You find yourself in a large, white room with walls so far away, you can’t even be sure that they are there. You glance up, and realize that you can’t really discern a ceiling either. This looks and feels a lot like the Construct (loading room) from The Matrix movie.

It’s just a big, open, empty room.

Or is it?

As you turn around to investigate, you realize that it’s not totally empty.

There you see a series of tables. They are spread out before you both deep and wide. You quickly estimate that there are hundreds of tables here. Maybe even thousands. It’s impressive.

On each table, there is a white tablecloth, and in the middle of each table, there sits an empty pitcher. As you approach the closest table to investigate further, you realize that your own hands are not empty. You are holding, of all things, a muffin tin.

You know, a muffin tin. It’s like a metal sheet with 12 spots to bake muffins (or cupcakes) in.

But there are no muffins in this tin.

Instead, you notice that some of the muffin spots are filled with varying levels of water. You immediately slow your gait and steady your hands, to keep the water from sloshing and spilling. It takes you a few minutes, but you eventually make it to the table.

As you peer into the top of the pitcher, you learn that it is not actually empty, either. There is a small mound of powder at the bottom of the pitcher. There is also a wooden spoon just behind the pitcher.

Immediately, you recognize the set-up before you.

This is a Kool-Aid station.

As if by instinct, you begin to pour the water from your tin, your eyes bulge and your mouth moistens at the splash of red that has just been created before you. As you pour out the last drop, you set down the tin, grab the spoon, and get stirring.

When the last of the granules is finally dissolved, you set down the spoon, put both hands on the pitcher, and raise it to your mouth. The smell takes you right back to your childhood, and you can hardly wait for the divine concoction to pass your lips.

And then it does.

But your anticipation has not been met with the satisfaction you were so sure of. Yes, the taste of cherries is noticeable, but the overall flavor is pretty bitter.

“Ahhhhh”, you remember… Kool-Aid needs sugar.

You wonder if any of the other pitchers contain sugar in them. As you gaze around the room, you notice that the pitchers are all slightly different in shape and size. Your own is a tall, opaque cylinder. But other containers are taller, wider, shorter, narrower, clearer, etc.

You grab your muffin tin, but before you can take a step towards another table, you realize that your tin is filling with water again. Slowly, and not quite evenly in each spot, water is magically appearing in the little muffin divots.

Startled, you set the tin back down on the table, and notice that the process has stopped.

Curious, you pick it up again, and marvel at the water levels rising again. YOU are the one filling this with water. It’s somehow a part of you. And now, clearly, it’s a part of your tin.

As the muffin tin begins to be full, you find yourself slowing down and steading your hands again as you walk. But with your desire to reach the next table, and your newfound powers of manufacturing water, you decide to pick up the pace, letting some water slosh and spill along the way.

By the time you’ve reached this new table, you only have about half of the liquid that you had before, and there is no longer any filling happening.

You also realize that the journey to the second table had taken more out of you than you would have expected. You find that you are actually quite parched. You pour the contents of your muffin tin into the pitcher anyway, gasping aloud when you notice a bright green solution develop before your eyes. You repeat the stirring process, and take a deep chug of the green stuff, only to immediately spit it out like you are in a bad comedy film.

While there is definitely some sugar in this container, the water to powder ratio was WAY off, creating a drinkable (allegedly) version of what reminds you visually of toxic sludge (or TMNT ooze).

As you begin to put the pieces together, you realize that it will take you a long time to find the “right” container for making Kool-Aid. You figure that somewhere in this sea of tables, pitchers, and wooden spoons, there is a perfectly sized pitcher, probably round and clear, with a smiley face drawn in condensation on the side.

There it is.

You also figure that you are going to have to bring the right amount of water to that pitcher in order to find the perfect balance.

But suddenly, you feel a sense of dread. You know that if you put all of your water in one container, and it turns out to be a bad batch, you’ll have to start the process all over again.

Maybe you should be more cautious. Maybe you should spread your water out among a number of different pitchers, so if a batch ever seems to go sour, you can just fall back on another pitcher that you have started pouring yourself, er uh, your water into. There is a world of potential right before you. You wouldn’t want to make a mistake here by making the wrong choice.

So you put your plan into action, pouring a bit of water over here, a bit more over there, and some more over there. Pretty soon, you are so thirsty that you can’t even wait for the Kool-Aid anymore. You look down at the plain water in your hands, and you start to drink directly from the tin.

You start to rethink your plan. You wonder if maybe you should just choose a single pitcher and close your eyes to the others all around it.

You start to hear voices in your head:

“What if you choose the “wrong” one?”

“What if you keep wandering and looking for a better pitcher?”‘

“What if choosing one is the only way to stay sane?”

“What if…”

“What if…”

“What if…”

What would you do?

My son and I at a community service project last Fall.

This morning, while sitting at the kitchen table, the question that I had expected my son to eventually ask me, was finally asked. After taking the self-applied clip-on tie off of his undershirt, buttoning his top button, and correctly reseting the tie, he looked at me and said:

“Daddy, why don’t you go to church with us?”

Kim happened to be walking down the hall, but she heard the question and raised her eyebrows at me as if to say “He’s your son!” She realized that this was going to be a man to man conversation, and continued to the bathroom to prepare herself for the upcoming church service.

I looked into my son’s earnest eyes, and contemplated his even more earnest question. As many parents do, I weighed the merits of a short answer that would stop his questioning (but be less than truthful), against a more truthful answer than might take a series of answers and explanations about things that he might have trouble wrapping his mind around. Today, I chose to give him the more honest answer.

I told him that it was because of my beliefs. Although the church and I share some of the same beliefs about living a moral life, we differ on so much more. The main difference, as I told my son, was the church’s view of the other, the outsider, the adherent of another faith, and/or the unrepentant sinner. This church (like many others) believes that after death, certain people will end up in some sort of hell. For most of my life, I have believed the same. But in the past few years, for a variety of reasons, I no longer do.

Before explaining anything else to him, I let him know that despite his desire to be just like me in so many ways, his beliefs would have to be his own. Whether my words of explanation will have any more influence on him than my actions, only time will tell. But, I wanted to express to him how personal everyone’s beliefs are, and how they should have some measure of respect.

After describing hell as a place where people were sad and crying for ever and ever, and where God could not/would not ever see them or rescue them, my son replied that he did not want to ever go there. I told him that some people believe that the population of hell is made up of people who deserve to be there. I shared with him my belief in a God who would not create someone who would eventually end up in hell. In fact, I read a great quote in a book by Samir Selmanovic just yesterday:

“I have become convinced that a God who favors me over others is not worth worshipping.”

In the end, my son walked away with a couple of new thoughts about God and hell, and an apparently sufficient answer about why daddy wasn’t going to church.

Really, I just can’t wrap my head around the belief that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and at the same time that God is the creator of this mess that falls short of Him. If God is responsible for the situations in our life that lead us to make choices, then He is also somewhat responsible for those choices. If He is not responsible for those situations, then everything is just chance and chaos. God cannot judge our actions justly if we are all playing with different pieces on often vastly different game boards.

I’m sure that I could say more about this, but I’ll save it for another time.

Not believing in hell is just a stone’s throw away from not believing in “sin”.  In light of my Christian upbringing, this is a belief that challenges much of what is commonly understood about the purpose and nature of Jesus, the namesake of Christianity. If there is no hell, and there is no sin, then what was Jesus all about? If he was just a great moral teacher, and not God incarnate, then this changes everything. Depending on what criteria you use to classify a Christian, then you may not consider me one anymore. To be honest, I myself often wonder if I should claim that for myself anymore.

I feel like I’m a sort of religious no man’s land. Where I’m going to end up is unclear (pun intended). I just know where I don’t want to be:  In a place where God loves me (enough to give me life in heaven) more than he loves other people (so little that He lets them die in hell). If you’ve found some place where I could find myself more at home, please let me know.

While speaking to a group of high school students last month after the Ft. Hood shooting, our discussion touched on the volunteer nature of American armed forces.  When someone mentioned how much soldiers have to sacrifice in order to join up, I brought up the professional sacrifice of Pat Tillman.  To my shock and amazement, none of the students had ever heard of him.

While sharing Pat’s story with this group, my own personal emotions regarding Pat’s decision and death came surging back to me.  While I’m definitely more of a pacifist now than at any other time in my life, I can still draw strength and inspiration from his decision to give up his high paying and high profile position as an NFL player.  The act of temporary sacrifice for the sake of a greater good has not been exactly been a hallmark of my own life.

Trying to find a balance between striving for what I want, and denying myself those same desires has been the unresolved theme of my life.  In an effort to “die to self” in an aim toward virtue, I often times sabotaged myself (and my family, as a result) as I came too close to reaching my desires.  I began to expect failure like a musical virtuoso expects applause. I couldn’t believe Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka when he remarked that the man who suddenly got all that he wanted, lived happily ever after.

I’m not sure that I can say that I completely understand Pat’s decision, but recently, it has taken on new meaning for me.  From everything that Pat accomplished (3.84 GPA in 3 1/2 years at Arizona State University, while being named Pac-10 Player of the Year, as a 5 foot 11 inch linebacker) to what those close to him said about his drive, it seems clear that he didn’t do very many things half-assed.  So how does someone with that kind of focus and resolve just change his path so drastically mid-course?

What if he didn’t change his mind?  What if his decision to enlist was completely in line with his personal goals and desires?  If becoming a successful professional athlete was Pat’s supreme goal, then yes, he did make a wholesale change to his values and desires.  But if his desire was to be a great man, then it was just his definition of what makes a man great that changed.

It’s another variation of the discussion on life as more of a journey than a destination.

I now understand desire as a virtue.  As long as that desire aligns with the ultimate principles that govern life. A desire that leads to a full stomach, an escape from reality, or an orgasm is not one to embrace as life-giving or virtuous.  But a desire that leads to a peaceful resolution, a restored relationship, or the benefit of others may be.

Desires and choices come from our goals.  When we are immature, we can only see a short distance into the future.  As we grow, we can see farther and our goals reflect longer term aims.

Pat’s goal was to be a great man.  My goal is the same.  But how I’m defining great has changed.  A great man doesn’t deny fulfilling his desires for the virtue of denial itself.  A great man aligns his goals with the most virtuous truths on the highest level of abstraction that he can reasonably comprehend.  Now, if I miss a meal, miss a nap, or avoid romance with other women, it may seem seem like some sort of denial of desire, but it is what I want.  And I’m finally OK with getting what I want.

On a much more somber note, Jon and Kate plus 8 aired it’s final episode.  Part of me is relieved that some sort of conclusion has been reached in this saga.  There will always be some sort of celebrity status attached to this family, but unless they begin a new show or other endeavor into the entertainment world, the “new” normal that is coming may look more like the “old” normal that the Gosselins enjoyed before the show.

The biggest difference that I noticed in this episode was the behavior and attitudes of the older twin girls, Maddie and Kara.  The show starts with a daddy day.  The kids are all together with Jon, at the house, and they decide to put together a lemonade stand to raise money for the local fire department.  Tensions between the girls are high, which happens with siblings a lot in normal situations where tools (markers in this case) need to be shared.

In a moment of frustration, Maddie says “I like stuff we do with Mommy.”  Of course this doesn’t sit well with Jon, and he immediately banishes her from the project, with a pledge to throw her poster in the trash after she asks him not to finish it for her.  Just for good measure, Jon halts Kara’s progress on her poster and sends her inside as well.  The girls are left in tears, while Jon is able to bask in the glory of not being the easy-going, push-over dad of the past umpteen similar incidents with his children.  It seems that he is trying to “be” Kate in the increasingly frequent situations where she is not present.  Sadly, the girls are at school for the mommy day outing in the second half of the episode and are not seen or heard from again.

Its the moment that every divorced parent fears and tries to be prepared for: when the kids start playing the parents against each other, realizing that they are no longer on the same team.  Kate later laments her situation as a single parent by stating that Jon is no longer her teammate.  Its was a tough scene to watch, and even tougher to have as the last taste in my mouth of Maddie and Kara.  I’m hopeful that things have progressed with their relationships together, but there is no longer the promise of a future episode to experience this progression as a viewer.

Unlike with LOST (I hope), the ending of Jon and Kate Plus 8 does not tie up all of the loose ends.  Most likely, this is still very much the beginning of their journey as a family, albeit a fractured one.  Jon’s admission of fault for most of the downfall of his marriage is refreshing, but probably stings of “too little, too late”.  Kate seemed disappointingly focused on how depressing losing the show was for the kids, and much less on how their relationship with their father has changed.  Maybe this is too negative of a way to look at it all.  With plenty of knots to untie, there will be plenty of growth to be had for both of these parents.  I’m probably just jealous that I can no longer experience some of this growth vicariously.

I can’t say I know what it is like to be the parent of multiples.  I met with a new friend this week who has four 2-year-old children.  He shared with me the negative looks and disparaging remarks that his family has received since the Jon and Kate backlash began earlier this past summer.  I had a separate conversation today with a different friend about a view his counselor shared with him about the “selfishness” of having children.  The counselor is not a parent himself.  Both of these friends shared the same sentiment:

“You just don’t know until you’ve walked in my shoes.”

It’s probably the drum that I will bang over and over again as I hear criticism and judgement with little compassion or understanding offered.  Discipline, punishment, castigation, judgement, and the like are only useful as tools on a path of change, growth, and redemption.  Jon and Kate have received a lot of it over the past year.  Will it help to propel them to such change, growth, and redemption?  Listening to Jon’s final session on the couch…. maybe so.

Click here to view the embedded video.

I had a few people tease me in high school for playing “girls” sports like soccer and volleyball.  While I haven’t seen a volleyball video quite like this before, perhaps the idea of soccer being a “soft” game, even for girls, may be closer to being exposed as quite false.  While mostly tongue in cheek, it is a startlingly violent video.

Like many people, I was shocked and disgusted by how intentional Lambert’s actions were.  Even though the video just shows highlights (lowlights?) from the match, and the tension of the game cannot be discerned from snippets of film out of context, it’s impossible to justify what she did as an acceptable part of the game.  She has been suspended indefinitely, and many believe that she will not be considered for reinstatement to the team until she undergoes serious psychiatric analysis and treatment.  In addition to her reputation as a soccer player, he may also lose her scholarship, and any hopes she had of playing professionally at another level.

Many people can relate to losing their cool and doing something regrettable in the heat of the moment.  Unfortunately, many of us forget what we ourselves are capable of when we see such egregious acts of violence while personally being in a calm state of mind.  Some people have called for Lambert to be expelled from school.  Even others have wanted the police to investigate the hair pulling incident as an assault.  She has even received an alarming number of date proposals from men who would like her to treat them as rough as she does her opponents on the pitch.

After two weeks of dealing with a cacophony of media pundits and Youtube commenters, Elizabeth finally granted an interview to the New York times today.  Her tone varies from one of genuine remorse to explanatory pleading. The accompanying picture doesn’t exactly fit the thuggish girl from the video above.  Although her video seems to show a pattern of dirty play, she has only received 2 yellow cards in her career at New Mexico, which has spanned over 2,500 minutes on the field.  Maybe she did just have a bit of temporary insanity.  Perhaps she should be given more benefit of the doubt.

In fact, the two weeks of time that have passed since this episode and today’s interview have given me a lot of time to think about my own screw ups and shortcomings.  If I were defined by my weakest moments or known around the world by my greatest failures, I’m not sure if I would still be allowed my own web domain www.zacparsons.com.  As it is, people know me by some mix of what I have shared with them, or what they have heard or seen themselves or second hand from others.  Although I make sincere attempts to be transparent, I’m sure that many of my behavioral warts would lose me some friends and comrades if every detail of my life was known.

If what we know about someone is bad, is it fair to label him/her as a bad person?  Do stories of shocking behavior expose someone’s true nature, or is it just a moment of weakness that happened to catch our attention?  Do we poo-poo away our own moral failures as circumstantial, heat of the moment, “you would understand if you were in my shoes” types of events?  Or even if we take responsibility for our actions, do we feel that we need to saddle ourselves with that burden on a daily or hourly basis to remind ourselves of how evil we really are?

Maybe the question I’m asking is: are we all really bad people who happen to do good things from time to time?  Or are we all good people, who happen to do bad things from time to time?  Or are some of us more inclined to be good and others of us to be bad?  I believe that your answer to those questions has a lot do to with how you deal with others on a daily basis.

If you know that you need slack cut to you in order to enjoy life and the relationships around you, take a good look at how much slack you are cutting for others.  Since our country doesn’t even trust Elizabeth Lambert to make the decision to imbibe alcohol (she’s only 20), maybe we should all help her to learn from this and work towards changing her nickname to something more fitting of a human being.

A fact that did not get as much attention as his religious affiliation, but may be equally connected to his behavior, is Hasan’s role as a psychiatrist for soldiers returning from tours in the Middle East.  If you believe that we move toward, and become like, that which we think about, then his violent behavior may be slightly more understandable.  Hour after hour, day after day, of hearing and processing accounts of death and carnage in a messy war would take a toll on even the healthiest of doctors.  But the attack earlier this month may have been the price for this exposure to vicarious violence for this psychiatrist.

Most psychiatrists will help patients to filter through their thoughts and behaviors, classifying some as normal and healthy, and other as disruptive or negative.  For soldiers preparing to return to civilian life, the rules of war that have become second nature to many of them, are not the same rules of life in America, and the psychiatrist helps the soldier to come to terms with that.  The psychiatrist helps the patient to build new thoughts and plans for action in a future of non-violence and a stable civil and judicial structure.  For Hasan, this breakdown of normal thoughts and actions for the future of a civilian must have been truly dissonant in his mind, knowing that his future was likely to include the violence of these soldiers’ pasts.

Even though he was born in Virginia, there have been reports that Hasan felt more of a connection to his Middle Eastern heritage than the Red, White, and Blue of his true homeland.  Perhaps in his personal thoughts of the war battles, he put himself in the shoes of the local Iraqi or Afghan fighters.  The best memory training techniques and methods for developing your subconscious hard drive include visualizing yourself doing something in first person perspective.  If Hasan’s thoughts drifted from: “How terrible it must be to kill someone!” to “How terrible it must be to be attacked on your own soil?” perhaps he did imagine himself as a local fighter of the Americans from the homeland.

Of course, the connection to his religion is still key, as many people see themselves as a Christian, Muslim, Jew, etc. first, and an American, Iraqi, Afghan, etc. second.  With the declaration of jihad from many terrorist groups, a holy war would trump any connection to his profession, his country of birth, and even his connection with mankind, as God’s will is supreme.  Devotion to Islam coupled with regular exposure to the love and charity of fellow Muslims and those outside of the faith should not result in violence.  But any religious beliefs that are combined with images of repression, invasion, or a divine mandate for murder often times will.

Perhaps the saying “Violence begets more violence.” is proven true once again.  Even if the original violence is just in one’s mind.

Easy tiger...

How you feel about Jon Gosselin is probably going to depend a lot on what you have personally experienced in your own life, or how you value stories of failure and redemption.  If you’ve led a morally upright life, and you tend to only value failure if it is soon followed by redemption, you may have little to no sympathy for Jon Gosselin and his bachelor-esque behaviors (while married) over the past several months.

This is especially difficult to swallow for those who revered him as a type of “super-dad” and loving husband who would sacrifice anything for his family.  Even if a divorce is a dance for two, he seems to have loaded up the jukebox with many more songs than Kate.  Their legal proceeding are becoming increasingly volatile and their relationship is strained to a microscopic level.  I’m sure that many may have the desire to remind Jon that he made this bed, and now it is time to sleep in it.

From doting father and submissive husband to jet-setting playboy with a cell phone filled with booty calls, Jon has shown clearly that he has a wild side.  But is that all that it is?  Is it just one side of his personality?  With his behavior over the last year seeming so different than what was known about him up until that time, the question on many people’s minds is:  ”Will the real Jon Gosselin please stand up?”

Lisa Respers France from CNN wrote a fantastic piece about Jon’s recent conversations and counseling with Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, who apparently is something of a celebrity spiritual advisor.  In the article, besides dispelling rumors that he was to be starting a new reality series with “Octomom” Nadya Suleman, Jon had some frank comments about his behavoir:

I am well aware that my behavior over the past few months has not always reflected my personal and religious values. I further accept that I have allowed myself to become somewhat severed from my own moral anchor and be carried away by the challenges of fame.

and:

It is my sincere desire to use the fame I have so unexpectedly acquired to highlight mature, responsible behavior as well as the joys of fatherhood and family.

and probably the most honest of them all:

I ask the public to please understand the challenges I face in living under constant public scrutiny, even as I am aware that I have at times courted that scrutiny.

Ok, so a level-headed Jon is issuing a mea culpa, with a promise to change the future in a positive way.  But does anyone care?  Over 60% of that CNN article’s readers polled believe that Kate should NOT forgive Jon.  There is a real belief in the minds of many people that some sort of penance must be undertaken before forgiveness should be entertained.  Perhaps those people are right.

But there are many that believe that blanket forgiveness is often undeserved, and punishment (or justice) is the best way to return to a balanced way of life.  In my own story, many people advised Kim to “make him (me) pay” and “make him (me) work for your (her) love” during the beginning of our time of healing.  Our healing blossomed into a reconciliation, but that is not and should not be the only expected result of healing.  Peace is paramount.

Jon at a more innocent time

Past behaviors, both negative and positive, must be synthesized to arrive a current state of someone’s character appraisal.  Jon is neither a knight in shining armor nor a wild, partying, lust-monster.  At least, not fully.  They are two sides of his personality, and it’s likely not a 50/split.  We all act differently in different stages of our lives, and sometimes the pendulum swings wildly.

Human nature is not just about who we wish to be, it’s about who we are, which is evidenced by what we do.

The biblical story of the prodigal son has be retold in many different forms over the centuries.  I even participated in a reimagining of the story with cues taken from The Princess Bride while I was in college.  In my opinion, it’s a story that highlights three parts of human nature:

1. Personally testing the rules put in place by others for one’s own good, only to find out through much pain that they are true.  (The prodigal son)
2. Having love override all negative behaviors to bring about a restoration of peace, despite a lack of justice.  (The father)
3. Being frustrated and angry over a lack of justice and wanting a situation of “fairness” to exist.  (The brother)

I’ve felt all of these feelings at different times in my life.  Is the Gosselin saga an appropriate narrative to apply the principles of this parable?

It’s hard not to love this story and the people involved in it.

After being recut to a more “audience friendly” length of 106 minutes, this trailer was made to promote the film for its release on DVD:

Click here to view the embedded video.

If the images of Jessica Biel dancing as a stripper garner your attention, then you will be pleased to discover that those scenes were kept in the movie, and are extensive.  In fact, in many circles, this film is known as “the movie where Jessica Biel finally takes her top off”.  Like “Havoc” and “The Gift“, the exposure of the female form from a formerly wholesome teenage actress threatens to overshadow the aim and theme of the movie containing it.  While that is an interesting topic on its own, it is better to discuss the movie’s intended theme (in this reviewer’s opinion), namely:  loneliness.

The setting of the film is Los Angeles, in present day, in the week preceding Christmas.  Although it is one of the largest cities in the world, feelings of alienation and disconnection are common.  If it is true that our past experiences and thoughts work to create present reality, the four main characters carry those heavy burdens in their eyes.  The least well known actor of the four, Eddie Redmayne, just looks lonely.  Being a mortician and a puppeteer, his character, Qwerty, spends much of his time with people who cannot respond to (or hurt) him.

The other characters are isolated by the results of past behavior and either blame themselves, God, or both.  No matter who is to blame, without peers, or a healthy social system to give perspective to their experiences, their loneliness is perpetuated.  For Forrest Whitaker‘s and Ray Liotta‘s characters, it’s haunting to watch them struggle against their past, and continually find their present unchanged.  Jessica Biel‘s portrayal of Rose Johnny is uneven, but was perhaps deliberately so to display some schizophrenic tendencies as a coping mechanism.

Overall, the movie succeeds in portraying loneliness in a vast sea of people, with no visual portrayals of crowds or masses of humanity included.  In an effort not to spoil too much of the movie, let’s just stop with saying that relationships are as vital to healthy human behavior as any moral code or doctrine for living.

In summary, the dedication of the directors, producers, and actors of this film deserved a better final product than the one that ultimately made it onto DVD this summer.  Not every story in this medium fits into a 90-110 minute window to maximize theatre screen turnover.  Character development was lost in an effort to translate emotion and experience with a type of cinema editing shorthand, and the viewer suffers because of it.  All in all, the movie is definitely worth renting, and if a director’s cut is released, worth a closer look again.

Click here to view the embedded video.

This CNN.com article tells more about the details of the extortion attempt, and the 15 years in prison that the suspect, Robert “Joe” Halderman, is facing if convicted.  It also speaks of the crowd’s response to his apology, which is what I would like to discuss here.

The overall sentiment of the audience seemed to be one of compassion and forgiveness.  There was only one quote in the article.  But judging by the crowd’s reaction to his comments, it seemed to be indicative of most present:

You could tell he’d been though a difficult situation and that he was sorry that he hurt other people, but he was also able to keep it funny, throw humor into it, too.

Now it may be too early too early to start judging this, but it is currently fresh in a lot of our minds.  Since the story just broke last week, it is interesting how quickly the public has been willing and able to forgive Letterman his transgressions.  It flies in the face of the adage:  ”Time heals all wounds”.

In the last week, we have talked about Roman Polanski, Jon Gosselin, and now David Letterman.  Three different men, with three different circumstances with females, and three different public responses.

Other than from his own peers, most of the public opinion (and some Hollywood opinion apparently) on Polanski is that he is guilty and should not be shown any leniency because of his age, celebrity, or citizenship status.  While his behavior violated a trust between two people, it also violated our laws to protect children, and the public outrage may be louder due the clear process of investigation and possible punishment that he is avoiding.  Still, the fact that Polanski fled the country and the situation did not garner much support then, and it would not now either.

Jon Gosselin’s affairs have been blasted on the front of nearly every celebrity magazine and website that exists over the last 9 months.  Whether he thought his private indiscretions would stay private, or if he was banking on the goodwill he gained as a “Super-dad” of 8 kids to counterbalance his actions, it’s pretty clear that he was wrong.  Although he made a half-hearted apology, public opinion on Mr. Gosselin is still decidedly against him.  He still hasn’t fully owned up to his actions, and forgiveness has not been offered in lieu of that.

David Letterman took a direct path to reconciliation and forgiveness, by taking responsibility for his actions.  Even the attorney for Mr. Halderman noted how quickly Letterman addressed this, saying:

He wanted to get out ahead of the story and that’s exactly what he did.

Whether it was an attempt to get ahead of the story or a sincere mea culpa, the effect is hard to dispute:  people value the truth.  When you are honest about your behavior, even if it is offensive, you are more likely to be accepted and forgiven by your peers or your society.  Well, unless you are not believed or trusted.  That’s another story altogether.

Thoughts?