I’ve been inspired by watching our President travel the world apologizing for America, so I decided to follow his example.

Someone once said confession is good for the soul. I forget who. Perhaps a Priest, since they hear confessions regularly. Or, maybe a federal prosecutor.

Anyway, watching President Obama deliver apologies to everyone except the native Hawaiians in his home state -- there’s still time for that -- I decided I need my own apology tour. Unfortunately, I don’t have a Boeing 747 for my personal use, so I’ll do it from here at my keyboard.

First, I apologize to Charlie Bonner. We were in the first grade together. He was black and I white. Since we had eyes, we knew we were different colors, but didn’t care a whit about it. During horseplay before class, I tackled Charlie and he chipped a front tooth on a playground stone. I felt bad about it. He just shrugged.

The school principle called me to her office later and interrogated me, without waterboarding. She wanted to make sure we hadn’t been fighting. Satisfied with my innocence, she released me into the custody of Charlie and my class.

If you’re out there Charlie, I’m still sorry about your tooth and hope you’ve replaced it with a new one, by growth or purchase. You knew I meant no harm, but the President has me in an apologetic mood.

Second, I apologize to Mary Jones. That’s not her real name. She may be an American Thinker reader; she was real smart in school. I think I’ll also steer clear of the grade level. Let’s just say we were old enough to consensually kiss without legal repercussions.  

My buddies asked me how our “date” went. I reported the kissing incident; they asked for details. In a moment of brash insensitivity for which I herein apologize, I likened the event to making lip-to-lip contact with a refrigerated fish. I shudder to recall it even now. And, for that improper, though moderately accurate, metaphor, I apologize.

And lastly, in a style more like the President’s apologies, I’m sorry for the way P.T. Barnum exploited the pachyderm he named King Tusk, the Crown Jewel of India.

King Tusk was huge, with tusks six and a half feet long and over a foot in diameter.  Too big to travel on trains, he moved around in a custom built tractor-trailer. Ate eight watermelons a day to keep up his strength to perform.   

But life must have been hard on King Tusk. Bad things go on behind the closed flaps of circus tents.  I boycott them.

In 2002, he was euthanized at age 57. He eventually developed osteoarthritis from years of being chained, and it became progressively hard for him to move around. He spent his last years at an elephant retirement facility in Florida.
 
So I to apologize on behalf of all those who watched Tusk perform without seeing his ordeal.
 
I’m just happy that doesn’t include me.