A couple days ago there was an article in The Wall Street Journal about people offering decades old apologies through the internet.

There are even online websites to help with the job—ThePublicApology.com and PerfectApology.com.

The premise, of course, is that everyone is sorry about something and carries a burden of guilt that they need to unload from their chest.

Hmmm.

Who did I need to offer an apology, and how come my mind's suddenly gone blank?

Nothing was keeping me awake at night, but I do own a constantly working mouth, so I’m aware that there must be a whole slew of people I’ve inadvertently or directly insulted.

It took a couple minutes.

Ah. How could I forget that things never seemed fair in grade school, and if I became unhappy, I simply told the teacher off.
Take for example our assistant principle Miss Hausner (I’m talking Bagley Elementary School in the fifties, Detroit).

The woman was an old maid who never had a good day—or probably a decent lay. Not once did I remember her grinning, or even attempting to. She’d stand in the hall and shoot deadly looks, her inner tube-like boobs landing at the belt of her old lady shirtwaist dresses.

She’d stop me for talking, walking too fast, sneering at her the way she sneered at me.

That final time I gave her a piece of my mind. I heard she wrote me up, but from then on, she turned away whenever I sauntered into the hall.

No, I don’t feel badly about speaking the truth, but maybe I have second thoughts about the names I used to call my brother.

I thought I was torturing him, which was of course my intent, by describing the kid as a shrimp and a punk, among other things. There. I admit it.

Truthfully, I just remembered those tiresome words as I was writing this blog.

But I offer my sincere apologies while I'm grateful it didn’t do a thing to tarnish his self-esteem.

So what do acts of contrition accomplish after all these years?

According to the Journal, people suddenly find that sloughing off the guilt brings an instant high—better than Rolaids for bringing on relief.

Apologies show that people still care, and it seems that people apologize for everything: lost library books, broken dates, cheating on tests, firing employees, telling a sister not to marry her now long time husband, even taking cuts in line.

In a way it’s kind of sweet. You receive a little surprise package—much like a morsel of manna when you weren’t even scrounging for food.

So Jeff, hope it feels good, even after fifty years.