...why the gals in the Ladies Aid Society get offended.

Oh, I really can’t get too terribly annoyed when I read the nasty comments from my critics. That’s their outlet. Their way of venting. And good for them. If that’s what they need, so be it. Some folks are happy being unhappy. It’s as if they need a burden. They can’t live without a load on their minds. It makes them feel good. To suffer a little bit. A little like their Jesus on the cross. Maybe I misconstrue them. The same as they misconstrue me. I try not to dislike them. And I really don’t. I find it easier to ignore them. To laugh. To be amused. I suppose that’s not ignoring. It’s more a way of accepting them. Maybe I find them fascinating. That they get carried away the way they do. Well, I get carried away, too. In my own way. And they are doing it in their own way. I’m a bit crazy. And so are they. Some of ‘em cling together – in what I affectionately call the Ladies Aid Society. They are a community, of sorts. They get moral support from each other. Just as I get moral support from a handful of others. People like Rosie and Cherie. And yes, I think I am following the advice of some of my friends and acquaintances. To cool it. To be myself. And to allow others to be themselves. Oh, I like to poke at them. To make them think. To make them feel uncomfortable at times. Because that’s a way to stimulate thought. Any way, I don’t mind being held in disdain. That’s my badge of honor. Maybe I intimidate. Jeanne often told me that. I don’t think I consciously tried to intimidate. But Jeanne would eavesdrop on my conversations. My phone interviews. With politicians, for instance. And she told me I sounded so intimidating. Well, maybe so. Maybe it was that I wanted to take charge of the interview. To force an honest answer. To get to the core of an issue. To get to the meat. I suspect that’s why the gals in the Ladies Aid Society get offended. –Jim Broede