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.

Yes, I’m convinced. The Malaysian jetliner met with a similar fate. I know. Instinctively. Eerily. Eerily. Eerily. --Jim Broede

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