“Oops.”
Back in the mists of history — about the fifth grade, I think it was — a teacher informed me that my mouth seemed to operate a bit too much ahead of my brain. Since fifth-grade teachers are prone to such Delphic utterances, I just nodded and said “Yes, ma’am,” as I always did, and continued on my way, without the slightest idea what she was going on about.
Time has not improved my mouth-brain coordination, but over the intervening decades I’ve begun to understand what she meant.
Continue reading “Speak, Apologize. Repeat.”