My annoying ways.

I annoy people. More than I please people. And that’s all right. Because my mission in life stops short of being a pleaser. Maybe I was brought up. To be a people-pleaser. To please my mother. If no one else. Though she would have liked me to be a pleaser. In general. To obey the rules of society.  To do things the conventional way. But I was born to be a misfit. A maverick. Unconventional. For me, that meant doing what comes naturally. No matter the rules. Discovered soon. That I like to write. About my feelings. About right and wrong.  About life, period. And if people didn’t like the way I expressed myself – well, then that was their problem.  I was entitled to my opinion. I even had the right to become a fool. And to poke fun at people. Including myself. And I questioned everything. The stuff I was being taught.  Much of it was malarkey. Lies. Fabrications. Distortions. I was being hoodwinked. At first, I didn't know it. Being a naive youngster. I was duped for a while. Until maybe after I got out of the third grade. By the sixth grade, I was publishing my own neighborhood newspaper. Reported neighborhood scandals and other goings-on. Much of it in satirical vein.  Yes, knew then that I was destined to be a newspaper reporter.  With a goal of stirring  controversy. And not caring if that happened to annoy people. –Jim Broede