A Quest for Why Littlenecks Have None and Steamers Do

Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

Steamers have little ones
Littlenecks have none
If seafood names made any sense
There wouldn’t be any fun

Being a native of New England I was raised on seafood. All manners of fish have made its way into my digestive processes.

To be honest, in the beginning I was fond of just those culinary masterpieces called fish sticks. Where they got the three-dimensional rectangular fish to fit into the succulent crusty outside I never was able to find out. My mother told me a story (that I apparently took to heart) that an uncle of once told me I need special hooks to catch them. I tried but I could never find those either.

Eventually my appreciation of the delicacies of the sea expanded to include pretty much anything.  I would even come to enjoy seaweed salad or other forms of what use to seem to me nothing but slimy strands that stuck to you when swimming.

Despite their wonderful taste I always wondered about the first human to eat an oyster.

This was not an original thought. Depending on which version you prefer several people, Jonathan Swift being my personal favorite, have written some version of the line,

“Was a bold man, that first ate an oyster.”

LADY SMART
Ladies and gentlemen, will you eat any oysters before dinner?
COLONEL ATWIT
With all my heart. [Takes an oyster.] He was a bold man, that first eat an oyster
LADY SMART
They say, oysters are a cruel meat, because we eat them alive; Then they are an uncharitable meat for we leave nothing to the poor; and they are an ungodly meat, because we never say grace.
MR. NEVEROUT
Faith, that’s as well said, as if I had said it myself.

Jonathan Swift, Polite Conversations

When you think about it, pulling from a pile what appears to be a rock covered in slime and mud, battling to open it revealing a graying brown oozy substance, then slurping it down one’s throat seems counterintuitive, if not a bit risky.

The only possible reason is desperation. Like a homeless, starving person pawing through the trash for a half-eaten sandwich except they don’t know it’s a sandwich or what it contains since they’ve never seen one.

But living near the ocean, we had the benefit of all those “bold” people before us who paved the way for us to savor the contents of those shells.

“Hmm, what would go well on top to enhance the flavor of an oyster?” Something often described as sweet by aficionados and like swallowing with a bad cold by those less inclined.

Joe Broadmeadow

But the names always confused me. Littlenecks have no visible necks even once they are opened. Steamers, if one were to describe them to someone who has never seen them, are small bivalve shells with, of course, little necks protruding from these shells.

If one is kind, one warns those unfamiliar with steamers of the proclivity of these shellfish to spit given the chance in a last act of defiance before being eaten. I never did, preferring to see the surprise when it happened.

 And in an example of divine inspiration someone who’d consumed an oyster thought, “Hmm, what would go well on top to enhance the flavor of an oyster?” Something often described as sweet by aficionados and like swallowing with a bad cold by those less inclined.

“I know! Let’s take horseradish—another acquired taste—mix it with ketchup, or catsup, or however you spell it, and slather that on it.”

“Yeah, but what about the steamers? What do we do with them?”

“Butter! Everything tastes better with butter.” Which is one of the fundamental laws of the universe.

While these delicacies can be consumed year-round, there is something magical about eating them in the summer. They remind me of the lazy summer days without school when the whole family—aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends— would gather several times in July and August in Cumberland, Rhode Island, and steam, shuck, dip, and slurp our way to nirvana.

It may have been a bold person (I suspect it was a woman since they are infinitely more inquisitive and courageous than most men) who first ate an oyster, but they are also my personal heroes for endowing the world with such pleasure.

One has not lived until you can sit under the last rays of a summer day fading to twilight, satiated by a dozen or two of oysters, a bucket of steamers, and a healthy pile of littlenecks still bathing in the salt water of their birth, while watching the stars appear one by one in the sky.

The Man had sure a Palate cover’d o’er With Brass or Steel, 
that on the rocky Shore First broke the oozy Oyster’s pearly Coat,
And risqu’d the living Morsel down his Throat.
What will not Lux’ry taste? Earth, Sea,
and Air Are daily ransack’d for the Bill of Fare.

John Gay, Trivia: Or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

Life is a Journey with One Destination and Many Stops Along the Way

Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

"Time, time, time see what's become of me
While I looked around for my possibilities..."
Paul Simon, A Hazy Shade of Winter

In this moment of our shared existence we each face a final destination. The date and time of arrival (or departure, if you prefer) some believe is yet to be determined. Others believe it is pre-determined at the moment of birth. In the end, the when, where, and how will matter little to the person who has reached this communal moment, hopefully it will matter to those still on this journey.

Experiencing the moment when someone leaves this life is one of the many shared stops along the way. There are a universe of others.

We share these experiences many ways.

We meet new people, make new friends, jump in muddy puddles, walk in the rain or along a warm beach or in a primal forest trail.

We play with dogs, examine ant hills, watch bees and butterflies dart among flowers.

We embrace the first inkling of attraction to another person beyond the measure of just friendship and the sadness of such moments ending.

We have moments of ecstasy and agony. Joy and despair. Triumph and defeat. Success and failure.

We learn something new almost every moment in the beginning, then slowly forget when the demands of life force us in other directions.

We build fierce loyalties to some in our lives and determined resistance to our perceived enemies.

We find moments of supreme satisfaction in some accomplishments and profound disappointment in our failures.

While we are immersed in these experiences, the destination grows closer. At first it is a concept too foreign for consideration. Then, perhaps with the passing of another, we have that first thought of what our destination might be. But the thought passes.

Yet we all come to that moment when we realize our journey consists more of places we’ve been than places we’ve yet to go. And therein lies not despair or sadness but opportunity.

Part of the secret of living is to remember the destination may be just over the next hill or thousands of miles away. This informs us of the most powerful elements of our humanity, choices. No matter your circumstances, your place in the world, your physical well-being, you have a choice.

Ad the choice is simple. Spend your time looking back and remembering or look forward to whatever experiences there are yet to come. While there are many external influences over our lives which are beyond our control, how we choose to deal with them is completely up to us.

Wherever your destination lies, let every moment until you arrive matter. So jump in muddy puddles, take a walk in the rain, chase a frisbee, or just sit quietly and see the wonders of nature.

That you have a destination is beyond your control. How you experience the journey is all up to you. “Hang onto your hopes, my friend.”

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

No One Put a Gun to Their Head

Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

In the realm of student loan forgiveness, I have mixed feelings. The sheer weight of the debt is a negative factor in the economy. Almost everyone agrees with this. And there is a generational unfairness where those who have graduated over the last couple of decades bear a higher cost of their education when compared to baby boomers and the WWII vets who benefitted (rightfully so) from GI Bill funding of education.

But I don’t want to bore you with numbers and statistics. “Figures lie and liars figure,” as the saying goes.

This of more of a gut instinct about the concept.

To expect others who, for whatever reason, did not take on such debt to pay for your decision to do so seems incongruous with accepting responsibility for one’s choices.

Joe Broadmeadow

The cost of education has soared. The reasons vary for this. One of the more interesting theories is that the availability of student loans fuels the rising school costs since students continue to apply despite the tuition numbers.

There is no market pressure to compete against less costly alternatives, like in-State institutions or two-year community colleges.

But ultimately, people make their choices. For 2022-2023, the average annual cost for a private university is $39,723. For out-of-state tuition at a public university, it is $22953. And for in-State, $10423. The cost differences are dramatic.

Then there are the Ivies and other “prestigious” schools. The cost of attending Brown University is staggering for the academic year 2023-2024.

Tuition:                            $69,118

On-campus housing:      $18,466

Total for 4 years:             $346,336

Now while there are programs to offset some of these costs, financial aid at Brown is not something most students can rely on to reduce a significant portion of their degree costs.

So a graduating senior leaves Brown with an outstanding education and what amounts to a mortgage on a house they can no longer live in. But as the saying goes,

“What do you call a graduate of Brown Medical School? Doctor. What do you call a graduate of the University of Florida Medical School? Doctor.”

After a few years, one’s innate abilities and drive will overcome any real or perceived benefit from where one graduated.

But what this all boils down to is choices. When you decide on the school to attend, you accept the cost. Then, when you take out the loan, you know the numbers and the effect this will have on your future income.

None of this was shrouded in fog.

To expect others who, for whatever reason, did not take on such debt to pay for your decision to do so seems incongruous with accepting responsibility for one’s choices.

Of course, like all such issues, inherent complexities and subtleties go beyond the emotion of the problem. For example, perhaps the government could consider lowering the interest rate on the loans to reduce the burden. But in the final analysis, those who took on these loans walked away with the degree. To expect others to pay for something they do not benefit from does not feel right.

We need to revisit the whole concept of public education. Once there was controversy over requiring a high school diploma in an economy driven by jobs where the perception of most saw little benefit from such an educational standard. Things have changed, and the necessity of a college degree for many, but not all, occupational choices is clear.

Or maybe we should try to catch up with a significant portion of the rest of the essentially democratic countries in the world who offer free undergraduate—and in some cases masters and PhD level—degrees for free.

Perhaps as a temporary measure we can reduce (but not eliminate) the crushing burden of student loan debt in the short term while putting in place a process to bring the pressures of market demand back onto tuition costs. By increasing competitiveness for student applications we can reduce the overall costs of education for future generations.

And yet, the idea of forgiving student debt as an outright measure still doesn’t feel right to me.

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

Under the Banner of Things You Didn’t Know But Will Be Glad I Explained It

Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

Did you ever wonder why French Fries—or American Fries if you want to receive some benefit from the money Congress (not a group of baboons but the group of self-important egotistical maniacs in D.C.) once  wasted debating the issue—are long and thin?

Well, it is so you can fit them around the other food in your belly no matter how big a sandwich or serving of fish you’ve consumed. If one were looking for examples of divine inspiration you need look no further.

Think about it. A double cheeseburger or hefty serving of gloriously coated fried fish lend themselves to creating spaces where, and here’s the genius part, the French fries can almost endlessly slide around and fill in these gaps.

It can be the only explanation for why many restaurants serve what amounts to the total crop output of a medium sized potato farm sliced up and fried with every dish offering a side of fries.

Not being the type of person who benefits from buffets or all-you-can-eat gluttony feasts, I often ask the wait staff to ask the kitchen to cut down on the size of the side dish.  To no avail. All I get is a polite, of course, sir, and then a mountain of fries arrives as if nothing can be done about it.

They merely look at you as if you can’t comprehend the simple nature of the intrinsically simple design. Just eat the fries, sir. They’ll all fit, trust us.

I think it is why McDonald’s fries are so long and thin. Once you had the taste of one, the rest just seem to march lock-step right after them into the mouth and down the hatch.

As a side note, and with all due respect to the success of the McDonald’s brand, I can’t help but be disappointed when I travel to other countries, countries with rich and fabled histories, and come upon a McDonald’s sandwiched (pun intended) in between buildings from the 14th or 15th centuries or in places of historical significance.

It would seem many see having a McDonald’s—or Burger King or Subway or KFC—is a symbol of ones modernity and membership in the contemporary world.

But then again, one cannot stop “progress” and the fries are there to comfort you all the way.

I have no doubt should we ever reach the technological level of landing on and colonizing other planets, restaurants that serve fries will soon follow. Come to think about it, the “Golden Arches” might be a great symbol on the bow of our interstellar space crafts.

“Beam me up, Scotty and order me some fries.”

P.S. Let me know if this drove you to test my theory by visiting another uniquely American invention, one of the testaments to our greatness, the drive-up window. Nothing says success like dinner in a vehicle.

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

An Inexcusable Inequity

Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

Now let me preface this by saying I am not proposing any form of socialism as a solution. With all its flaws, the free market/capitalist system is, to paraphrase another comparison, the worst system of economics except for all the rest.

But with that said, here’s a bit of a quandary.

According to OXFAM.org, the 10 wealthiest people in the world, all men, increased their net worth from $700 billion pre-pandemic to $1.5 trillion in 2022.

To put those numbers into a meaningful perspective. If these gentlemen liquidated their assets into cash intending to spend it all, it might look like this. To do this, we must agree this is just a thought experiment and ignore that doing such a thing may not be as easy as it sounds.

Let’s say they decide to spend 100 million dollars per day. Please check my math on this but,

$1,500,000,000,000 divided by $100,000,000 equals 15000 days or 41 years.

Forty-one years at 100 million dollars a day to spend the 1.5 trillion dollars in net worth.

When you consider the number of humans living below the poverty level, or worse, the idea the 10 men control enough money that it would take decades at 100 million dollars a day to spend it all should give you pause.

Think about that next time you hear how the country is in debt. We cannot afford to house the homeless, solve the drug problem, or eliminate any other issues facing us today.

While I don’t think socialism is the answer, there should be some limit to the amount of wealth concentrated in the bank accounts of such few people.

There should be some way to apply a limit to the percentage of wealth concentrated within such a small percentage of the population.

In Newport, Rhode Island, there are testimonies to avarice and greed used to fund monstrous houses. The “Newport Mansions” were built at enormous cost, primarily from the profits from 1890 railroad magnates and other successful businessmen. Businesses that exploited the common laborers that made the businesses possible.

For example, one of these homes cost $12 million to build at the time. This is equal to $300 million in today’s dollars. And these were summer residences, some never used more than a week or two by the families who built them.

While one might argue that the carpenters, masons, electricians, plumbers, cooks, house staff, and caretakers benefitted from the construction, does that justify such an enormous expense that served no other purpose but as a symbol of extraordinary wealth?

Trickle-down economics sound plausible and beneficial, but the reality is entirely different.

Perhaps the structure of the tax laws needs to reflect a shared percentage of one’s wealth. Then everyone would pay the same portion of their earnings and assets. It is fundamentally unfair for someone with significant financial assets to take advantage of tax laws intended to offer incentives to people taking risks and starting businesses and turning them into vehicles to forego paying their fair share.

I don’t have the answer to the issue. But that doesn’t mean it is not appropriate to raise it for discussion. I just can’t help intuitively believing that something is fundamentally unfair in a world where it would take ten men forty-one years to spend all their wealth at one hundred million dollars a day.

We have only ourselves to blame for letting our political system be dominated by those who can afford to run for office or are willing to be paid to do so by those with a vested interest in maintaining the status quo.

And if you believe flawed individuals hold positions of power, that is on you. To quote Mahatma Gandhi,

“If there is an idiot in power, it is because those who elected him are well represented.”

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

A Nation that isn’t Broken…Yet

Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

There are books and words some demand we hide from those who are the most receptive to learn understanding, compassion, and reject hate. Not because these books are demonstrably wrong or prejudicial but because they clash with many Americans’ concept of the past and the reality in the country today. So history repeats itself because we allow the books about it to be burned and banned out of ignorance.

What’s this? You haven’t heard of this issue in, wait for it, Florida? The media, of course, got some facts wrong, but they got the gist of the story.

We've braved the belly of the beast.
We've learned that quiet isn't always peace,
And the norms and notions of what "just is"
Isn't always justice.

And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it.
Somehow, we do it.
Somehow, we've weathered and witnessed
A nation that isn't broken, but simply
unfinished.
Amanda Gorman, “The Hill We Climb”

A parent complained about a specific poem, The Hill We Climb, by Amanda Gorman. The poem read at the inauguration of President Joe Biden. The reason on the complaint form was (and I quote verbatim.)

“Is not educational and have indirectly hate messages,”

But don’t take my word for it. I’ve included an image of the actual complaint in this piece. The parent, Daily Salinas, and others also complained about several other books.

Ms. Salinas felt the need to file a complaint because the poem contained material that had no educational value and would indoctrinate those who read it to a certain political philosophy. She also claimed the poem was written by Oprah Winfrey—another understandable, if not entirely unexpected mistake since, well, you know those people all look alike—although it was actually written by Harvard graduate Amanda Gorman, (who knew such people went to Harvard,)

Words like this offended her,

“We close the divide because we know, to put our future first,
we must first put our differences aside.
We lay down our arms
so we can reach out our arms
to one another.
We seek harm to none and harmony for all.
Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:
That even as we grieved, we grew;
that even as we hurt, we hoped;
that even as we tired, we tried;
that we’ll forever be tied together, victorious,
not because we will never again know defeat
but because we will never again sow division.
Scripture tells us to envision
that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree
and no one shall make them afraid.
If we’re to live up to our own time
then victory won’t lie in the blade
but in all the bridges we’ve made.
That is the promise to glade,
the hill we climb
if only we dare it,
because being American is more than a pride we inherit —…”

Amanda Gorman “The Hill We Climb”

Well, I can certainly understand how these words can cause confusion and indoctrinate children. This obviously requires nay indoctrinates one to accept critical race theory, and it is eminently clear the complainant, Daily Salinas, is justified in her concern.

In her complaint she refers specifically to the passage that opened this piece,

We've braved the belly of the beast.
We've learned that quiet isn't always peace,
And the norms and notions of what "just is"
Isn't always justice.

And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it.
Somehow, we do it.
Somehow, we've weathered and witnessed
A nation that isn't broken, but simply
unfinished.
Amanda Gorman, “The Hill We Climb”

Now the media claimed the books were “banned” from the school, which is not the case. Instead, they were removed from the elementary school level and sequestered at the middle school level. 

One might argue that if there are kids in the school system competent enough to read that poem at the elementary school level, it reflects well on the system. Yet isolating specific material to age-appropriate access is the responsibility of the school administration.

But I suspect the reason used to justify the move is all smoke and mirrors. First, look at the complaint itself. It says the poem will “cause confusion and indoctrinate students.”

While parents should be involved in the school curriculum, it doesn’t mean they can demand that a confirmation of their own ignorance be part of the program.

Joe Broadmeadow

There is no mention of age appropriateness. So either the administration didn’t bother reviewing the books before they were on the shelves or they needed a convenient excuse to remove them and came up with the perfect cover story of age appropriate.

The poem and the related books discuss and illustrate the long-existing discrimination still rampant within the country. Something many would prefer to ignore as just a vestige of history and not relevant to public discourse today. And since prejudice and bigotry is a learned trait, isn’t confronting it as early as possible a better solution?

While parents should be involved in the school curriculum, it doesn’t mean they can demand that a confirmation of their own ignorance be part of the program.

If a parent were to demand all references to the Holocaust be removed from the school because they believe it never happened, would we comply? If a parent demanded the helio-centric theory of the solar system be banned because their religious tradition puts the earth at the center of the universe, would we allow it? If a parent demanded their female child only be taught practical domestic skills because they believe only a man should make all decisions within a family, would we ban all references to equality between men and women?

I think not.

There is also the fear—based primarily on willful ignorance—of “Critical Race Theory” (CRT), which has existed since the 1960s.

CRT gave rise to Critical Legal Studies (CLT), which claim that since legislation such as the Civil Rights Act of 1965, new laws have been devised to maintain the status quo within society and codify the biases against marginalized groups. Think of restrictive voting regulations and the watering down of anti-discrimination statutes.

Thus the convenient limiting of certain books and the rising trend of banning and restricting access.

I am sure there is also an element of laziness associated with this. Using an automated checkout device in a school library is much less costly or labor intensive than having a librarian monitor the material being checked out.

But this same technology could flag material based on the library id of the student and require an adult to allow the book’s checkout. Much like a 19-year-old grocery clerk asking me for my date of birth when I try to check out a bottle of wine at the supermarket.

So let’s not kid ourselves here. I’m willing to bet if a middle school student at that school tried to find the book, it would not be an easy task.

The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but covert actions of a more nefarious sort paint the lane markings.

Ms. Salinas and those who cheered the cause of banning that which they do not or will not understand got it wrong because they missed the poem’s best part.

And the real point here is the insidious and continuing spread of this vile and patently bigoted propaganda of indoctrination and “recruitment” of children.

Ms. Salinas is just another blind sheep following the Siren’s call of racism dressed up as conservative educational policy.

While educational material should always be age appropriate, it should not be compromised by those who refuse to accept there are different views of the world and different paths through life.

Given the choice, I would wager Ms. Salinas and those who agree with her would have all this material banned from all grades because it contradicts their view of history and reality. The administration is to be commended for keeping the material at an appropriate level, but I would keep a wary eye on just how supportive they really are of utilizing a wide spectrum of material to offer a well-rounded education.

Given the current trend in Florida, and the potential for one of the chief architects of these restrictive policies to become President, we must be vigilant in recognizing bigotry and hatred no matter how benign it may seem on the surface.

There are no better words to describe the situation in this country than those of Amanda Gorman herself…

A nation that isn't broken, but simply
unfinished...
Amanda Gorman “The Hill We Climb”

In case you’ve never read the poem, here it is. Read it, I promise you will not be assimilated into the Borg.

https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2021/01/amanda-gormans-inauguration-poem-the-hill-we-climb/

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

The First Step: Admit There’s a Problem

Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

“Hi, my name is Joe and I am an addict.”

This is so hard for me to say, but it is time I admitted it and faced the problem. I am a bookaholic. I have books everywhere. When we travel, I hide them in suitcases in case my Kindle dies.

I cannot walk by a bookstore without looking.

My Kindle is close to capacity with over 3000 books.

My addiction is enabled by the proximity of my thumb to the “buy now” button on my Kindle device.

There is no such thing as a book I won’t read. I read the Book of Mormon. I’ve read Mein Kampf. I’ve read the Iliad and the Odyssey (twice), and Beowulf. The Bible, The Qur’an, Judaic Texts, Nordic Myths. Books about Zoroastrianism, Hinduism, Buddhism. I’ve read L. Frank Baum’s Wizard of Oz (all the books), The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and the Foundation Trilogy. I’ve read almost everything from Stephen Hawkins, Lawrence Krauss, Neil deGrasse Tyson, Michio Kaku, and Brian Greene, even though my understanding of cosmology is basic at best.

I’ve read books by heroes, villains, saints, sinners, old, young, intellectual, moronic, and everything in between.

I am reading all of the books I haven’t read on these idiotic banned book lists. So far, no desire for a dickectomy or, in the event I changed my mind, went ahead with it, then regretted it, an addadicktomy. Not one indication of any improvement to my fashion sense either.

And one book at a time is not enough. I am always reading more than one at the same time. Right now it is “Gideon’s Trumpet (rereading), “The Knowledge Illusion,” and “The Dutch House.” Just last night, before I realized I must admit to the problem, I read a chapter in two books and a chapter and a half in another.

Then, since one book was a nonfiction with references and footnotes, I bought two more books.

I just can’t stop myself. As a kid, in what can only be described as a prelude to this future addiction, I read the Encylopedia from “A to Anno” to “Z to Zyzomys.” Weird doesn’t even come close.

And, as if that is not enough, I reread books all the time. I’ve read Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Universe at least three times, Carlos Castenda’s books twice, and I can’t even number the times I’ve read Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels and a Modest Proposal.

I’ve lost count on those.

Even if I were to read 3 books a week—which I have been known to do and surpass—it would take me 20 years just to finish the ones I already have. But I know there’ll be links to new books by authors I’ve read before and new authors I have yet to discover.

Kindle ads are a Siren’s Song to me. NY Times Best-Seller lists are irresistible.

That 20 years will stretch on forever. Maybe, this is the key to immortality? Just keep reading.

Nirvana or how I would imagine Heaven

In considering what point in my life, and under what circumstance I might find myself, where I would no longer want extraordinary measures to keep me alive, the ability to read is a major consideration.

So, I am here to say I am a bookaholic. I am uncertain if the last book I will ever read is already on my Kindle or in my bookcase or yet to be written. But this is one addiction I choose to embrace and share with others, given the chance.

Someone once told me everything you want to know can be found in a book, the joy comes from looking for it.

And speaking of which. Here is a link to my books on Amazon. Come on, share this addiction with me.

This is going to be an exciting year for me. Stay tuned for two new books by me coming soon! Title and cover reveal this summer!

And if you ever wonder what to get me for a special occasion, or just because, check my Amazon book wish list. There are hundreds there as well. Don’t consider it enabling, consider it an example of your empathy and humanity.

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

Serendipity of Enormous Consequence

Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

A recent posting on a site related to the East Providence Police Department, where I served for 20 years, brought back many memories. A police clerk with the department, Alyssa Cadoret, did a magnificent job of memorializing department members—many of whom I worked with—who have since passed away.

Courtesy of Alyssa Cadoret, East Providence Police Department

This got me thinking about how our lives often take routes one would never imagine, and how I went from Cumberland, RI, to become an officer with the East Providence Police Department.

For most people, there is always a place you consider home even if you no longer live there. For me, that place is Cumberland.

Of the 66, soon to be 67, years I’ve lived on this planet, it seems strange to me that the place I’ve lived just 12 of those years is the place I still think of as home. It is the automatic answer—one I have to catch and correct myself—to the question; where are you from? I haven’t been “from” there in a very long time.

It wasn’t the place of my birth. That was Pawtucket, RI. Home from the moment of birth until I was 5.

It wasn’t the place I’d lived the longest. That was Seekonk, MA, for 18 years. Yet it is Cumberland that still seems like the foundation of what I consider home.

The Cumberland connection played the most significant part in setting the course of my life. But this life-altering effect needed a few things; a Latin class, a hernia, and a blizzard.

Upon starting the transitional year of 8th grade—the bridge between grammar school and high school—I would meet a few people who would have a lifelong impact on my life. This story concerns just one of them. And it is the serendipitous happenstance of that friendship which, when one reviews all the elements, seems so remarkable considering the lack of connectedness between some aspects.

In that Introduction to Latin class, the teacher assigned me the Herculean task of raising the dismal grade of one Ralph Ezovski. While I am uncertain if my efforts paid off or if the kindly Gregorian Chant-loving teacher, John Needham, just took pity on both of us, we both survived the class.

Ralph passed the class, and a lifelong friendship began.

The Cumberland connection played the most significant part in setting the course of my life. But this life-altering effect needed a few things; a Latin class, a hernia, and a blizzard.

Joe Broadmeadow

Here’s where it gets strange.

Upon graduation from high school, Ralph enlisted in the Army. I went to PC. These career choices didn’t pan out for reasons that remain a mystery. Me for lack of discipline in the free world of class attendance, Ralph, because of a pre-existing but undetected hernia.

The Army gave Ralph a choice: get an operation to correct the condition and recycle back to week one of basic training or simply be honorably discharged. In a preview of Ralph’s later brilliance as a police officer and union negotiator, Ralph opted to return home. The Army was all the poorer for it. For me, it altered my destiny.

In the meantime, I decided the United States Air Force, through the Rhode Island Air National Guard, seemed an excellent way to change my bad habits.

Fast forward to 1978. Ralph is now a Police Officer in East Providence, RI, and I am awaiting the beginning of the interview process for the Rhode Island State Police. All seems right with the world.

Then, the storm of the century hit Rhode Island—the Blizzard of ’78—and they canceled the interviews. Then, after the state dug out of the mountains of snow, the State Police postponed the planned academy.

Now what?

Once again, my Latin buddy connection rose to the occasion. “Apply for East Providence PD,” he said. Of course, being the typical Rhode Islander, I said, “I’m not even sure where East Providence is.”

So Ralph got the application, tracked me down to sign it, and submitted it on my behalf. And this led to a most enjoyable and exciting twenty-year career with EPPD.

Yet, if John Needham had made a different choice for Latin Buddies. If Ralph hadn’t somehow suffered a hernia before joining the Army. If the blizzard of ’78 had never happened. Who knows what might have been?

And when I watched the video showing the faces of so many members of the East Providence Police Department with whom I worked, it reminded me how fortunate I was to be a member of that highly respected department.

A Latin teacher, a hernia, and a blizzard set me on a course I could never have imagined and wouldn’t change for the world.

Serendipity hardly comes close.

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

Everything You Need to Know About Life: The Wizard of Oz

Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

I had the unique opportunity to see the Wizard of Oz—my all-time favorite movie—on the big screen for the first time.

The novelty of the experience rivaled the first time I got to see the movie on a color TV. Before that moment, the entire experience was in black & white. (Yes, there was a time when TV was only black & white and you had to turn the volume up to drown out the sounds of the dinosaurs roaming in the yard.)

But this moment was just as magical. Seeing the performance once again, something I used to look forward to on an annual basis—when there was no such thing as “on demand”—gave me an opportunity to remember how special the whole story is.

Now, I’ve read the L. Frank Baum books about Oz, but I harbor no delusions of being a persuasive enough writer to inspire people to undertake such an adventure. Yet, I am certain I can get some to watch the movie again and consider the lessons it teaches.

If we want to raise generations of wise, kind, courageous, and curious humans, their education can be best served by merely showing them the Wizard of Oz. Maybe not as many times as I’ve seen it—my guess is at least fifty—but more than once so the wisdom can permeate their minds.

Keep in mind children are born selfish and without empathy. From the moment of their first breath, their only concern is themselves. They have no hesitation in making their demands even if their parents are exhausted, asleep, busy, ill, or otherwise unfocused on them. It is on us to teach them patience, empathy, compassion, tolerance, and self-reliance

Enter the Wizard of Oz. One can learn about all the elements of life within this production.

If you’ve seen the movie, and give it a minimal consideration, the lessons fairly jump out at you. But here’s a list in case you missed them.

A family sometimes doesn’t have a mom and dad. Sometimes, things happen and children are raised in an entirely different environment. An aunt and uncle and three caring farmhands who all contribute are as much a family as any other.

Authorities often cater to people who hold power over others, usually through wealth or property, and try to assert control over the weak. But even a tiny dog and a determined little girl can thwart such plans.

Bad things will happen. It’s how we react to these moments, not what happened, that matters. By caring for others as much as we care for ourselves, we show true humanity. And sometimes, a bit of misdirection by a kindly traveling man and his horse, Sylvester, can show a person the error of their ways.

In the face of disaster, some politicians will be nowhere to be seen. As soon as it is resolved, these absent stuffed shirts emerge to take credit and lay blame.

And right along with the politicians will be a few lawyers demanding “…but we have to verify it legally…”

Belief that someone or something has magical power over you can make a powerful prison. Until someone comes along and drops a house on the “magical” being and shows them not to be immortal. Fear of something can be a powerful jailer only if you allow it.

Whenever one needs to do something, start at the beginning. One step at a time and never give up.

Brains are overrated unless they are tempered by compassion.

And no better lesson about the joy of having a heart than the words of the Wizard himself….

“Remember, my sentimental friend, we are judged not by how much we love, but by how much we are loved by others.”

Wizard of Oz

Courage isn’t something shown by those who are unafraid but by those who act despite their fear.

When you reach a crossroads, you can often find help from the most unexpected places and the least expected people. Therefore, one should always be open to new possibilities.

If one is willing to deprive another of their life for your own selfish purpose you will suffer the unintended consequences of your greed.

Something pleasing to the eye is not always good for us.

Never be afraid to challenge someone, even if they command armies of flying monkeys. The simplest things often defeat the mighty.

And a corollary to the last item, never keep the source of your own destruction nearby.

Just because someone appears in your life as if by magic—or on a conveyance you have never seen before—is no reason to bestow a position of authority. Not even a Wizard Deluxe.

But keep in mind, even a humbug, a fraud, a wizard of smoke and mirrors, can be a good person just not a good wizard or any other manner of leader.

And most importantly, we all possess the power to go home, even if that home no longer exists. We can return to our roots and realize that what we most desire is often no further away than our own backyard. It may not be the same for all of us, yet that is the power of the story. Home is indeed where the heart is.

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

The Name Game

Around the time of our grandson’s first birthday, I wrote a piece about what he might call me. Here’s a link to the original.

He has gone through several iterations of my title. Since his mimicking skills grow exponentially with each moment—more on that later—some of the have been quite funny.

He’s called me Joey, Buddy, and then settled on Fata (a shortened version of grandfather we assumed.)

But now he seems to prefer my title to be the full formal, Grandfather.

“Grandfather, go outside!”

“Grandfather, go to slide!”

“Grandfather, read books!”

His calling me grandfather gives the household a bit of a regal air. Like British aristocracy or other royal lineage.

He will occasionally slip back to the Joey when he hears my wife use the name, but he seems to be good with Grandfather for now.

“Come on, grandfather.”

“Let’s go, grandfather.”

“See you tomorrow, grandfather.”

As the normal course takes place, I assume the formality will fade and be replaced with a shortened version. But for now, I shall bear the burden of the Grandfather crown with great joy.

P.S. To get back to his mimicking skills, I fear he also has acquired the Broadmeadow sense of humor. One of his favorite sayings—which no one will lay claim to uttering in his presence—is holy shit. The funny part is, he almost always uses it in the appropriate context.

The other day we took him to Petco to look at the fish (Hey, it is a free aquarium!) He spotted his beloved trash truck and we had to watch the ceremonial dumping of a huge dumpster. The driver, as he was leaving, saw Levi waving and gave a good long blast on the horn.

“Holy Shit” Levi yelled, nearly jumping out of his skin.  And don’t ever make the mistake of letting him see a smile in reaction. Holy shit turns into a full chorus repeated in between giggles for as long as he cares to.

He has another one that we are all certain he learned from his mother (don’t tell her I reported this) that relates to an incident where another driver cut off my daughter. Thus, every time someone hits the brakes we get a very clear, very understandable, “what the f&^%& are you doing?”

I can’t wait for the calls from school.

Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.