I’m Tired of Tiger

Is anyone else sick of all this?

Is anyone else sick of our perverse – morose! – fascination with the rich and famous? Is anyone else – in a world of hunger and war and poverty and climate change and recession and failing schools – sick of seeing the same name in the headlines for two weeks (until another rich and famous person gets caught in the act)?

Is anyone else sick of wondering whether the media frenzy is fed by the public’s fascination, or whether the public’s fascination is fed by the media frenzy?

And is anyone else sick of hearing how Tiger Woods can use PR to rehabilitate himself?

That same night that Woods crashed his car, and Elin decided to play golf at 2:45 a.m., thousands of other cheating husbands (and wives) were discovered by their spouses, all across America. That same night, thousands of other couples across America were involved in domestic violence. Thousands of other families were broken apart by the revelations of outsiders. And thousands of other children saw the patterns of their family life snap, but didn’t understand how or why.

Why, then, this morbid fascination with the rich and famous in our society – especially when they screw up? Is it because, as some say, the common man (or woman) takes a secret thrill in seeing famous people brought down? Is it a class-hatred thing? Are we all just voyeurs? Or are we interested out of some sense of justice…because the Tiger Woods’ and the Eliot Spitzers and the A-Rods and the Mark Sanfords and the John Edwards’ of the world bit off more than they could (or should) chew? Or is it because the media doesn’t tell us about those thousands of other people caught cheating by their spouses every day?

I’ve seen Tiger’s house (the one in South Florida, anyway). His wife is beautiful. His children are precious. Why, when someone reaches his status in life, does it never seem to be enough? And why do we obsess over it?

Right now, his life is ruined. And he may never be able to put the private side of it back together.

But he needn’t worry all that much about the public side. He needn’t worry about whether public relations can rehabilitate his image. He needn’t worry about whether people will buy the products he’ll still be endorsing after the smoke clears. He needn’t worry that people will no longer want to see him play golf.

Because, as sure as I’m writing this and you’re reading it, within a couple of weeks, another celebrity will get caught…at something. Then we’ll obsess over that person. And Tiger will eventually become a distant memory.

I’m sick of hearing about Tiger!!

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