Open Letter: Dear Tim Cotton, Bangor Maine Police Department

Dear Tim Cotton,

I read your note (below) regarding the number of messages you get from people who are upset about something you said or wrote on the Bangor, Maine Police Department's Facebook page. Personally, I love your sometimes sardonic humor, as I have a sarcastic nature myself, and often have to bite my tongue to keep from saying what I really want to say. I wish I had a quarter for every time I've refrained from firing back at someone who insults me. Perhaps then, I would have enough change to do several loads of laundry. It has been piling up since our country, for reasons unknown to me, seems to be short on change. Yes, the innuendo is intended. But that is a conversation for another time.

I can relate to being misunderstood when my intentions are harmless. I can also relate to having people criticize me because they are mean, spiteful, resentful, jealous or just plain bored.

Years ago, when I was on TV in Tampa, Florida, I would get complaints from people who were unhappy with my face, hair, wardrobe, etc. The one comment I will always remember came from someone who did not like my "saucer eyes." I was young and naive, so I did not realize this was racially sensitive and shaded my genetic makeup. There was no such thing as trending hashtags at the time. My feelings were hurt, but I moved on.

Here are two more examples from the many I could share if you wanted to read a thesis. However, I know you have more important things to do and hyperbolize about:

A few years ago, we thought it would be funny to record a video of my then morning show male cohost attempting to put makeup on my face. We shared this on social media to most of our listeners' amusement. However, there was one older lady who shamed me, basically calling me a tramp for allowing someone other than my husband to touch my face. I wanted to reply, but I sat on my hands because I knew it wouldn't do any good to try to reason with someone who grew up in a different era, with different values.

More recently, a woman bullied me on Facebook for a few weeks before she eventually found some other life purpose. She called me names I cannot repeat here, except for one G-rated one -- "crybaby" -- because I share my childhood stories with my listeners. I grew up all over the world as a military brat, under the strict, watchful eye of a widowed father. I've been given the impression at other radio stations where I've worked that my many anecdotes are relatable, or at least entertaining… but obviously not to her.

Let me get to my point, as I have written about 500 words, and taken up enough of your precious time. I will sum this up by asking you to please continue to do and be you. For every one petty person you may piss off, I am willing to bet there are a hundred more who are delighted with your wonderful stories and adages.

And most importantly, thank you for being you.

Sincerely,

Nikki Cruz