AN APOLOGY

Come the new year, people the world over make resolutions, intent on leaving the previous year behind. Their mistakes, their laziness, and their cowardice, all thrown in a heap in the backyard and lit on fire. Next year, they claim, they will run a marathon, be more honest with themselves, and finally divorce the dick they agreed to marry when they were 21 and didn't know any better. But rarely do you see the great grievances of the past year aired and catalogued for posterity's sake. So, in an effort to look behind and not forward, I've decided to write down some of the larger errors of judgments I've made this past year. Hopefully, when/if similar situations arise this year, I'll be able to recognize them as being problematic and, with some luck, to avoid them.

First of all, I just want to say that I'm sorry I convinced you to get a hysterectomy. In retrospect, it was a bad idea. Especially considering all the difficulty we've been having with the adoption agency. I'd also like to say - again - that it was really juvenile of me to say that the operation was "hysterecal", just because the doctor wasn't licensed and you had to stay in the hospital for two weeks. It was a truly awful pun, and a "hystoric" mistake on my part.

Last year, as you know, was not good for me, financially speaking. In hindsight, it was a mistake to bet my holiday bonus with that guy on the train. Considering the fact that he was a film historian, it seems obvious to me now that he would have known whether or not Gene Hackman starred in "Logan's Run". What can I say? LSD makes you say some crazy things, sometimes.

I'm sorry I stole your sister's car. Really, though, it seemed like she wanted me to take it.

According to my lawyer, getting involved in Big Brothers/Big Sisters was a big mistake, especially with the trial coming up this month. Still, I feel like my biggest lapse in judgment was buying those magazines over the internet, where, apparently, people can track that sort of thing.

Also, I'm aware that I should not have begun singing "The Final Countdown" at your mother's funeral. I had just listened to "Jock Jams" on the drive over, and it was totally in my head. In addition, I'd like to reiterate that I really did drop my lucky quarter in the casket and was trying to retrieve it, even though it looked like I was removing your mother's broach.

I should have told you about the polyps. That much is clear to me now.

Finally, I'd like to say that I'm sorry I told you I'd meet up with you in Bahrain, on April 25, at 9:00AM, at the steps of the Barbar Temple, right next to the newspaper stand. I was going to go, but then this thing came up, and then the game was on. I thought about giving you a call, but, well, you know how it goes.