Still waiting for next year.

I would happily manage the Chicago Cubs. For free. In fact, I would pay the Cubs if they hired me. Yes, I’m a Cubs fan. Addicted. Since childhood. I’m 78. And it’s been a long, long time waiting for the Cubs to win a World Series. Last time that happened was 1908. But hey, there’s a consolation. I remember 1945.  When I was a 10-year-old kid. Listening to the radio. The Cubs were playing the Detroit Tigers. In the World Series. And the Cubs lost the seventh and deciding  game.  That makes me an elite. Imagine that. I was alive. Way back then. The last time the Cubs almost did it. Thank gawd. Haven’t run out of time.  I'm still waiting for next year. –Jim Broede

Things went haywire.

Maybe life is meant to be funny. Full of laughs.  Not to be taken seriously. I’m beginning to think that’s the truth. The real truth. The original intention of the creator. But somewhere along the line, things went haywire.  People began to take themselves seriously. So seriously. That they became Republicans. –Jim Broede

Is there no escape?

I want an idiot-free world. No more idiots. But the more I think about it, that means a world without people. Because we are all idiots. We were born idiots. And we die idiots. It’s a continual turnover. An ever-lasting hell, so to speak.  All of us. We are condemned to live in hell. For our entire natural lives.  There’s only one unresolved question. What about the afterlife?  Is that idiotdom, too? Oh, my gawd! Is there no escape? –Jim Broede

I believe...

The trouble with politics is politics. We need to take politic out of politic. Especially in Washington. Let’s become more objective. And less subjective. About the running of a country such as America.  Let’s ban politicians not only from making political decisions, but from delving into economic, social and moral matters as well. Some day I want to live in a political-free country.  Impossible, you say?  Well, I believe in the impossible. I believe in a world without Republicans. In a realm where we all can walk on water.  I believe… --Jim Broede

Thinking. The cure for boredom.

Staying up late doesn’t bother me. Because I’m fascinated. Enamored with life. With whatever I’m doing. Whether it’s cleaning the house. Or pondering about what to write. I’m enjoying myself. And so I don’t feel tired. I tend to be tired when bored.  And that hardly ever occurs. Besides, I enjoy being bored. That turns me on. Makes me wonder why I’m bored. And when thinking  about it, I’m no longer bored. Yes, thinking. The cure for boredom. --Jim Broede

A dreamer, too.

I like to romanticize about life. That’s why I fantasize a whole lot. I make of life what I want it to be. Not necessarily what it is.  That’s why I believe in an afterlife. In other dimensions. In Paradise.  In divine fate. In destiny. In the idea that I am blessed. And that life is full of pleasure. That work isn’t work. Instead, it’s pure pleasure. I believe in happiness far more than I believe in sadness. I stay up into the night. To savor being alive and conscious. Aware that I have a pulse and a heartbeat. And that I have true love. Not only of life. But of  my Italian true love. Makes me a true romantic idealist. A dreamer, too. --Jim Broede

The terrible truth.

Things ain’t going well in assisted living. For my friend Ron. He’s the 85-year-old father of my friend and neighbor Julie. He’s got Alzheimer’s. And lived with Julie and Rick. In their home. For over five years. Until he was placed in assisted living last week. I’ve written a lot about Ron. In this blog. I’ve taken to Ron. And his pet dog Sasha. We go for walks. Almost daily. But less often now. Because the extraordinary senior care campus is 20-some miles away. Out in the country. On 183 acres. It’s swank. Idyllic. And expensive. But looks to me like Ron’s not getting proper/adequate care. Maybe it’s that he needs more than assisted living. In a nursing home. Where he’d receive round-the-clock care. When left to his own devices, he gets into trouble. Could come to harm. Julie is thinking about bringing Ron home again. She’s pissed. With the staff in assisted living. They aren’t doing the job. Especially on weekends. They are understaffed.  Also, most of the nurses’ aides are poorly trained. They have no or little clue over how to deal with Ron and others with dementia. It’s a disgrace. A shame. I fear for Ron’s well-being. Even if he’s checked into a full-fledged nursing home.  I know. Because my dear sweet Jeanne had Alzheimer’s. And she spent the last 38 months of her life in a nursing home. I was there for her. For 8-10 hours a day. Didn’t miss a single day, thank gawd. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have received proper/adequate care. She needed the supplemental care that I provided.  Ron will need that, too. And most likely, he won’t get it. Unless Julie and others show up almost daily. To supplement the care. That’s reality. A must. Sadly, all too often, it doesn’t happen. That’s the nature of the care-giving business. Leaves so much to be desired. It’s expensive. Terribly expensive. And terribly inadequate, too. –Jim Broede