A couple years ago a friend of mine asked me the following.
Would you be willing to give George W a blow job every day for a year if it meant getting him out of office immediately?
That was the deal. W leaves office tomorrow. And you give him a blow job every day for one year.
I paused. I felt like I ought to be willing to. It would be the right thing to do. But after some thought I said no. I just couldn't do it.
And honestly, I've regretted it ever since.
Every time you read about something atrocious, horrible, or just plain stupid that he's done, which, let's face it, is at least once a day, I've thought, "God, I totally should have said yes."
I've felt guilty. Why don't I think beyond myself? I should think on a more global scale. How big a deal would it be in the scheme of things?
And so on and so forth.
This has been the case for ages.
And, then, just this past weekend, I realized that I've been carrying this regret around for no reason whatsoever. Because it's not like my answer actually mattered. It would have changed, um, absolutely nothing.
Like, if I'd said, "Sure. I'll do it for my country! For the world!" history would have been altered?
Honestly. Who am I?