Apologies are a first world problem. Sometimes, the apology is pro-forma, as in “I am sorry if anyone was offended by my words.” Sometimes, an apology is heartfelt and spontaneous, although it is telling that I can’t immediately come up with one of those.And then you have the apologies that will send you into a diabetic coma if you have Type II, the kind of mea culpa that makes wearing a hair shirt or lying on a bed of nails seem tame in comparison.