"JE SUIS desole ... Lo siento ... Ik ben droving ... Sono piacente ... Perdoname... Gomensai..."

Above are a few of the foreign translations for "I'm Sorry."

There was an Elton John song back in the '70s titled "Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word." Well, not these days! Bad behavior, followed by apologies of varying sincerity are rife.

Maybe it started with Hugh Grant, back when he had to go on Jay Leno's show and apologize for straying with a hooker. At the time he was cohabiting with one of the most gorgeous actresses in the world -- Elizabeth Hurley. Hugh squirmed and so did his audience. (The person he needed to apologize to was Miss Hurley. Personally, I couldn't have cared less.)

EVER SINCE, there's been an avalanche of public regret. Remember the excellent writer James Frey groveling in front of Oprah? (His book, highly promoted by Oprah wasn't entirely true-to-life.) I want to emphasize here that "A Million Little Pieces" is a fabulous memoir, which stretches things a bit. I said at the time that Oprah should have simply handed Frey a gun so he could kill himself on air!

Then there was the head of Hermes in Paris apologizing to Oprah. (The talk show queen and her friend Tina Turner had been turned away from his glamorous shop. Hermes said the store was closed, Oprah thought it was something else.) And we can't forget Mel Gibson's apology for spouting drunken anti-Semitic remarks.

More recently, we had a politician, Joe Wilson, of "You lie!" fame, apologizing, but not very sincerely, to the President. (This bad behavior made Wilson a somebody; nobody had much heard of him before that.) There was our heroine and champ Serena Williams apologizing for unsportsmanlike profanity on the tennis court. The adulterous governor of North Carolina apologizing endlessly, in tears, but refusing to step down from his job after admitting to adultery with his Argentinian passion. We could go on and on, but let's end with Kanye West. He apologized three times for ruining Taylor Swift's win at the Video Music Awards. (She's doing just fine anyway; it's Kanye's tour that's been canceled.)

NOW COMES someone who revealed his bad behavior and has to admit it on air because he is being victimized by a blackmailer. He expresses concern for his family, the other women involved, and for his own possibly precarious employment. But he never uttered the words, "I'm sorry!" He merely said on air that he probably wouldn't address the matter again.

I do mean, of course, David Letterman.

I'm not a big fan. I think Letterman's general behavior toward women is either to slavishly fawn over big sexy stars while being snarky and somewhat disagreeable to those he doesn't want to flirt with. It's his privilege and probably he's right not to say, "I'm sorry" to anyone but his wife and employer.

I'm sure he isn't sorry for past affairs with staffers, even if they are squeamish-making, ethically challenged and, in Letterman's own words -- "creepy."

His audiences and fans will doubtless totally forgive him and his employers definitely want to, as there is so much money at stake, and in a day or two, all will be forgiven even if he didn't say he was "sorry."

JUST IN case you think this column's opening indicates that I'm fluid in languages; I'm not. Those "I'm sorrys" come from a past Madonna song. Of course, it wasn't about the star saying she was sorry. She never seems to say that, not even musically. She might say, "I don't know what I was thinking when I did that!" Or, "It's supposed to be ironic!" But she keeps apologies private. If she started saying "Mujhe maaf" -- the Hindu words of regret -- we'd know the Apocalypse had arrived.

NOW FOR something nice and entirely different.

This theater season looks most promising. Seldom have so many stars, major playwrights, good directors been scheduled on-and-off-Broadway. I went to a warm and wonderful opening in my favorite Broadway house, The Music Box. (Once owned by Irving Berlin and I hope you didn't say, "Who?")

Playwright Tracy Letts, honored with a Pulitzer and other top Broadway awards for his recent "August: Osage County," has his latest play, a comedy called "Superior Donuts," onstage along with its at least 14 producers. (These include the redoubtable, brand-new titan, Jeff Richards, and one of the nicest people in theater, Dasha Epstein.) Let's let our kudos include the ace director Tina Landau and the Steppenwolf people who run that most adventurous regional theater in Chicago. We're always in their debt.

The entire "Donuts" company is enchanting. The lead is Michael McKean as an aging hippie, gray ponytail and T-shirts intact who runs his father's rundown donut shop. He is bored, so he hires a young black man -- thereby a Broadway star is born. Jon Michael Hill, 24, is magical in a role that ironically follows his personal desires. It seems to have been written for him. When he asks his boss to name 10 black poets, the boss can only come up with a few names. Hill yells, "It's like George Bush on 'Jeopardy.'"

Opening night was packed with celebs and a grand party after at the Redeye Grill. There was Liev Schreiber, Alan Alda, Laura Benanti, Steven Pasquale, Elaine Stritch, Norman Lewis, LaChaze, Bobby Cannavale, Phyllis Newman, Joan Rivers and more, all wearing smiles that you'll be wearing as you leave "Superior Donuts."

Here's a show making its own stars overnight and it's a hit, I hope, from word-of-mouth. Sample a few forbidden sweets and "Enjoy!"

(E-mail Liz Smith at MES3838@aol.com, or write to her c/o Tribune Media Services, 2225 Kenmore Ave., Suite 114, Buffalo, NY 14207.)