Many years ago, an old flame unexpectedly called me to request a meeting. I suggested we meet at Berghoff’s basement restaurant, a wonderful (and neutral) place that I sorely miss. After a few sips of beer and as lunch was placed before us, the small talk ceased and the real reason for the meeting commenced. Up to that point I was clueless as to why we were meeting, which was probably the original sin in the first place.
She was there to apologize for her behavior twenty years ago. As I looked back, I was as much to blame, but nonetheless I quietly listened and resisted the urge to implicate myself. I do not know how much time elapsed but when I finally looked up there stood the entire black and white clad staff looking at us, the only people left in the restaurant. We quickly went our ways. It was an odd moment that shame had provoked, and forced me to evaluate my past behavior.
The country needs to reconcile, and it might not be a bad idea to do it over lunch and a beer. It has been done in many places: South Africa, Vietnam, and Europe after WWII. We need to do this before it becomes necessary to have a repeat of the Nuremberg trial.
In a way, the lies and conspiracy theories remind me of the hysteria before the Millennia. I certainly understood that there might be a software glitch but I failed to see how this was going to lead to the rapture. About three months before the end of the world, I received my new Visa card with an expiration date of 3/2003. If I had any doubts about the earth continuing to orbit the sun on New Years this allayed my fears.
And speaking of the Millennia, I have faith in the Millennial’s and in the generations that follow them to force their parents and grandparents to deal with their shame in a constructive, no matter how grudgingly, fashion. Who doesn’t want a better life for their grandkids, a life full of joy and not hate, a life full of hope and not shame. I’ll drink to that!
February 2021
