WHAT’S IN A DAME: Where’s that long overdue apology?

— Think back. Way back. Do you remember Anita Hill?

The woman who, in 1991, accused now Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas of sexual harassment during his Senate confirmation hearing?

Virginia Thomas, the judge’s wife, remembers her - the woman who claimed her husband spoke provocatively and referred to pornographic movies when she worked for him in two federal government jobs.

And all these many years later, 19 to be exact, she wants an apology from Hill.

Virginia Thomas recently dialed up Hill, now a Brandeis University professor, and left a voice-mail message. Hill told campus police about the call, and they reportedly contacted the FBI.

“I just wanted to reach across the airwaves and the years and ask you to consider something,” Thomas said. “I would love you to consider an apology sometime and some full explanation of why you did what you did with my husband. So give it some thought and certainly pray about this and come to understand why you did what you did. OK, have a good day.”

An “olive branch” Thomas labeled this rather prickly appeal to Hill in a later statement.

“Inappropriate” Hill called Thomas’ call, in a statement of her own: “I have no intention of apologizing because I testified truthfully about my experience and I stand by that testimony.”

I don’t believe Thomas was wrong for asking.

Bitter, sulky, resentful and brooding, maybe. But not wrong.

The more I think about this situation, and the more I think back about my situations from 19 long years ago, hey, I’m owed some seriously overdue “I’m so sorrys” too!

I want an apology from:

The discount salon and the manufacturer of the permanent wave they used and White Rain aerosol spray for the horrid, huge hair I had.

The facial cleanser company whose products caused me to break out before my senior pictures were taken.

The oral surgeon who extracted my wisdom teeth during the first week of “keyboarding” class, ensuring I’d never quite type numbers or the top line of letter keys properly.

My trigonometry teacher for wasting my time (no, I definitely did not need to know that stuff) and my parents’ money (and, no, I definitely did not need a tutor to not-know that stuff).

The regular customer at the mall coffee bar who gave me a complex, insisting I couldn’t craft a cappuccino properly.

The motor vehicles folks for denying my first license attempt (over parallel parking, which allegedly mattered before cars did stuff like that for you) and giving me a failure complex. So that was more like 21 years ago. But I’m that scarred.

Grunge for the bad clothes.

Jared for not having a crush on me. And Gary, Ryan, Jim, Tim and Scott, too.

Doritos and Nissin, maker of ramen noodles, for contributing to my weight problem, which prevented Jared, Gary, Ryan, Jim, Tim and Scott from having crushes on me. Wait, this was 19 years ago. Were those even their names?

I’ll be sorry if you don’t e-mail: [email protected] What’s in a Dame is a weekly report from the woman ’hood.

Style, Pages 29 on 10/26/2010

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