawful. My representative is Michelle Bachmann. Can’t get worse than that.
Even in Southern states. But still, Minnesota
has saving graces. Our U.S.
senators are Al Franken and Amy Klolbuchar. Not bad. I’m somewhat smug, too. Because I have the
option to flee at any time. And live with my Italian true love. In Paradise. In Sardinia, the second largest island in the Mediterranean Sea. With over 1,200 miles of exotic
beaches. Another plus: Sardinia is a
long, long way from Texas.
–Jim Broede
One can go home again.
I’m trying to be objective. About Russia’s
takeover of Crimea. To put myself in the roles
of the Russians and the Crimean people. Linking to the Russian Federation
makes sense. Logically. After all, Crimea was a part of Russia. As
recent as 1954. When Khruschev gave Crimea to Ukraine. A gift. Didn’t matter much
then. Because Ukraine was
part of the expansive Soviet Union. Of course,
there’s no more Soviet Union. And now there’s
wishful thinking. To fix a mistake of 60 years ago. Presto. Like magic. Makes Russians and Crimean
relatively happy. Goes to show that one
can go home again –Jim Broede
Sunday, March 16, 2014
A nifty deal.
Maybe Vladimer Putin is an autocrat. A dictator, of sorts.
But give him credit. He has a 71 percent approval rating in Russia. That
makes him an astute politician. Meanwhile, Barack Obama’s approval rating has
plummeted to 41 percent. How should we take all this? Means Putin is well-liked in his country. If
not in the Western world. Means Obama isn’t nearly as well-liked as he was when first
elected. But there’s a consolation. For
Obama. He still gets higher approval ratings than Congress. I have an idea.
Let’s have an exchange program. America
takes Putin. For a year. Provided the Russians take Obama. I’d also throw in
Congress. To make it a nifty deal. For America, that is. –Jim Broede
Did Obama lose his soul?
Obama’s low and steadily declining approval
rating. Maybe it’s a good sign. That Obama is doing the right thing. By not
catering to the popular ideas. Rejecting the politically convenient ways. Refusing to
be the typical lying and deceitful politico. Maybe he’s saying to hell with the
political games. By doing the unpopular but right things. Remaining true to his
soul/spirit. I don’t know. Only guessing. I’d be an unpopular president, too.
But then, I’d never be president. Too high a price to pay. Selling one’s soul.
Makes me wonder. Did Obama lose his soul? –Jim Broede
Like a monk in a monastery.
Democrats are a worried bunch. And they should
be. They not only could keep losing the House of Representatives, but the
Senate, too. Of course, I personally
don’t worry. About political calamities. I have better things to do. Such as
getting on with life. Trying to be oblivious of political realities. Of any
kind. I could adapt to living under communism. Or even a theocracy. Because I’m
a flexible liberal. Able to find solace and peace of mind, one way or another.
By accepting situations I can’t change. Even when my dear sweet Jeanne had a 13-year
bout with Alzheimer’s, and died – well, I still got on with life. During and
after the siege. Trying valiantly to make the best of it. I’d do the same. Even
if the wild-eyed, crazy conservative Republicans gained control of the entire
seat of government. I could still live in
hell. By crawling into my cocoon. Turning inward. Into the spiritual realm.
Like a monk in a monastery. Ignoring the hellish outside world. –Jim Broede
Bravo!!! Bravo!!! An encore, please.
Better to look at events. In life. As theater.
Unfolding dramas. The two most fascinating current soap operas. The
disappearance of the Malaysian jetliner.
The Russian takeover of Crimea, and maybe all of Ukraine. Every
day. I go to the theater. To see the next act. As if I am the creator. Seeking
entertainment. Not knowing. Yes, not knowing what will come next. I make up
possible outcomes. Calculated guesses. Wild guesses. Often, I’m correct. But it’s all right. If I am fooled. As for the
jetliner. I’m predicting that it landed safely. In a remote part of the world. Undetected. For weeks. That would be incredible.
A fabulous trick. To hide anything. Much less a jetliner and 239 passengers.
In the age of surveillance. And imagine. People presumed dead. Turn up alive.
Wow!!! Bravo!!! Bravo!!! An encore, please. –Jim Broede
Saturday, March 15, 2014
A matter of respect.
There’s the Russian way. The Italian way. The
German way. The French way. The British way. The Czech way. Oh, so many ways. I
try to follow the American way. Most of the time. But really, it’s the Jimmy
way. Doing as I please. A blend of many, many ways. Because I like all
the ways on my list. I’m adaptable. Flexible. I avoid being too negatively judgmental
of other people’s ways. Now, I’m trying to better understand the Russian way.
Also known as the Putin way. Russians are a special breed. Orthodox.
Autocratic. In their leadership roles. The masses, however, tend to be
submissive. Following their leaders. Dutifully. Once revering the czars. Then
they took to communism. I understand. That’s their evolving nature. To seek the common good. Far
different than the more selfish American way. Not saying whether that’s
good or bad. Merely, that’s reality. If I were Russian, I’d
accept the Russian way. More or less. That would be my nature. To show respect. For the Russian way. –Jim Broede
Government: Our salvation.
The problem isn’t too
much government. It’s too little. Especially now that 7 billion people inhabit
the globe. Many of ‘em poor and
downtrodden. Seems to me we have a responsibility. For each other. To some
significant degree. Shouldn’t be everyone for himself. At least, not totally.
We need to work for a common good. And that’s achieved through government.
Regulation. Rules. Maybe ones that apply worldwide. More sharing. Of wealth, for instance. Less
selfishness. More selflessness. Bad
news, maybe. For libertarians. And Republicans. Those clamoring for less
government. I’m for freedom. In principle.
In the abstract. But there’s no such thing as complete and total
freedom. Impossible. To allow everyone to do as they please. That would be chaos. An impinging on
the freedom of others. The best way to reach resolution. And solution. Is by
compromise. Through government. Local,
regional, national – yes, even world government. As I see it, government may be
our salvation. Not our damnation. –Jim
Broede
Until learning otherwise.
Rigged government. Run by a rigged political
system. That’s what we have in the USA. We Americans are told that we
live in a republic/democracy. But it ain’t so. We live in a plutocracy. Run by
the plutocrats. The rich. Wealthy individuals. Wealthy corporations. They buy
influence. In congress. In state legislatures. In the news media, too. It’s all
rigged. We Americans are told that we live in the freest country in the world.
That we call the shots. Because we vote. We pick our leaders. Not true. It’s a sham. That’s my opinion. And
I’m sticking by it. Until learning otherwise. –Jim Broede
In the still of the night.
You have learned to enjoy going to bed at night. To savor the bliss of falling asleep. Even when you were
watching TV last night. You dozed off. In
a pleasurable way. And once you got into bed and beneath the blankets,
you sensed pleasure. The opportunity to fall asleep. To rest. To lose
consciousness. You wake in the
middle of the night. To enjoy the brief return to consciousness. With a beautiful
thought. You feel the pleasure of being
relaxed. And in bed. Undisturbed. In the darkness and silence and still of the night. --Jim Broede
Americans have waited too long.
Universal health care. Right here in America. That
should be an entitlement. For every American. Rich and poor. Obamacare is a
step in the right direction. But it doesn’t go far enough. America needs a
single-payer system. In essence, Medicare for everyone. Guaranteed health care.
The best health care in the world.
Americans have waited too long.
Give us our entitlement. To universal health care. –Jim Broede
Long live the liberal causes!!!
I’m for entitlements. Social Security. Medicare. Those two
programs constitute 70 percent of the entitlements in America. A good
thing. Entitlements. They should be expanded. Not cut back, as the Republicans
would have it. Rise up, Americans. Defend your entitlements. You deserve
‘em. More so than the rich deserve
corporate welfare. Little wonder that I’m a liberal. And proud of it. Yes, my fellow Americans, it’s the liberals
that brought you Social Security and Medicare and other vital entitlements.
Long live the liberal causes! –Jim Broede
Rigged in countless ways.
Hypocritical Americans (especially Republicans). It ain’t
all right for Putin to rig an election. In Crimea.
But it’s okay to rig elections in the USA. With voter suppression laws. Intended
to make it difficult to vote. With picture ID laws. With limited single day
voting hours (7 a.m. to 7 p.m.). With too few voting machines. Scams. Designed to make voting difficult. For
certain citizens. Especially for
minorities and low income Americans. Because they tend to vote Democratic. Let’s
be truthful. About rigged elections. Right here. In America. Rigged primarily by the
right wing. By the conservative Republicans. I want a less hypocritical America. Where
everyone is given ample opportunity to vote. Maybe week-long voting. Let’s get
huge turnouts. Instead of discouraging voting, let’s encourage it. Like the
Russians are doing in Crimea. I have little
doubt that the referendum in Crimea, this
Sunday, won’t be any more rigged than a typical American election. Yes, that’s
the nature of politics and electioneering. Games. Dirty games. Rigged. By the
power elites. Rigged. One way or another. Rigged in countless ways. –Jim Broede
Friday, March 14, 2014
On turning 'enemies' into friends.
My so-called enemies. They really aren’t
enemies. I merely pretend they are. Often for laughs. I have disagreements.
With real people. But that doesn’t make ‘em enemies. Even Republicans. That I
castigate. Regularly. They ain’t enemies. Yes, they are stupid. And
mean-spirited. But those are insufficient reasons to give then real ‘enemy’
status. Only pretend enemies. So that I can mock them. Years ago, right here in
my blog, I labeled a group of snotty women ‘snob ladies.’ Treating them as
‘enemies.’ But really, they weren’t. I loved ‘em all. Just happens, that’s my
odd way. To cozy up. To potential enemies. Of all kinds. Because they are good
influences. Getting me to see the humorous, less serious side of
life. Allowing me to turn would-be
enemies into true friends. –Jim Broede
A preposterous reality.
Seems obvious to me. The Malaysian jetliner. It
was hijacked. For some yet weird and unexplained reason. I’m entitled to my
theory. The plane was snatched. By aliens. In a UFO. Taken to another dimension. Therefore,
the plane and passengers could show up. Maybe in a week or two. Or even a year.
That would be amazing. And a
confirmation. Of my vivid imagination. At work. Able to predict a preposterous reality. –Jim Broede
The amazing intent of the creator.
When life goes wrong. Goes awry. I still feel
blessed. Not immediately. But afterwards. Because from bad, springs good.
Always has. Always will. Precious life. Full of tests. If bad ends well, it’s transformed.
Into something good. Bad is bad. Only when I still have something to learn.
That all of life is a blessing. If only I see. Beyond the surface/horizon. The
kindly and benevolent intent. Of the creator. It’s love. Pure love –Jim Broede
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Nibbled.
I’m happy. With life. But not complacent. Things could
always be better. But hey, I try to make the best of situations. Without
putting too many demands on myself. Or others. Especially others. Another
thing. I settle. For what I’ve got. For instance. I’m not monetarily rich. Nor
poor. I have no desire to become a millionaire. Wouldn’t know what to do with
all that money. Might pose a dilemma. And make me unhappy. Lots of people are
never satisfied with what they’ve got. Always wanting more. Better to savor
what one already has. Life is sort of a big feast. So very much to consume. That
could lead to gluttony. Better to nibble.
That’s how life was meant to be. Nibbled. Nibbled. And nibbled some
more. –Jim Broede
The pursuit of happiness.
Political events. Such as Russia’s take over of Crimea.
And catastrophes. Such as the disappearance (and presumed crash) of the
Malaysian jetliner. Such happenings have
little direct effect on me. Therefore. I get on with the rest of my life. Unless I let that stuff bother me. And generally, I don’t. Unless, of
course, I’m a Ukrainian. Or if I had a friend or relative aboard the
plane. I rationalize. That I have no
direct control over these things. I’m powerless. I’ve learned acceptance. Even
when my dear sweet Jeanne had a 13-year siege with Alzheimer’s. I accepted. Though grudgingly. Yes, bad stuff happens. Grieve. For a while. But
not forever. Instead, get on with life. Get on. Get on. That’s my credo. My
refrain. Find ways to make the best of
life. Always pursue happiness. Despite the pitfalls. –Jim Broede
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Time to outsmart the stupid.
Unfortunately, America has more than a fair share
of stupid white men. Which is good news for Republicans. And bad news for America. Stupid
white men vote heavily for Republicans. Yes, that’s conclusive proof – that
they are, indeed, very stupid. Most of ‘em are lesser-educated Americans. They
can easily be sold a bill of goods. With
negative and false political ads. The type of misleading propaganda purchased by the
conservative billionaire Koch Brothers. Tell a lie often enough, and stupid
white men will accept it as the gospel truth. Republicans know it. And they
don’t hesitate taking advantage of the stupid. Little wonder. Republicans
control the House of Representatives. And appear to be in a position to
gain a majority in the U.S. Senate this fall. If that happens, maybe the
Democrats are more stupid than stupid white men and stupid Republicans.
Otherwise, they would go on a counter-offensive and thwart the Republicans.
With smart political maneuvering. –Jim Broede
Give me paradise over hell.
I’d not want to live in the American South.
Especially in the tier of states from Texas to
Florida. Including the hellish states of Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama, Georgia,
South Carolina.
I’m uncomfortable. With the political and social climate. All over the South. I
lived in Florida.
In the 1960s. During the big civil rights push. And even though there has
always been an influx of people from the North in Florida, it’s been full of bigoted
Southerners. And that’s attracted many, many bigoted and lesser-educated
Northerners, too. I’ve been to all the Southern states. For visits. Or just
passing through. And always, it makes me more appreciative of life in the
North. There’s a difference. Let’s face it. I’m a political and social liberal. I’d not be well-received in much of the
South. Wasn’t in the 1960s. And wouldn’t be today. Though it’s getting a little
better. With some liberal enclaves. But
still, conservative Republicans abound. Texas
hasn’t elected a Democrat to a statewide office in 20 years. But don’t get me
wrong. Life in the South ain’t all bad. The weather can be nice. Especially in
the wintertime. But the political and social climate. That’s another thing.
It’s a living hell. And I prefer a living paradise. –Jim Broede
As I journey. Back and forth.
I’m allowed to escape. From the rest of the world. To go
into isolation. Here. In the early morning. Into the quiet solitude. I savor being alive. And conscious. And in love. With life. In infinite ways. To be with people. But also
to be away from the crowd. And the turmoil. A need/desire to
escape. And to mix, too. To approach strangers. Out of curiosity. And for acts
of kindness. But alas. I need and covet moments of isolation. A
turning inward. A journey into the depths of my soul/spirit. To reflect. To
ponder. About the amazing and wonderful two-way
nature of life. Constantly journeying. Inward and outward. Back and forth. –Jim Broede
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
At 3 in the morning.
My favorite time. Often, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning. I
haven’t gone to bed yet. Or I’m awakened. After a dream. A nice time. To think.
Clearly. Occasionally, I go for a walk. Yes, at 3 in the morning. Nobody
around. No traffic in my neighborhood. Lights out. Except for the moon and the
stars. A good time, too. For a treat. A snack. A caramel roll. Heated in the
microwave. With a mug of cold milk. As I take to the computer. To write. A
thought. And then another thought. About the joyful wonders at 3 in the
morning. –Jim Broede
Please, let it be. In my lifetime.
Had a good news/bad news dream tonight. About my
beloved Chicago Cubs. They finally made it to the World Series. The opening
game. And I was ready to watch. When the TV went kaput. Repair was underway. I
waited. And waited. Told be patient. To take a nap. And I’d be able to catch
the game before it was over. Three hours
passed. I knew the game must be over. I had probably missed the entire game.
Makes me wonder why I didn’t turn on the radio. Or go to the computer. Guess
that’s what I finally did. To get the final score. The Cubs lost, 8-7. A heart-breaker, for sure. Maybe it was just as
well that I missed the game. But hey, that was only the first game of the
series. There's still tomorrow. And game two. Besides, it’ll be good enough.
For me. If the Cubs finally make it to the World Series again. Winning, too?
Well, one can’t have everything. Maybe that’s why the dream seems so real. The
bad news Cubs still found a way to lose. But upon awakening, I'm joyful. No lamenting. After all, the Cubs made it to the World Series. Please, let it be. In my lifetime. –Jim Broede
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