Ah, spring! That glorious time of year when the colors erupt and life blooms and promise renews itself and a young man’s fancy turns to –
Well, yeah, sort of. I mean, the long winter’s nap thing is over and done and the singularly grey veil of the cold and flu season has lifted away to reveal a more optimistic future. Sins of the past give way to contrition and forgiveness.
So, I’m sorry. Very sorry. Really, truly sorry. Honestly so sorry! Sorry for the hurtful names, the unfortunate blemish, the ridiculous sweater, the bad judgment regarding the calamari, the key lime pies, the preset buttons on the car radio dial, the laundry mix-up, the Teapot Dome Scandal, losing the hide-a-key, the Colonel’s secret recipe, Mexican cornbread, the UPN Network, waking you up that time I had way too much Wink soda and tripped over your grandpa’s ashes, Anne Boleyn, political action committees, polyunsaturated fats and The Fat Boys in Disorderlies.
I’m sorry for my gambling problem, doing the TV Guide crossword in pen, taping over that Hallmark Hall of Fame special you liked so much, the 1968 Democratic National Convention, ear mites, vegemite, climate change, shampoo and conditioner all-in- one, cargo pants and Clutch Cargo.
I’m sorry for the botulism, the flatulence, the cheating, the gentrification, the urbanization, the electrification, the magnification, the saturation, the irradiation, under- utilization and the self-flagellation. I’m sorry for the Texas Prairie Chicken, Kentucky Bourbon, the Utah Jazz, the Louisiana Purchase, the Washington Monument, the Pennsylvania Dutch, the Oregon Trail, the Florida Keys and the Iowa caucuses.
I’m sorry for Brussel sprouts, Greek salads, English muffins, French fries, Canadian geese, Brazil nuts, Spanish fly and Jordan almonds.
And I’m really, really, really, really sorry about that whole Jesse Camp thing. Although MTV and the Vatican bear some of the blame on that one.