My most wonderful experience.

Don’t know if there’s a right and proper way to write and speak, Instead, I merely forge ahead. Do whatever seems natural. Even if my many, many ways seem unnatural to others. I like to dabble. When it comes to communication. Trying  this and that. Experimenting. Used to be that I was shy. Was born that way.  Now I’m a unique blend of shyness and boldness.  Doing whatever it takes. To reach certain people. Don’t know if that would make me a good diplomat. Instead, I became a good interviewer. A writer. I’m supposed to be retired. But really, I’m not. I write more now than when I was employed as a writer. I don’t write for money. Or to make a living. But I write to stay alive. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. I’m in love. With words. Mostly English. I know some French, Italian, German, Spanish. But very little.  Not nearly enough to carry on a decent, in depth conversation.  That’s one of my biggest regrets. That I didn’t become multilingual. But I seek out foreigners that speak English. Many of ‘em are my heroes.  Because they set a fine example. For me. They have accomplished what I should have accomplished. That includes my Italian true love. Had she not become bilingual, I’d have missed out on the most wonderful experience of my life. –Jim Broede