An optimistic upbeat guy.

I’m basically an upbeat guy. Because of life circumstance. I’ve been blessed with good health. Here I am. A survivor. For 82 years, and counting. Sure, I’ve had setbacks. Disappointments. The loss of loved ones. Lots of stuff. That I wish had never happened. But I’ve always been in a position. To remind myself. That I’ve been healthy, if not wealthy. Doesn’t matter As long as I have my health. Makes me feel good. Even when life takes a bad turn. I can handle rough spots. I simply go for brisk walks. And breathe fresh air. Clears my mind. Every time. Meanwhile. I know the time will come. When I’m no longer healthy. I may drop dead. Without notice. But hey, as long as I’m healthy. No need to worry about the future. Instead, I’ll just settle. For being an optimistic upbeat guy. --Jim Broede

Science fiction. Come true.

Not sure that I’ll ever fully understand. The concept of parallel universes. Existing. Alongside our own. Where the rules of nature and physics are much different. I yearn. To slide into one of these universes. Perhaps upon my physical demise. Allowing me to exist. In a non-physical form. As spirit. The passage/transformation would occur. Immediately. Upon death.  The ceasing of physical existence. But still I would exist. Makes me wonder. If dementia. Is a form of slow, gradual travel. To one of these parallel universes. Where one is stuck. With one foot in our earthly physical universe and the other in a non-physical parallel universe. Where spirits reside. In a Nirvana. A place devoid of physicality. Sounds a bit complicated, doesn’t it? Like entry into a fantasy realm. But that’s how it would feel. Upon initial entry. One would have to take time. To adjust. To a totally new form of existence. Ah, sounds fantastic. Like science fiction. Come true. --Jim Broede

My own worst enemy.

Little things. Inconsequential things, really. Often disrupt my day. And I don’t like that. I shouldn’t allow the small stuff to negate an otherwise good day. For instance. If the Chicago Cubs are having a bad day. I’m bothered. Annoyed. Maybe because I want the day to flow smoothly. Perfectly. Without disruption. Everything falling into place. Even the outcome of a baseball game. I know. I know. I’m at fault. I don’t have to be bothered. But here I am. Treating small stuff. Like big stuff. Giving it too much attention. Far more than it merits. Yes, I know it. But still. I’m compelled. To be my own worst enemy. Go figure. I wonder if that goes for most of us. --Jim Broede