There are few things I love more than a good apology. The ones free of excuses, the kind that accept blame and try to make amends for it.
The kind that do not take away the hurt but assure you the pain had purpose and hopefully will not return.
This morning, I issued one of those apologies.
This afternoon, I awaited one of those apologies and was left with a sorry — a far cry from an apology.
Thus, my thirty minute commute to Cafe Mustache on the northwest side for a good cup of free coffee, I listened to Vampire Weekend's "I Stand Corrected" on repeat. Nothing better than a musical apology:
You've been checking on my facts
And I admit I have been lax
In double-screening what I say
It wasn't funny anyway
I stand corrected
No one cares when you are wrong
But I've been at this far too long
To act like that when we should be
In perfect harmony
I stand corrected
Lord knows I haven't tried
I'll take my stand
One last time
Forget the protocol
I'll take your hand
Right in mine.
Here's to many more apologies: honest ones and ones faked; musical and not; for big things and small; given and received.
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