People who know me will tell you how happy I am, virtually all the time. One can tell this just by looking at me. It is that obvious. I have been humbled many times by people telling me how much they either appreciate what I write, how much I have guided them and, to my embarrassing discomfort, how fascinating they think I am. I find that fascinating. Some, who have not met me in person, have even commented as to what an attractive man I am. What? I'm sorry, but I just don't see any of it. Handsome, I might concede with some arm twisting. They obviously haven't seen me when I'm not sucking my beer-gut in. Then again, they might have had one drink too many, which dulls the sense of sight. Some men suffer from this malady more than they'd admit. As for those who praise my work, their response to my heartfelt denial of said praise is for them to prove they actually read my posts by throwing my own words back at me, "I am my own worst critic."
If you’d like to take a shot at me, I have pretty good shoulders, and I welcome all constructive comments. But first, you’ll have to follow the attached link and finish reading this post: The Good We Do
