In the summer of 2023, a fervent advocate for mistreated dogs got emotional on social media about a case in Fresno that was frustrating her.

In the process of trying to arouse outrage, she made a suggestion which turned out to be false. Wrong. A dangerous lie.

In an online video she suggested that a Thai restaurant next door to the place where a dog was tied up might be killing dogs and serving their meat. “Something needs to be investigated, because yeah now – heartbreaking as it is, it makes more sense that they are eating the meat and selling the meat – it is just – Oh my God, I can’t even…” She posted the address. She asked people to go there and check on the dog. She said the name of the restaurant. (“‘Thai’… I don’t know how to say that word. It’s connected to the house…. I think they’re the same owner.”) The video spread widely.

Wrong. She was completely wrong. The restaurant had nothing to do with the place next door. No one was selling dog meat. No one was eating dogs. No one was killing dogs.

A dog it is okay to eat, if you like cake.

As for the dog whose case had caught her attention, the Fresno police investigated and found the dog was not being abused, and also that it had since been returned to its original owner. They told her to stay away from the location or be charged with harassment. She posted, “I’m not staying away. I am gonna keep going… Something needs to be done, and I guess – breaking the law per se – by [air quotes] harassing, if that’s what they call it, it’s going to get everyone’s attention, so be it. And I think we should all do the same.”

The false accusation had caught the attention of people who were so angry at the idea of dogs being eaten that they threatened people at the restaurant. WHERE DOGS WERE NOT BEING EATEN. NO ONE WAS EATING DOGS. Often they tied the false idea of dog-eating to racist ideas about people from Thailand. They posted vicious fake reviews. Mostly they called or emailed to make threats but sometime they hung around the outside of the restaurant.

The owner, David Rasavong, was especially bothered by an elderly woman caller who screamed at him and then said. “Go back to the country you came from, you dog-eating motherfucker.” Even more, he was afraid for his parents, elderly immigrants who had been helping him in the restaurant.

He replied to all public comments he could find. He posted a video assuring people that the restaurant had nothing to do with the original dog complaint, and OF COURSE WE DON’T SERVE DOG MEAT, but it didn’t help. Because the racist fury continued, he closed the restaurant. Permanently.

More cake.

After a few days, the dog-welfare advocate posted on social media, asking people to leave the restaurant and its owner alone. She posted denying that she was racist. Because while she had mobilized people to harass the restaurant, other people were harassing her for that. They attacked her on social media, reposted her videos, and put up insulting fake profiles of her.

She was invited on local TV. She defended her actions. “I never once reached out to that restaurant and posted anything negative or not even… on Yelp.” The interviewer pointed out that she had posted on Facebook that she believed the restaurant was selling dog meat.

“At the beginning, yes. A lot of people believed that. A lot of people thought that they [the two buildings] were related and that they were connected together. Yes, a lot of people they believe that,” said the dog-welfare advocate. Then she backtracked, and said she never said that. “Now we’re demanding an investigation,” she said. “We’re demanding to make sure that the dogs are okay and it’s falling on deaf ears…” (It’s not clear how the one dog became “dogs.”)

She was upset that people said her remarks were racist, in connecting the idea of a Thai restaurant and the idea that people there might be serving dog meat. “Not once have I mentioned Asians in my videos, not once have I talked about a race…” She was not asked if she would have jumped to the same conclusion about an American-style restaurant.

She did apologize. In a video she said, “The situation got out of hand. I’d like to apologize. This is not the person I am. …It’s been a hard situation to handle…. I am sorry that David [the restaurant owner] and his family are going through this. There’s no justification for the hate that this has spit out. …It was not my intention for it to go this way.”

That’s a terrible apology. She doesn’t say what she did, and she doesn’t take responsibility. She doesn’t take the chance to say IT WASN’T TRUE. THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN. She’s sorry for herself.

On another occasion, she posted, “You accuse me of hate and what are you doing to me? …How hypocritical is that?”

This dog? Also a cake.

It’s a story about how a false racist rumor destroyed a small business. SorryWatch didn’t post about it when it happened. The accuser did not seem to be in good shape. It was too late to go to the restaurant. But recently the incident came to mind again, and we looked at more recent news stories, and found a [happy outcome].

During the dark times after the accusation (which was FALSE, please remember), owner David Rasavong felt isolated. He says even some reporters on the story assumed the accusation was true.

However, most people didn’t fall for the ridiculous story, and many wanted to support the family and their business. A property manager at a shopping center offered to let Rasavong take over a location vacated by another restaurant. A designer, an interior designer, and a painter donated their services. In late fall of 2023 the new restaurant, Love & Thai, opened to great acclaim. People especially praise the crispy pork belly.

We’re posting about this now because of a recent outcropping of vicious accusations that People from Other Places are eating dogs and cats. Accusations that are shutting schools, triggering death threats, and making innocent people live in fear. This is timeless slander to hurl at people in other groups. Not just Haitians, as in this recent calumny. Not just Thais or people from other Asian countries. Not just immigrants, either. Sumac remembers the late comedian Charlie Hill (Oneida Nation of Wisconsin) describing his surprise when he went to public school with White kids who insisted that his family ate dogs.

People with troubled minds sometimes find satisfaction in spreading this rumor – eating pets is horrible! People who eat pets are horrible! Let’s speak out against them! For the sake of the animals, let’s get up a mob!

We’d like to think that such accusations have a short life, that the destruction they cause will end soon. We must hope.

Sumac is at Burning Man, making it a good time to re-point your attention to Apologies From the Desert With No Pants On, one of our first popular posts. (How have we been doing this for over 10 years?!) If you or someone you love is currently in the desert, pants on or no, do pay a visit to Camp Playapology. FYI, Sumac will be giving a presentation there on Wednesday, August 30. at 3pm PDT.

Behold, a sneak peek of Playapology’s cards for this year!

We hope you’re staying safe and apologizing well, wherever you are.

Publication day for Sorry, Sorry, Sorry; The Case for Good Apologies is nigh!

On January 10, 2023, we’ll have our West Coast launch (that’s Susan/Sumac’s territory) at 7pm at Kepler’s Books & Magazines in Menlo Park, CA. We’ll be interviewed by the great radio host Angie Coiro for Kepler’s Literary Foundation. Info’s on the Kepler’s Foundation website, with tix available on Eventbrite. “Premier Admission” includes an autographed copy of the book.

Not this Kepler. (Also, this is clearly James Brolin.)

On January 13 at 7pm, we’ll have our East Coast launch at P&T Knitwear, a new bookstore (with a podcast space that’s open to the public, so cool) near Marjorie’s East Village, NYC home. Again, you can RSVP at Eventbrite. The reading’s free, or you can pre-order a signed book.

Not this knitwear. But Marjorie loves Rachel Antonoff sweaters.

It’s delightful to get to introduce our book at two indie bookstores, one that’s been around since 1955 and one that’s a newcomer. (Fun fact: The latter is called P&T Knitwear to commemorate a long-ago sweater store by that name in the neighborhood. It was started by the founder’s grandfather, Hymie Tusk, who survived the Holocaust, emigrated to NYC, and set up shop in 1952 with a business partner he’d met in a Displaced Persons camp.)

We’ll also be doing a book-club chat on The Inkwell, which is part of the longtime online community (since 1985!) The Well, where Susan and Marjorie first met in the ‘90s. Most of The Well is subscription-only, but The Inkwell, The Well’s author-interview space, welcomes anyone who wants to hang out. (The old-school interface is part of its charm. You’ll figure it out.) Check the site whenever you like between Feb 28 and March 13, engage with other readers, ask questions, discuss terrible apologies, and get a sense of how pleasant a non-Musk-y, non-Meta-y conversational space can be. Angie Coiro will be leading the conversation there, too.

Not this well. (But man, Julio Torres, co-writer of this short film, is a genius.)

We’ll announce more events as they come along. In the meantime, please enjoy the book trailer our lovely publisher made for us.

This apology from Aunt Jenny’s Beads hits all six of SorryWatch’s six steps to a good apology. 1. Aunt Jenny uses the word “sorry,” rather than “regret.” Regret (a statement that places primacy on how the speaker feels, rather than how the listener feels) makes us cranky. The way orange marshmallow circus peanuts do. 2. Aunt Jenny says what she’s sorry for. 3. Aunt Jenny takes responsibility. 4. Aunt Jenny makes no excuses. 5. OK, fine, Aunt Jenny doesn’t say how she’ll ensure it won’t happen again, but it’s not NECESSARY—sometimes things lurch into roadways, necessitating slamming on brakes! — so she gets a pass. 6. Aunt Jenny offers to make up what she did wrong (everyone loves free shipping!). Snarly was happy. And then Aunt Jenny fulfilled the “and a half” part of our six-and-a-half step apology process by listening to Snarly share her excitement about this apology.

Why do people collect souvenirs? We’re not sure, but we’ve felt that mysterious urge. Surely the important thing is the experience and the memory, not an object? And yet…

“Plymouth Rock” in protective custody.

If you buy a cheerful ashtray in Sicily to support their hand-painted pottery industry, that’s harmless. It celebrates the cool place you went. But what if you took a rock or a shell or a bit of mosaic or dug up a plant? You went to a cool place and made a bit less cool. You’re a cool-killer.

When Sumac was in first grade she was told Plymouth Rock was vanishing, because so many people chipped off pieces of it for souvenirs. She had to have “Plymouth Rock” explained. Later she learned the story of Plymouth Rock was sheer hooey, but it’s still obnoxious behavior on the part of credulous vandals.

“Plymouth Rock” can also designate a chicken. Nother can of worms.

Recently SorryWatch was tipped off to a book of letters from people returning things they’d stolen from a national park. Most apologized, some badly, some well. They didn’t have to face anyone, so there was less pressure from others. We wondered if that would make the apologies better.

The book is Bad Luck, Hot Rocks: Conscience Letters and Photographs from the Petrified Forest, by Ryan Thompson and Phil Orr.

For many years the museum at Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona had a big exhibit which promoted the legend that stealing pieces of petrified wood for souvenirs was BAD LUCK. It featured letters from people who had, over the years, stolen petrified wood and later returned it. Many of these letters stressed the terrible luck that had befallen people, and their hope that they could escape the CURSE by returning the booty.

At Petrified Forest National Park, petrified wood with photographer’s self-silhouette.

The museum doesn’t do this now. Probably because it’s not true that stealing petrified wood causes bad luck. Possibly because it wasn’t really an “Indian legend.” But a Smithsonian article about archaeological work at Pompeii shows the “steal-and-be-cursed” meme is alive. “I told a newspaper about the curse on objects stolen from Pompei,” the site’s general director Massimo Osanna said. In response they’ve received hundreds of stolen tiles, bricks, and fresco fragments – and letters bemoaning the thieves’ misfortunes.

But the museum at the Petrified Forest kept the letters in an archive, used for the book. It’s a great book, with photos of the rocks and of the letters. The letters are diverse – hand-written, typed, or printed with vanished computer technologies.

Petrified wood. It followed me home.

One 1984 letter is hand-printed on a prison letter form. “…since I took these pieces of wood from the forest it seems my life has gone down hill ever since. No matter how hard I try to make things right. I’ve been in jail most of the time, since I’ve been to the forest and my poor wife, who I dearly love, is ready to give birth to our third child. I hope by returning these pieces of wood my life will straighten out and got the way my wife and I want it to. I truly belive it will. If it does my wife and three children will be back to read this letter and see these pieces of wood in your case….”

How did the wood DO THAT? Because obviously it’s not the guy’s fault.

A scrawled cursive note from 1983 reads “Please put this back so my husband can get well. I tried to keep him from taking it.” and is signed “Distrout Wife”

An undated printout, all caps, says “The final straw was when I stepped thru the ceiling of our new house. That’s when I told my wife. I’ve had enough. I am sending it back.” Signed “Sorry in Texas.”

Also undated: “found this in my room you can have it back. It’s bad luck I got busted the other night”

This ancient petrified wood is amazing. I will never forget it, especially if I take some home with me.

In 1988, a typed letter detailed a family’s angst. “Enclosed are the causes of very bad luck,” it begins bitterly. No sooner had the writer and her father stolen some rocks en route to her sister’s house, than the father was bitten by the sister’s cat. The bites got infected. While at the emergency room, the sister got a call saying she was laid off. The next morning the handle broke off the toaster! Then they all had a “family fight.” Then the sister pointed out that stealing petrified wood was said to bring a curse. “I feel bad for taking my findings from the Petrified Forest, and I apologize for their removal. PLEASE return them to their rightful place in the crystalized forest.” Signed “Tracie.” (“My findings.” Yeesh.)

Toaster-breaking, passive-aggressive sister-blaming Tracie isn’t the only writer issuing instructions on exactly where to replace loot. (To its “rightful spawning ground,” as one person says.)

One astonishing letter includes sketches. Captions: “Replace here…” The writer says, “Enclosed you will find a few small pieces of petrified wood that I thoughtlessly took while there in the park this past August. Call it superstition or whatever but I feel that it belongs there and nowhere else.

“I am now writing a paper on Indian rock paintings and realize that the removal of these pieces goes against the Indians’ sense of oneness and harmony with their surroundings. I would very much like to return them to the spot personally but I dont’ know when I’ll be through that way again. So I would appreciate it if you would return them to the very spot from where they came: the Puerco Indian ruins. If you were to walk up from the lowest rock paintings it would be [between] the rocks and the two pueblo ruins would be appx. one hundred yards ahead on both sides. There is one small piece of wood embedded there with loose pieces all around, these pieces enclosed were among them.

“I hope that you will return them to the same spot and not just anywhere in the park…”

Yeah, no. The rangers don’t DO that. “Because of their unknown provenance, these specimens can not be scattered back in the park; to do so would be to spoil those sites for research purposes. They are instead added to the… ‘conscience pile,’ which sits alongside a private gravel service road,” the book explains.

You know what’s REALLY amazing? Pockets. What you can fit in pockets.

Some letters seem aggrieved. “My parents visited there last summer and… my mother purchased 3 petrified rocks. During that trip, my father picked one up from the grounds.

“Since that time, my father has lost his dad to cancer and my mother has had surgery for cancer. We have just found out my father has cancer of the brain and cancer of the lungs (he never smoked in his life). My mother feels the rock he took has brought bad luck on our family therefore, she has requested that I return all 4 rocks.

“Please see that they are replaced where they rightfully belong.”

A 1980 note, written in cursive with a red felt pen, says:

Here are your rock’s

nothing but trouble

Los Angeles

That’s blame-y but eloquent. A blame poem.

Other people have a firmer grip on why it’s bad to take stuff from parks, reasons other than “I can’t catch a break, why does this always happen to ME? Whoa – what if it’s a CURSE? Let’s BARGAIN!”

“A Guilty Traveler” wrote “I did not see your note on your brochure about a ‘few small pieces‘ until I returned home and now realise the effect of everyone took a ‘few small pieces.‘”

Petrified wood with geode formation. It would be nice if this was still there when you go to visit.

“…I stole some pieces of wood. I knew while I was doing it that I was stealing from the future & that if everyone did as I did there would be no more of those beautiful little broken pieces to shine in the sun… Sorry.”

From 1970, carefully printed on widely lined paper: “I AM SORRY I TOOK THIS. I AM ONLY 5 YEARS OLD AND MADE A BAD MISTAKE. ANDY”

One person wrote about some rocks they swiped 15 years before: “Taking it was wrong and I’m sorry I took it. This sample would make it impossible for me to honestly teach my children how wrong it is to take what isn’t yours. Hence, I must return it.”

Some explained why the thefts took place. “I rationalized that a few small pieces would not hurt.” “My youthful enthusiasm for a souvenir and my selfishness exceeded my understanding…” “[M]y boyfriend stole this… PS: I dumped my boyfriend not too long after that.” “I was so excited that I could be a part of something that took [place] millions of years ago…” “I was a grumpy teenage girl… I felt quite the rebel…”

Some argued that what they did wasn’t so bad – a rock was only removed “temporarily.”

From “Some strange corners of our country: the wonderland of the Southwest” by Charles Lummis Fletcher. 1908.

One letter, hand-printed on small binder paper, bristles with issues. “I am writing this letter in hopes of easing my conscience and saving the most important thing of my life, my marriage. Against my better judgement, I removed three rocks which my husband discovered hidden in my brassiere. Since then, being a true christian, he has constantly told me of my wrong doing. I’m afraid that our marriage is on the rocks. I want all of my eight children to see your park in the same condition that I saw it in.

“I am keeping one rock to remind me of the lesson I learned the hard way. I am enclosing twenty cents for you to buy another rock to replace the one I am keeping as a token of my guilt. I would appreciate it if you would buy one to replace the other very much. It would so ease my burdened conscience. Also enclosed are the other two rocks.

“please forgive me, and keep up the good work.”

The letter probably had no return address – most didn’t. Anyway, rangers are not marriage counselors.

Incidentally, if you have become fired up about owning petrified wood, you can buy pieces of various sizes and appearance which were collected on private land. Some have been made into bookends, paperweights, trays, pendants, statuettes of kangaroos… Probably budget more than twenty cents.

Did the fact that people didn’t have to face the rangers make the apologies any better? It’s unclear. Maybe a little. But as one person said, “This is a hard note to write. It’s not easy to admit an error even after nearly 15 years.”

And people keep writing that it was just a few small pieces. (I found them on the ground! Just lying there!)

There’s a lot of whining. It’s not completely fair to criticize the “it’s all about me and my bad luck” tone of some letters, when that’s exactly what the park once put forward. But just because they said it, doesn’t mean you had to believe it. The erstwhile grumpy teenager wrote “I can’t say I’ve had bad luck, I believe you make your own, but I do believe in Karma, and after nearly 20 years I want to return these two pieces back to you. …hindsight is a wonderful thing, and I want to right the wrong.”

So about that urge to get souvenirs. Recently Sumac had the great good luck to visit the Galápagos Islands. Souvenirs were available, and not ALL of them were Tshirts making lewd puns about boobies. The Galápagos are one of Ecuador’s amazing national parks, and they are carefully protected. Visitors were repeatedly warned that it’s illegal to take anything at all. No leaf, no lava chunk, no tortoise bone. This was explained, rightly, as a matter of conservation, not as some nonsensical “curse”.

Mockingbird wondering where its next drink is come from. Photograph courtesy of the quick-thinking and talented Nancy Arehart.

Sumac’s fellow-voyagers were mostly photographers (very very good photographers), so it was obvious what they’d be bringing back. But not everyone is a photographer.

On the astonishing island of Española, where waved albatrosses breed, Sumac saw a rare piece of trash on the beach. A cap from a Coke bottle had washed up. She picked it up to dispose of properly. Instantly a fearless Española mockingbird hurtled onto her hand and tried to drink from the bottle cap. Alas, there was neither cola nor fresh water in it, so the thirsty bird was disappointed. (They know very well that humans carry water, and regularly investigate water bottles in case they’ve been left open.)

That’s a great souvenir. It’s a memento to the tameness and boldness of animals who expect no harm from human beings. And the islands are better off without it.

Playapology camper Pika and Dr. Cheezie

In 2013, Sumac visited Camp Playapology at Burning Man. Her account of the visit remains one of our most popular posts.

In 2019, Snarly went to Burning Man for the first time. Her spouse, Dr. Cheezie, was attending his 22nd Burn. (It’s a mixed marriage.) Of course she had to visit Camp Playapology.

As Sumac noted six years ago, Playapology exists to help Burners apologize. It was started by D-Stracted and MadKap (aka David and Matt) seven years ago. Its genesis: D-Stracted had previously been a lousy, lazy camp member at a different camp. Camp Playapology’s very first delivery was to D-Stracted’s earlier campmates.

In the camp’s own words, they’re “part playa florist, part relationship repair therapy, part social experiment on atonement.” So let’s say you’re in Black Rock City and you’ve done something you know caused pain to someone else. You can visit Playapology and go through their homemade selection of apology cards (or make your own — they offer art supplies), deliver the card yourself or ask Playapology volunteers to do it. You can even send wine or flowers (artificial ones — real flowers aren’t allowed because the petals create MOOP, which stands for Matter Out of Place, aka detritus that would sully this starkly beautiful place).

Help for RAGING PRICKS!

You can also request a singing Sorrygram, delivered via a state-of-the-art-ish boom box (below) with your choice of apology songs on individual thumb drives. For what it’s worth, Sorrywatch would not forgive anyone who sent us Justin Bieber.

Cher or Journey?

This year the camp had around 22 participants. “It’s been bigger, but we like it small,” D-Stracted told Snarly. Campers are asked to put in one 3.5-hour shift; they rarely fail to show up. Which is somewhat unusual. Burners are not always reliable, as the choice of apology cards seems to indicate.

Choice #3: Ew.

The camp hosts fun events throughout the week: A Sorry Soirée on the first Sunday night, A ¡Lo Siento Hora Feliz! on Tuesday with sangria and Latin music, and a huge Hail Bloody Mary Saturday event Snarly and Cheezie had just missed. Fortunately, while Snarly interviewed the Playapology founders, fellow campers plied Cheezie with a variety of flavored vodka shots. They had 34 kinds.

Intrigued by the “Binaca blast” infused vodka shot…but not THAT intrigued.

Playapology tends to attract mensches. Or at least, people who can be counted on. “An important thing is that we’re adults,” D-Stracted said. “We’re in our 30s and up. I’m 52 — I’m the oldest. We’re kind to each other and we don’t run out of Bloody Mary mix.” Lots of the campers are scientists and psychologists. “I’d guess we have more Ph.Ds in our camp than any other,” posited MadKap, a molecular biologist with his own lab. (D-Stracted, a TV writer and producer in Los Angeles, is the odd man out — among other credits, he helped create the show My Cat From Hell.) MadKap guesstimated that around 50% of the campers have doctorates, which impressed Dr. Cheezie. (Dr. Cheezie has a doctorate too, as do about 30% of the campers at his camp, Liminal Labs. Not that anyone is competitive.)

“We are a snark-free zone,” MadKap said. “This camp is sincere. Burning Man can be a snarky place, and we want to be a refuge from that. People often come by to say, ‘Hey, I came here three years ago and you saved my relationship,’ or ‘You saved my camp.'” As if on cue, a young woman biked up and said, “I just wanted to tell you guys this is my first Burn and you’re my favorite camp.”

Can you find Dr. Cheezie behind the pretend flowers?

So many choices!

You may also avail yourself of the services of a Conciliation Concierge. This helpful individual will talk to you about what you did wrong, ask questions, and help you determine a course of action. “We don’t deliver an apology if it’s better for them to do it themselves,” Concierge Sue told me. “But sometimes it’s better for us to do it if they don’t know how it will be received.” For instance, a drunk guy who had been rude to a bartender realized in the semi-sober light of day that he’d erred and wanted to apologize, but wasn’t sure the bartender would want to see him again. In this case, a third-party apology was a good choice.

The most frequent apology topics involve rudeness, murky consent issues, and irresponsibility. Are there any apologies Playapology refuses to deliver? “Cheating is something we’re careful with,” D-Stracted said. “Maybe you don’t really want a stranger coming into your camp with a singing telegram: ‘Sorry I fucked someone else!'” Instead, the Conciliation Concierge helps people figure out why they cheated; then they help them determine what to say to the wronged party. If the sinner just wants absolution but doesn’t really get what they did wrong and/or isn’t determined to amend their behavior, Playapology won’t aid and abet them.

Like SorryWatch, Playapology doesn’t believe in apologizing when you don’t mean it. They’re dead serious about it, whether the issue is infidelity or something less weighty. At the Bloody Mary party, for instance, guests are asked to share something from the previous week that they regret. If they answer sarcastically or flippantly, MadKap refuses to serve them. (And if they’re truly regretful, they can choose to be paddled or flogged. If they want! Consent is key!)

Snarly asked MadKap why he was interested in co-creating the camp. Partially he was interested in building the infrastructure (he’s handier than D-Stracted; the camp has a cool, efficient modular structure). But he was also interested in the impact of apologies. “People have so much trouble with them,” he reflected. “But when you own your part it’s really powerful. It’s hard to own your own guilt.” Sometimes, though, you just have to sit with the discomfort. “You shouldn’t apologize if you’re going to cause more pain,” he said. “Maybe the best thing for you is to feel guilty and not expect to be absolved.”

One of the 10 Principles of Burning Man is gifting. “The value of a gift is unconditional,”  says of the event’s web site. “Gifting does not contemplate a return or an exchange for something of equal value.” That’s true for apologies, too. You don’t apologize because you want an apology in return. You don’t demand to be forgiven.

MadKap gave Snarly a gift — a little muslin bag with steampunk-y trimmings.

Inside she found two sets of earplugs in cute little containers and two bright plastic blinky lights. There was also a note, reading in part: “One item in each pair is meant for you, and the other is for you to re-gift to anyone you’d like, friend or stranger.”

Like apologies, small gifts often have wider repercussions. And like apologies, unexpected kindnesses help create a world we want to live in…and not only for one week in the desert with no pants on.

This is the way I came. I’ll just go back the same way.

On the morning of May 8^th, Amanda Eller meditated, then decided to go for a run. It was a lovely morning, as is so often true in Maui. She drove to the Makawao Forest Reserve. Since it was just a short 3-mile run, she left her stuff in the car – phone, wallet, water bottle, etc.

She tried running, but there were many trees down. So, less of a run, more of a hike. After about a mile and a half she sat on a tree to meditate.

She got up to go back. But then she was lost. Really lost.

She couldn’t find the path back. She spent a couple of hours in that area, trying to find the way back to her car. Confused and frustrated, she picked a different direction than she’d tried before, having a gut feeling that it was the way to her car. (It wasn’t.) She determinedly kept going that way. (In this situation, you should stay in place and wait for help.)

When her boyfriend had left the house that morning at 7:30 am, Eller was meditating. The next morning, with no idea where she was, he called the police. Her car was found at the Makawao reserve.

Actually, the trail must be right over there.

Rescue organizations – and concerned citizens began searching for Eller. The authorities deployed drones, helicopters, tracking dogs. Hundreds of volunteers fanned out on foot in the 2,093 acres of dense forest. With machetes. Her family offered a $10,000 reward.

After three days, fire and police quit searching. They are mandated not to keep searching after 72 hours. (They are said to have continued “behind-the-scenes” support.)

Family and friends kept searching, and created an organized search effort to use those hundreds of volunteers. There were up to 150 people a day searching, and it was important to make sure they were searching efficiently. Her father, John Eller, set up a search interface so people could use their phones to log searched areas. Yet no one could find a trace of her. One of Eller’s friends said, “As the days go by, and more and more people are in the forest, we get closer and closer to foul play.”

A GoFundMe account was set up to help with expenses – helicopters aren’t cheap. Chris Berquist, an arborist, spent so much time coordinating the search that his boss fired him. All the more time to spend on the hunt.

At the time of rescue, overcome.

A week went by. Nothing. Another week. Nothing. On the 16^th day, Berquist, Javier Cantellops, and Troy Helmer were in a helicopter scanning the heavy forest. They were paying special attention to waterways, where lost people often end up. Passing over a ravine between two waterfalls, they saw a grubby figure waving from 150 feet below. It was Amanda Eller, trapped there with a broken leg.

She was hoisted up and taken to the hospital. In addition to a broken tibia, she had lost 20 pounds – a diet of moths and unknown plants had not kept the weight on. She was badly sunburned and had skin infections as a result. And she was emotional.

That was May 24^th. The next day, from a hospital bed, Eller made a teary videotaped statement that was posted on Facebook.

…the last 17 days of my life have been the toughest – days of my life. It’s been a really significant spiritual journey that I was guided on, and there were times of total fear and loss and wanting to give up, and it did come down to life and death and I had to choose. And I chose life. I wasn’t going to take the easy way out, even though that meant more suffering, and pain for myself.

But this is just like a tiny little book of my story and my life, and it serves a much much bigger purpose, and seeing the way that the community of Maui came together, people that know me and people that don’t know me… just under the idea of helping one person make it out of the woods alive, just warms my heart.

Just seeing the power of prayer and the power of love, when everybody combines their efforts, is, incredible. It can move mountains, and at some point, I think we all thought that was lost from the world, and it’s beautiful to know that it’s not only [not] lost, but it’s just SO prevalent, and if we allow ourselves to tap into that side, to open our hearts, to be open to one another and see one another as brothers and sisters instead of like somebody we should be scared of… We’re helping each other, we’re all like part of the same community, we’re all part of the same purpose of being here on earth, then that’s what this was all for, this was all about us coming together for like a greater purpose, of community, and love, and appreciation for life, and I have the most gratitude and respect and appreciation, I can’t even put it into words, for the people that have helped me, for the people that prayed for me, for the people that were at base camp, for the people all over the world that somehow just wanted to be a part of this for the greater good, outside of themselves, so much love and respect, and I appreciate more than words can say all of those donations for the Gofundme, which has funded like my helicopters, because I had no idea how I was going to pay for that! But funding the helicopters and helping the people that have come out to search for me! I mean paying for their plane tickets. It’s such a beautiful exchange of energy amongst people for all the right reasons.

Quite a few people didn’t like that statement. They didn’t like “spiritual journey” – in fact, that made them suspect the whole thing had been either a publicity stunt or a deliberate attempt to seek enlightment in the wilderness at the expense of the citizens of Maui. Some said she probably took drugs to get that spiritual experience – why should we pay for that?

We suspect they didn’t like the fact that she talked about appreciation and gratitude but didn’t actually say “thank you.”

They found her evasive – why didn’t she say how she got lost, in fact did she really get lost? They didn’t appreciate getting a lecture about love and community from a drug-using glory hog. “That’s what this was all for”?

This doesn’t look familiar AT ALL. Since nothing else worked, maybe I should go this way.

What they saw as evasiveness fed a conspiracy theory about how she was never lost. Armchair theorizers looking at maps online said it was impossible to get lost in an itty-bitty 2,000-acre park full of trails. “How in the world do you get lost in a forest on a small Island lol” said one person.

“From the maps– looks like one couldn’t walk for a mile or two in a straight line without crossing one. The forest is not dense tropical forest either, at an elevation of 2,500 ft. The ocean can be seen through breaks in the trees. For the first day, or two, she didn’t have a broken leg. Her sunburn appears to be only on the feet and front of the ankles. Any other reasons to doubt that she was even in the park for 17 days with everyone looking for her all that time?” said another.

(Oh? Why did volunteers need machetes if the forest is so open? Was she supposed to lie on her stomach to get an even sunburn? If it’s so hard to get lost in Hawaii, how come after Eller was found her rescuers immediately set off to search for Noah Mina? To those who truly doubt a person can get lost even without a broken leg, SorryWatch suggests some wilderness training.)

Oh, and they wanted her to “Give the GoFundMe money back.”

People.

Three days later, still bandaged up, Eller made another statement. She was calmer.

I wanted to stay out of the limelight, but feel I need to make a statement to clear up some misunderstandings….

I want to go back to the details of… the situation of me being lost in the woods. That day, that I decided to go into the Makawao Forest, I had it in my mind that I was going for a 3-mile run. …I decided that I didn’t want to carry anything with me. Soon after starting out on that run, there were a lot of trees down, and so it turned into a hike…. I sat down on a tree, and I meditated. …I was listening to nature, and just listening and observing what was happening around me. There were not any drugs taken. At all. I was not under the influence of anything, just complete sobriety and clarity.

After meditating, I tried to return to my car, and I couldn’t find that path…. I spent a couple hours within that same part of the forest trying to find my way back to my car. After a couple hours I got disoriented, and frustrated, and picked a direction… It was a different direction than I tried, and I felt that that was the direction of my car. So clearly it was the wrong way, and I continued to go that way.

Had I had my cell phone with me that would not have been the case. So that was my irresponsibility, and for that I apologize.

That day I never intended to go on any kind of spiritual journey… it was simply just a hike through the woods…. It was never my intention through any of this to put anybody in harm’s way, to create a rescue effort out of my being lost in the woods.

I want to apologize for putting anybody in harm’s way, for any kind of… rescue effort that people feel were unnecessary. I apologize and I also thank like, every single person that showed up, who was on the ground, to try to help and find me, thousands of people, thousands of people were praying for me. I am in such awe and gratitude of all of the people that helped me find my way back to my family. I can never repay that. All I can do is just thank you from the bottom bottom of my heart.

I realize that I was irresponsible, that I should have had my cell phone with me, that I should have had some water with me… I am completely aware of that. And… this situation is hopefully making other people very aware of the preparations that they need when they choose to explore Maui…

I understand that my comments earlier on, about this being a spiritual journey, may have bypassed the details of what really happened. I’d like to clarify that I did, at the end of this experience… find a silver lining, and the bigger picture as to what was happening, but this was never intentional, and I did not set out that day on a spiritual journey. I set out that day to go on a very simple hike through the woods.

I should have spent more time in the beginning explaining the logistics of getting lost. Versus, you know, the messages that I tried to pull from the overall experience. I was naive and it was irresponsible of me to head out into the woods that day in the way that I did. It [was] never my intention to put anybody in harm’s way or to require rescue efforts, because of my irresponsibility. So for that I deeply do apologize to the community. I now understand how many people dropped their lives and what was important to them, to help me, and the dangers that they were maybe put in to help find me. And I’m relieved that that were no injuries and no serious consequences to that, but I do apologize for putting anybody in harm’s way.

It was not my right to be so casual about safety.

All of that being said, I would like to thank the Maui community, all of the local communities of Hawaii, and the global community, for the support, and the love, and the kind words that I’ve received, to expedite my healing, and to allow me to return back to my family, and back to my life in some kind of normal way. Thank you for everybody that helped me get home. Thank you for everybody’s prayers. I am in awe and gratitude for all of the love and support that I’ve received.”

Some people were still angry. One Facebook commenter snarked “It is good that you are safely home – but remember that you are not an inspiration, you are a cautionary tale…one that we have heard quite enough from.”

I found water. That’s good, right?

But another wrote, “This statement was very important for many of us who either are first responders or are married to a first responder… Their safety and the public’s safety cannot be taken lightly…. Your apologies seem unimportant to many but to those of us who are vested in the lives of these first responders/rescuers, that was a missing piece. You humbled yourself and gained perspective. All in all, we praise God that you’re alive!”

Was it right for Eller to apologize? Yes.

What for? Her family and friends were terrified and brokenhearted. Thousands of people were worried for her. Hundreds spent time, energy, and money searching for her. Others searched and when ordered to stop, suffered pangs because they couldn’t keep trying.

She didn’t mean to cause anyone harm. But she was a little careless and very unlucky.

Sometimes – often – we hurt others with no intention of doing so. We don’t mean to, but we do. Sometimes it could have been avoided, as in Eller’s case. Sometimes it can’t be helped.

Kids defend themselves by saying “I didn’t mean to.” Yes, there’s a difference between being kicked accidentally and being kicked deliberately. So it matters if they meant to. But it’s not the whole story. It’s not an excuse.

If Sumac kicked you completely by accident – and got hurt herself in the process – she should still apologize for kicking you. (What were we doing in this hypothetical example? Practicing ninja jitterbug? Wrestling a horse out of a hospital?)

Eller apologized for her carelessness – “It was not my right to be so casual about safety” – and also for explaining herself so incompletely in her first statement. The apology is a good one. She names what she did wrong in each case.

Her first statement, with no mention of how she got lost, and then got stuck, and with its dreaminess about spirituality and loving-kindness, left a vacuum that certain people filled with viciousness and conspiracy theories.

At the time of Eller’s first statement.

Eller shouldn’t be blamed for that. She had just come near death, she’d been desperate in the wilderness for weeks, and she was in a starving condition. She didn’t forget to be grateful to those who worked to rescue her. She must be forgiven for deploying imperfect PR skills from a hospital bed.

Those who sat at computers and invented stories, cruel ignorant stories, about her supposed wickedness are the ones who are at fault here. They say ‘a thief thinks everyone steals.’ What do these stories tell us about the people who made them up? We haven’t heard any of them saying they were sorry.

Are you bummed by the humungous number of insincere, self-serving, clueless, defensive “sorry if”s you’ve heard of late? Join us, won’t you, on a journey of thoughtful apologies! We have for your delectation a knitting magazine, a rapper, a rapist, and a humorist. Let’s begin!

#1: Here’s a well-crafted one from Laine Magazine! Who knew there was “a high-quality Nordic knit & lifestyle magazine“? Obviously there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in our fiber philosophy.

This appeared on both FB and Instagram.

Why is it a good apology? It uses the word “sorry.” It takes responsibility. It acknowledges the effect of what it did wrong. It promises action, and in the right way (reaching out more to designers of color, and noting that people of color should not be expected to do the work of educating white people). Alas, the comments on the FB post are unfortunate but unsurprising; not everyone will appreciate an apology or get why it’s important. Yet we’re obligated to apologize for our screw-ups. No one else is obligated to accept them. The only thing that would have made this apology better was a recap of what led to the apology — what’s the backstory here? Otherwise, it’s very good.

#2. Chance the Rapper’s apology for working with R. Kelly. In the wake of Lifetime’s series, Surviving R. Kelly, Chance tells interviewer Jamilah Lemieux, “Making a song with R. Kelly was a mistake. I didn’t value the accusers’ stories because they were black women,” he said. “I made a mistake.” To Snarly, a white woman, this comment was sufficient; he seemed to be honestly critical of his past decisions. Snarly, however, is not the demo. It’s more important to listen to the voices of Black women. And in great numbers, Black women did not accept this. Chance then said that his quote was taken out of context, which is almost always a cop-out. (And why it is a square in Bad Apology Bingo.)

pic.twitter.com/bqbKlsDA9l

— Chance The Rapper (@chancetherapper) January 6, 2019

However, in context, his quote WAS clearer!  

pic.twitter.com/0J46S5YOkW — Chance The Rapper (@chancetherapper) January 6, 2019  

The quote: “We’re programed to really be hypersensitive to black male oppression. It’s just prevalent in all media. And when you see n****s getting beat up by the police, it’s men…Slavery, for a lot of people, they envision men in chains, but black women are, you know, exponentially a higher oppressed and violated group of people. Like, just in comparison to the whole world, you know? Maybe I didn’t care because I didn’t value the accusers’ stories because they were black women.”

This is a fine apology. Uses the word “apologize” rather than “regret,” takes responsibility, offers an explanation that is not an excuse (he’s CLEARLY being self-critical) — he’s pointing out a historical, longterm problem that he has been part of: Failing to believe Black women, and/or failing to support them, because the voices and experiences of Black men have been given more credence, volume, and primacy. SorryWatch gathers that Chance is often viewed as a problematic figure. But we are an apology blog, and this is a good apology.

#3. A rapist apologizes to his victim. In a piece for The Atlantic, Deborah Copaken (who is, full disclosure, a friend of SorryWatch) writes about confronting her college rapist, 30 years later, in the wake of the Brett Kavanaugh confirmation mishegas. Read the story here. The upshot: Copaken wrote the man a letter. He called her a half-hour later and said, “Oh, Deb. Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I’m filled with shame.”

We spoke for a long time, maybe 20 minutes. He had no recollection of raping me, just of the party where we’d met. He’d blacked out that night from excessive drinking and soon thereafter entered Alcoholics Anonymous. But that, he said, was no excuse. The fact that he’d done this to me and that I’d been living with the resulting trauma for 30 years was horrifying to him. He was so sorry, he said. He just kept repeating those words, “I’m so sorry,” over and over.

Suddenly, 30 years of pain and grief fell out of me. I cried. And I cried. And I kept crying for the next several hours, as I prepared for Yom Kippur, the Jewish holiday of forgiveness. And then, suddenly, I was cleansed. Reborn. The trauma was gone. All because of a belated apology.

Snarly was also sexually assaulted in college (three years after Deb, at the same school), by a then-sophomore. When Snarly reported the incident to a college administrator, the administrator said, “Well, it’s your word against his.” She advised not reporting him to the Administrative Board. So Snarly didn’t. The administrator ruled that the sophomore was no longer allowed to come into Snarly’s residential suite; Snarly’s roommates, who were also friends with the sophomore, were annoyed at Snarly. Didn’t she understand that he was damaged, that he was only expressing affection in his messed-up way, that he had been a childhood victim of sexual assault? The sophomore filled her voicemail with taunting messages and stood with his toes on her doorjamb as she entered and exited, gently crooning, “Marjorie haaaaates meeeeee! I’m not allowed to come iiiiiiiin!” The next year, Snarly petitioned to move to a different house (an uncommon request) and it was granted. She never spoke to the sophomore again. He reportedly committed suicide several years after graduation. The administrator, on the other hand, is now a full professor at another university. As #metoo turned into a crescendo, Snarly wrote an email to her, saying, “I hope if a student ever comes to you today with a report of being sexually assaulted, you’ll do better.” Snarly never heard back. All of this is a longwinded way to say that Snarly understands how powerful an apology like the one Deb got can be; Snarly yearned, ached, for such an apology. A good apology can be a huge help in facilitating forgiveness, and the mental and even physical health benefits of forgiveness are huge. ACCORDING TO SCIENCE. Again, though, you should not feel guilty if you can’t forgive. Be proud that you’re still here.

#4: A completely fictional apology from Louis CK! Many of us (Snarly included) have written off this gross wanker. Others — including comic Sarah Silverman — have not. To each their own! We repeat: No one is owed redemption! And people who do horrid things over and over (thinking of Harvey Weinstein here) are unlikely to deliver a great apology. The same monstrous ego and amorality that let them do the bad things in the first place generally prevent them from having the compassion to see things from their victim’s point of view. For profoundly vile people, an apology is only an attempt to get out of trouble. Personally, given his earlier apology (which some folks thought was good, but let’s just say SorryWatch disagreed), Snarly finds it hard to imagine Louis CK apologizing well enough for her to grant him absolution. But writer Nell Scovell managed to write a pretend stand-up set for Louis that MIGHT, if it were real, make Snarly think about forgiving him. It’s even funny! That quite an accomplishment, though not altogether surprising from the author of Just The Funny Parts, a very sharp and often bitter account of Scovell’s 30-odd years in the trenches of male writing rooms.

We have two more good apologies in our pocket. But this post is already long, so we’ll save them for a rainy day when we need a little humans-don’t-always-suck sunshine.

As this post goes up, the Restoration team is working on Burning Man cleanup, scouring the Black Rock Desert for any traces of 2018’s event.

Burners work very hard to Leave No Trace. Line sweeps, cross-raking, magnetic rakes – all come in handy. That works for stray washers, runaway bits of tape or lost beads. But what about the things you said that you wish you hadn’t, or the things you didn’t say and wish you had? What about those norms you violated? AND WHAT ABOUT THE SHIFTS YOU MISSED? Maybe not everyone is finished cleaning up after themselves. Magnetic rakes can’t help with everything.

Has anyone seen Camp Brigadoon?

That’s what PlayApology camp is for. SorryWatch has visited PlayApology since 2013. (To be precise, the Sumac part of the SorryWatch team has done so – Snarly seems dust-averse.) Including 2015, the year of the Awful Thing.

PlayApology helps Burners apologize. If needed, Apology Concierges talk them through what to say and how. PlayApology helps, when desired, by writing poems or songs for the occasion, and supplying cards, flowers, and gifts to go with the apology. (The flowers aren’t real, since live plants are not allowed in Black Rock City. This year there were elegant white roses made of bamboo.)

CandyGram for Mongo.

They also deliver apologies. For the first time, PlayApology was listed on the whiteboards for volunteer opportunities. Anyone could sign up to deliver apologies. Many people did, and many were delighted with the experience and came back asking for more apologies to deliver.

The hardest part is often finding the person the apology is for. “This apology is for Alkahest in Camp Brigadoon. It’s near 8:30 and Iron Giant. Look for a dome?”

Sumac went along in a quest to deliver an apology (for what we do not know) from one tent-mate to another, but no one was home.

Still, that was better than an apology Sumac helped deliver last year. That was for forgetting to bring Moscow Mules the apologizer had promised to pick up in Reno. We sang a song Sue Fernandez had written:

You were waiting for my sorry ass

To bring you Moscow Mules

I regret I was forgetful and

I acted like a tool

I would give you all the vodka in the

world if there were time

and I want to make it up to you

with a singing silly rhyme

I’m an asshole I’m sorry I forgot

Please enjoy these mini vodkas

Playapology has brought.

The apologisee stood on the step of her trailer and listened without expression. She did not actually snort, but it was clear the apology was not accepted. Keep in mind that she almost certainly did not want those Moscow Mules for herself, but to give to others, in accordance with the Burning Man principle of gifting. A few mini vodkas could not be a substitute.

That’s not who I am. (Image for PlayApology by Ben Darby.)

Other newly-minted Apology Concierges headed out to deliver apologies for being shitty at putting up shade, for missing a shift, and for “abusing the bond between us.” There were also two different apologies for being SO BUSY at Burning Man that they didn’t manage to properly celebrate anniversaries.

This year Sumac was with a group of 7 that delivered an apology to a nearby camp, PlayApologist Jake improvised a short melody and taught it to us. We went to the tent at the front of the camp, and asked for the person to whom the apology was addressed. Some of her camp-mates gathered as we waited for her to appear. When she came, we gave her a bunch of white roses, a card the apologizer had written, and sang:

We are here to say – so sorry!

I forgot to bring more vegan snacks.

“I’m so touched!” she said, and hugged us all. “This is one of the best mornings of my life.”

Burning Man has found it good to have its own versions of many things found in the default world – an airport (Black Rock City Municipal Airport, FAA 88NV), a DMV (Department of Mutant Vehicles), a post office, urgent medical care, peace officers (the Black Rock Rangers), and so forth. Turn that around, and PlayApology is a Burning Man thing that the default world could use.

The apology letter to Terry Crews (delightful, funny Brooklyn Nine-Nine actor) from Adam Venit (handsy, gross, disgraced movie agent who groped Crews’s genitals at a party) is really bad. Spectacularly bad. Bad enough to warrant its very own Bad Apology Bingo card.

Venit actually wrote the letter back in March, but Crews released it publicly yesterday after Venit resigned from his high-powered agency job. The implication, obv, is that Crews accepted the apology only with Venit’s resignation.

@WME ‘s ADAM VENIT FULL APOLOGY LETTER:

Received: March 22nd, 2018

Accepted WITH HIS RESIGNATION: September 10th, 2018#Accountability

Read in full below: pic.twitter.com/Hbe4tu7UPL

— terrycrews (@terrycrews) September 14, 2018

Sorrywatch is glad that Crews is satisfied. But just because Crews forgives Venit doesn’t mean the rest of us have to. SorryWatch tweeted this very sentiment back when Lisa Brennan-Jobs’s memoir — in which she forgives her psychologically abusive father Steve Jobs — was published.

Apologies are mandatory. Forgiveness is not. If Lisa Brennan-Jobs wants to forgive her father, it’s her choice. We can respect it and simultaneously be horrified by him. https://t.co/8I0SA2H8Jn

— Sorry Watch (@SorryWatch) August 24, 2018

Same thing here.

Venit’s apology is so narcissistic; so full of heroic “I”s and “me”s; so determined to place himself on the same journey (?), the same moral footing (??), the same heroic character arc (???) as Crews; so unwilling to see himself as the victimizer and Crews as the victim; so disgustingly eager to move on to the redemption arc portion of the story that it generated its very own Bad Apology Bingo game! (The third in a series!) Adam Venit thus becomes the ONLY PERSON EVER (so far) to earned his very own solo card, with enough vile turns of phrase in one single apology to fill 16 squares. (And it would have filled the standard 25-space template if we’d included words/phrases/qualities that have appeared on previous Bad Apology Bingo cards, such as “Move Forward,” Vagueness, Self-Aggrandizement,”If”, Noble Talk of Our/My Values, Lack of Specificity, and “Move On”!) So congrats, Adam! We’re calling this The Adam Venit (‘Venit’ Is Only Two Letters From ‘Venal’) Career-Memorial (We Hope) Bingo Card.