Way back when, I worked as a process server, delivering subpoenas and summonses on behalf of the court. Not one of the recipients of these court orders was ever happy to see me. In fact, several of them unleashed their dogs on me, took swings at me, and tried to run me down with their cars.

One Mother's Day, though, I helped a friend of mine deliver flowers. It was such a joy to see people smile when they answered the doorbell.

Funny how life repeats itself.

These days, when I write reviews of golf equipment, courses, and resorts, I realize that being completely honest doesn't make a person too many friends.

When I criticize some utterly worthless practice aid, an absurdly over-priced golf club, or a snooty golf club, readers tend to react as if I'd just tossed a subpoena at them. They write in and call me names like "moron," "idiot," and "Dick Cheney."

So when I read the multitudinous responses to my recent story on golf author Bob Thomas, I feel like I'm delivering flowers again.

Clearly, Thomas's books not only highlight the best in golf, they also bring out the best in golf readers.

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