On Sunday, while I was standing in someone’s kitchen gazing out the window, a man walked up to me, extended his hand and said, “I’m Rick James!” and then looked expectantly at me.

If only we not been at a baptismal reception for a four-month old. If only we had not been surrounded by hoards of small, impressionable children. If only this man had not been over the age of 60. If only God had dealt me this hand at some other time, in a non-G-rated environment. Then, dear friends, I would have delivered, I would have met this man’s salutation with an expected, “…B*TCH!” and then followed it with an eerily appropriate, “IT’S A CELEBRATION!”

But I failed. And I will likely never have such a golden opportunity again. I’m sorry.