Look, I know the big fishing trip didn’t turn out the way we had all wanted, and for that I am sorry.

When we rented that fishing vessel, we all had high hopes. For example, I wanted to get my picture taken with a big fish and post it to Facebook in hopes my ex-wife would see it and be impressed enough to give me back custody of my kids. Sadly, this did not come to fruition.

I would like to take this opportunity to accept responsibility for my wrongdoings and acknowledge their role in ruining the day.

By the time I realized that what I heard was not a siren song, but a bunch of drunken frat dudes on a sports boat blasting “One Week” by the Barenaked Ladies, it was too late.

First, I’m sorry I kept going to the helm and telling the Captain, “I’m the Captain now,” and when he didn’t laugh, regaling him with the tale of brave Captain Phillips by reciting the film’s major plot points. I was not aware that he had in fact seen Captain Phillips, and the reason he wasn’t laughing was because he found my impression unfunny and overdone.

When the Captain told me to leave him alone, my feelings got hurt. As you all remember, this was when I called for a mutiny. That decision was extremely misguided for several reasons, not least of all the fact that the Captain was much stronger than me and easily forced my submission with a headlock.

However, I will say this: if you all had supported me and mutinied, we could have simply enjoyed an afternoon of fishing. We would have all been co-Captains and done a fine job. Friendship means backing each other up; it doesn’t matter if a friend is considering a career change, dealing with the loss of a family member, or trying to usurp the authority of a ship’s Captain: friends support each other.

Sure, once I frantically apologized, the Captain let me go. Physically, I was fine. I just wish that I could say the same about my ego. I’m ashamed to admit that I got so mad I pushed him overboard while his back was turned. At that point, I figured, “I’ve been joking about being the Captain, but it looks like now I’ve truly become the Captain.”

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Did I have experience steering a ship of that size, measuring depth of water to ensure safe sailing, reading nautical gauges to verify proper levels of hydraulic fluid, signaling passing vessels to avoid collisions, or even the most basic understanding of the laws of the sea? No. But what I did have was determination and the ability to work well under pressure.

It turns out these skills alone are not enough to captain a ship, which I quickly discovered.

To my credit, I think I was doing a pretty decent job until the sea madness set in. I began to hear the sirens singing their beautiful song and was powerless to prevent myself from steering the ship towards that magical sound that graced my ears. By the time I realized that what I heard was not a siren song, but a bunch of drunken frat dudes on a sports boat blasting “One Week” by the Barenaked Ladies, it was too late.

After we crashed and both ships sank, my behavior towards the Coast Guard can only be described as reprehensible. I should not have egged them on by saying, “Oh look, the fish pigs are here. And to clarify, I am using the term ‘pigs’ as in the derogatory insult for the police, and the word ‘fish’ to belittle you for patrolling the sea. I am not referring to some sort of hybrid aquatic/farm creature, but instead, I am giving you two separate insults.” The mockery was bad enough, and I only made matters worse by trying to explain this really good joke, which I think we all can agree did not need further explanation.

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Furthermore, I should not have tried to prove I was stronger than the officers by trying to swim 15 miles to shore. I was behaving childishly, and for that I am embarrassed, especially because I only made it a few feet away before something touched my foot in the water. I assumed it to be a shark, but later learned it was just a piece of the boombox from which “One Week” was playing, the very object that caused the crash in the first place.

So for all of this, I am sorry.

I would love to say it won’t happen again, but that’s a promise I simply cannot make. In fact, given everything I know about myself, it seems not only possible that it will happen again, but probable. I can’t control that.

What I can control is my ability to learn from my mistakes and see opportunities like these as a chance to improve myself. I would love to schedule another fishing trip. I should be free in eight years (assuming good behavior), after I have served my prison sentence for the crimes I committed that day.

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