To Whom It May Concern

It must feel horrible to return to your favourite bar and find it completely changed – filled with the type of people you beat-up frequently. And it must make you sad inside when you order a pint of your favourite mass-produced beer and are told that only local microbreweries are on tap. But can’t you see the ridiculousness in your loud statement “I don’t want any of that yuppie piss! Just give me a bottle of Bud!”? Look around you angry new friend – our pint glasses are filled with beers so dark and strong and black you can’t see light through them. Yet you call this “piss” and order a Bud? Can’t you see the irony in that? I am eager to point it out, but am pretty sure you would punch me in the face and neck.

I owe you an apology. It was the dawn of networked computers and I was an extremely awkward 14 year old – terrified of teachers and authority in general. I think it was you that discovered in computer class how to send a message from one computer to another. This was the eighties and amazed us! The delight we took in sending random messages to unsuspecting classmates – strange and foreign words popping up on their black and white screens. Even in this primitive form, the anonymity of the “internet” emboldened me.  I was about to send out a message somehow implying that our quiet, middle-aged teacher was a woman posing as a man – and he caught me with the words still on my screen! I panicked – saying that they had come onto my screen via the network. My heart was pounding as he stood over me questioning me about who had been sending these messages – I was sweating and light headed! You weren’t there that day and because of this I named you.

I have no excuse. No excuse for lying to protect myself and in doing so wrongly accusing you. No excuse for my extreme short-sightedness – you’d return soon enough and my lie exposed! Before the next class one of our friends briefed you on what had happened – what I had done. When our teacher began his announcement about misuse of the network – then addressing you in particular I was convinced that I was going to pass out. Convinced that you would explain that it was me. I’m not sure if I was more afraid of being disciplined for the actual deed or of having my cowardliness revealed! As our teacher stood there berating you in front of the class, you sat silent – you just took it! And when he had finished, letting you off with a warning, you simply turned your head and gave me a wry smile.

While you had every right to clear your name – you did not. You were a man, while I was still just a boy.

All in all, you weren’t bad to work for. But please understand – it was very demoralizing to have to take orders from someone who thought raccoons lay eggs.

(ps. raccoons do not lay eggs.)