Dad, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that your cinematography career didn't work out. I'm sorry you ended up a used car dealer. I'm sorry your family didn't work out as planned. I'm sorry that my mom is a depressed, lonely woman who is frustrated by life. I'm sorry my sister is a brat, but she isn't old enough to realize it yet. I'm sorry my brother is also a brat and refuses to realize it, and I'm sorry he's in a wheelchair, too. I'm sorry that I am not what you wanted out of your oldest child. I'm sorry that I didn't turn out to be the smart, educated, religious man that you had always dreamed of. I'm sorry that instead of a son you were proud of, I became an athiest, and hate school. Oh, and I'm sorry I'm stoned right now. I'm sorry that I'm always gone when you visit, and I'm sorry it's so hard for me to talk to you. I'm sorry that I'm not embracing Islam and my Egyptian roots, and I'm sorry that your daughter and other son don't respect you. I'm sorry that your current family is less than comfortable because of us. I wish we could have turned out the way you wanted, I really do, because I'm sorry that your life didn't turn out the way you thought it would. I'm sorry that at 50, you are a used car dealer, dealing with trashy welfare-moms, crackheads, and gangbangers every day just for a buck to send back to our bloodsucking family. You always told me when I was younger that I would look back on things and realize that you were always right when I thought you were a mean overbearing hardass. You weren't right on everything, but you were damn close. I look back on our relationship and curse my unknowingly selfish self. I'm sorry for him, too.