filkertom | FKO And Beyond

So, mostly, a pretty good weekend. The one real problem was the Faux Pas, as I shall refer to it hereafter.

First things first. My employment situation kept me from getting back to FilkOntario for years, but finally, finally I was able to get back, and I spent time talking -- talking with Cat Faber, and Jodi Krangle, and Blind Lemming Chiffon, and Glenn Simser, and Pete and Jill Grubbs were there, and ever-damn-body, and it was wonderful. And we made some really great music Friday night -- Mary Bertke was leading an Irish circle with Dave Clement and Debbie Ridpath-Ohi and Graham Leathers and Howard Scrimgeour and a bunch of other folks. And we did some pretty good stuff Saturday night, and on the way to bed I stumbled into about a dozen FKO folks who'd met up with about a dozen members of a gospel choir, and the lobby was ringing with a huge, beatiful choral of "Amazing Grace". And I've now had the chance to see Carla Ulbrich in concert twice, and am officially smitten -- she's Christine Lavin's sister, separated at birth, is all I'm saying.

The highlight of the weekend was that Clif Flynt and David and Judith Hayman were inducted into the Filk Hall of Fame.

Along with me.

I don't believe I can express how much this means to me. I was damn near incoherent at the ceremony, and I know most people aren't used to seeing me speechless. I didn't jump up and down like Sally Field going "You like me! You really like me!" But I was thinking it.

And there was only one little problem.

The lowlight of the weekend was my own big, stupid mouth.

I will not get into detail as to what I did. Suffice it to say, spurred (but not excused) by emotional overdrive and current events and my own instinct to make trouble and God only knows what else, I made a big production of saying something which, in and of itself, may have been excusable -- more than one person pointed out that it would've been much less obnoxious and possibly hilarious a week earlier or two weeks later -- but I did it in a way that couldn't really have been more deeply offensive and disrespectful if I had planned it to be.

I have no idea what the hell I was thinking.

Ever read Lois Bujold's A Civil Campaign? Aral Vorkosigan defines the difference between reputation and honor as what other people know about you versus what you know about yourself, and points out that when those two are in conflict -- especially if you're being celebrated by the public but you feel your own honor is in ashes at your feet -- it can be soul-destroying.

That was me, most of Saturday night and all of Sunday morning. These people wanted to honor me -- had honored me in the past -- and I acted like a compleat asshole on their stage.

So, just before the Hall of Fame concert on Sunday, I apologized. For those of you who weren't there, well, that's why I put this here. I apologize. I was insane, I was going for the cheapest of cheap laughs, I was numbed by news coverage, but none of those excuse the disrespect I inflicted upon the situation and upon you. The sentiment I expressed is not even the issue; the manner in which I did it was, and I was a jerk and a half.

I am sorry. And I am ashamed.

And, while I can't promise I won't be that stupid again, I am even more aware of it now than I ever have been, and I do promise to try even harder not to offend. Usually I think I'm pretty good. Crass, yes. Rude, absolutely. But genuinely bone-gratingly gut-lumpingly offensive, I try hard to avoid. This time, I screwed up about as badly as you can. But I vow to spend every waking minute trying to be the person I should be, the person you all treat me as, and the person you deserve.

Thanks for listening, and for putting up with me.