Have you ever done anything stupid? Awkward? Those funny interactions you wish you could take back but will stick with you forever? I have, of course. I cringe every time I remember. One time, in eighth grade, a girl asked me out — I believe the going phrase was, “Will you go with me?” — and I laughed in her face, because I thought she was making a joke. (Hmm, actually that was a sort of pleasant memory, because I wasn’t the one laughed at. And then later I did “go with” her. For a week. Middle schoolers are fickle.)

Or how about this: When I was in the Netherlands for the 1995 World Scout Jamboree, we had a campsite that was separated from other campsites by a water-filled ditch. People used to jump it all the time and cut through our site, which pissed us off. So, one day toward the end, as we were taking down camp, a couple of people tossed their sleeping bags across into our campsite. As they leaped over, I picked up one of the bags, looked one guy in the eye as he reached for it with a friendly smile on his face, and I said in a mean tone, “No trespassing.” Then I tossed the sleeping bag back across the ditch. Only it didn’t make it. That was one pissed foreign Boy Scout.

Or how about the time I stood on the balcony of my freshman dorm and peed on everyone who walked by? … Well, okay, I’m making that one up.

This one did happen though: When I was interviewing for a volunteer position at a veterans’ hospital a couple of years ago, I was asked why I wanted to work with veterans. And, in all seriousness, I said something like, “To have an experience of human misery.” And the interviewer turned to his partner and commented, “Hmm, human misery, that’s a new one.”

What was I thinking?

There have been far worse ones of course. Outbursts that have had far more consequences than a stupid anecdote.

I knew a guy in Boy Scouts for a long time. We were pretty good friends, but I made some mistakes. A few white lies and offhand comments turned into big rifts. I guess I didn’t see it coming, but after I went away to college, we didn’t stay in contact; and whenever I came back for breaks and holidays, he began avoiding me. He wouldn’t return any of my calls, and whenever I made plans to visit him, he would agree to be there but always wasn’t. Finally I gave up. I don’t know what he’s up to now. I’m afraid that some of the mistakes I made played a part in the loss of our friendship, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. I just hope he is happy and fulfilled and will one day be willing to speak to me again.

Hey, Steve, if you’re reading this, write or call me sometime. I’d love to know how you’re doing.