Attributing Blame

Can there be a more socially painful experience than getting burned toasting the Queen of England? Well, yeah. There was that time in eighth grade when I crashed my ten-speed in front of Sally Maxwell’s house, in front of Sally Maxwell. But who can blame a pubescent boy for losing gross motor control when he is smitten? At least Sally was one person, not a roomful of dignitaries at a state dinner. Predictably, cyberspace was crackling after President Obama inadvertently …

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