You know already that I love my calling as a blogger. What you might not know — at least not yet — is that I also love the critics who read this blog.

I’ll admit that my love for them is more of a “biblical” nature. But I love them nevertheless.

Back when I was working for a living, I found that critics performed a service for me. They kept me humble. They occasionally would chastise for something I wrote and then might offer a perspective I hadn’t considered. On the rarest of occasions, I might change my mind on an issue.

I also provided a service to them. I figure it was of a more health-related nature. They would read my columns or editorials that I authored for a newspaper and they would hyperventilate. Then they would call me up, chew my rear end out, have their say, hang up and perhaps feel better having gotten whatever bothered them off their chest.

I only can presume that I had oxygenated their blood sufficiently during their rants to cleanse their cardiovascular system.

Just don’t call me “Doctor,” OK? Fine.

My blog critics do the same thing for me and I do the same perhaps for them.

I don’t cherish these individuals, mind you. I accept that every commentator — whether he or she works for a publication or is “self-employed,” so to speak, as I am, cannot possibly please everyone who reads their words.

And yes, High Plains Blogger critics continue to keep me humble. I long have subscribed to the tenet of taking my work far more seriously than I take myself. That tenet holds true to this day.

Keep the criticism coming. Yes, I like the praise more than the criticism. The critics, though, keep me on my toes.