easy, tiger

So, who else watched the Tiger Woods’ Public Apology Dog-and-Pony Show last Friday?

Yeah, me neither.

Really, I don’t get it.  I don’t understand why we’re still talking about Woods’ affairs, and I understand even less why he has to hold a national press conference to apologize to humanity for being an unfaithful piece of shit.  Does he owe his wife an apologize?  Obviously.  His children?  Absolutely.  His family and friends?  Hell yes.  But the general American public?  Why?  As a member of the general American public, I don’t feel like Woods owes me an apology for anything (except maybe for not having an affair with me, thus preventing me from extorting millions of dollars in hush money from him.  Then again, Woods is hardly my athlete of choice.)

No, Woods had to go on national TV and flagellate himself because, frankly, American society as a whole has some of the most twisted, perverse, fucked-up attitudes about sex as ever I have seen.  We are a culture that glorifies sex while at the same time damning anyone who dares to participate in or, God forbid, enjoy the act itself.  The temptation for sex is everywhere, from advertising to entertainment to current fashion trends – and that’s not even counting our natural, biological instincts and urges.  But give in to that temptation, and you become a symbol of depravity and savageness, are branded a sex addict, and shipped off to rehab to be “cured.”  We’re like Jesus in the desert, constantly being tempted to the dark side by the Devil, except, instead of forty days and forty nights, it’s eternal.  But trust me, if you give into temptation, there is hell to pay, celebrity and civilian alike.

Look, I’m no psychologist, and I do think there are people out there who can develop a dependency on sexual activity that negatively impacts their lives.  But there has to be a line between being a sex addict and, well, being a human who made some bad choices, and I think Woods falls more into the latter category than the former.  He pretty much said so, according to The New York Times: “Woods said he had mistakenly believed that his enormous success and celebrity made him entitled ‘to enjoy all the temptations around me.’ He added: ‘I was wrong. I was foolish. I don’t get to play by different rules.’”

Well, no shit, Sherlock.  Being a talented, athletic, ridiculously wealthy megalomaniac does not make your wedding vows null and void.  It also doesn’t necessarily make you a sex addict.  If having gratuitous sense of power, self-importance and entitlement means your a sex addict, then there are a hell of a lot more sex addicts out there than we think.  All things considered, Woods would probably be better served by some sort of power rehab and a good dose of humility.

But what fun would that be for the teeming masses?  How could we salivate for every juicy detail of his trysts while simultaneously being offended and disgusted by them?  How could we ruthlessly judge a man we once revered?  Everyone knows one of America’s favorite pastimes is to put celebrities up on pedestals just so we can knock them down and feel better about our sad, mundane, empty little lives.  We want to watch Woods’ press conference from atop our high horses and tell ourselves that, were we in his position, we would have been far more moral and upstanding; but all the while we know, in the back of our minds, if we had his money, power, and ability to get people to take their clothes off, we would be the kid in the candy store just as much as he was.

In no way am I condoning cheating here.  Infidelity is wrong.  What Tiger did was wrong, and I am not about to defend him.  If I were Elin, I’d have divorce papers on his desk and his balls on a pike in my front yard for all the dicking around he did.  But I’m not Elin, and how she chooses to handle this is, like all other aspects of this debacle, between her and her husband.  It’s none of my business, and it’s certainly none of the American public’s.

tasteless discretion is the name of the game

I apologize once again for the delay in posting, which was brought to you courtesy of my roommate Carly’s new Wii and Beatles Rock Band.  On the bright side, I had a high score of 88% on drums on “Come Together,” so my practice is starting to pay off.

Anyhow, let’s get down to brass tacks…I’m thinking about Tiger Woods this morning, mainly because, well, who isn’t thinking about Tiger Woods these days?  Also, there was some golf expert dude being interviewed on “Good Day Philadelphia” this morning as I was getting ready for work.  That confused me, because as far as I know, Woods’ only connection to Philadelphia is that in 2008 he was in talks to hold his AT&T National at the Aronmink Golf Club in Newtown Square.  Why then would a Philadelphia news show (well, news-ish) feel the need to host a guest to dissect his personal life?  Oh, that’s right, because we, the populace, like a pack of starved wolves, love nothing better than to sink our teeth into the tender flesh of a sacrificial lamb.

Okay, I understand that our societal constructs dictate that in exchange for his talent, wealth and celebrity status, Woods is required to relinquish a modicum of privacy.  I understand why celebrities like Woods cheat – for the same reasons anyone else does, combined with the added incentive of crazy-hot women throwing themselves at you, and a sense of entitlement that comes from people kissing your ass 24/7.  I understand why one of the general public’s favorite pasttimes is putting celebrities up on a pedestal, only to kick out the legs of the chair and see them tumble from grace.  It’s a little bit of jealousy, a little bit of schadenfreude; celebrities have it all – talent, looks, privilege, power, obscene amounts of money.  Frankly, the general population would commit mass suicide if we couldn’t find some aspect of their lives that was less-than-perfect.

What I don’t understand is why, whenever the story breaks that a celebrity has cheated on his or her spouse, everyone acts like that celebrity is the first person in the history of the world to commit such an unspeakable act, like he or she invented the concept of infidelity.

Um, sorry to kill your shiny, happy rainbows-and-unicorns buzz, everyone, but infidelity has been around just as long as monogamy and matrimony.  The numbers and attitudes towards infidelity vary depending on culture and time period, but rest assured, as long as people – and celebrities are people, too -  have been alive and breathing and have sexual and emotional desires, cheating has occurred.

The difference between affairs then and affairs now is a matter of a little thing called discretion – i.e., whereas people once did have discretion, they don’t anymore.  To be sure, there have been leaks or rumors of many affairs involving famous people over the years – JFK and Marilyn Monroe, Prince Edward of Wales and Wallis Simpson,  and Thomas Jefferson and Sally Hale come to mind – but the level of transparency was nothing like it is now.  For sure, Marilyn Monroe was not giving interviews to US Weekly or leaking voice messages from Jack Kennedy to the press.  Maybe it was because he could have had her whacked by the mob for going public about their affair, or maybe it was because she had a little bit of class and dignity, and didn’t want any more of her personal life splashed across the pages of newspapers and magazines.

But the Clinton-Lewinsky sex scandal of the late 90s sounded the death knell for that kind of discretion, and the advent of the Internet and 24/7 media coverage, combined with a cultural attitude that anyone can be a celebrity, even for something as insignificant and private as having sex with someone, has officially declared discretion DOA.  R.I.P.

In a way, I feel bad for Woods and his family.  Not that he cheated, because it was a poor choice, and not that he got caught, because when you make poor choices, they catch up with you eventually, but that this extremely private, personal matter has to be played out on a national stage, for an audience of people who once exalted him.  Yes, he fucked up, and yes, he has to pay the consequences, but to his wife and family, the ones he wronged.  Shame on him, but shame on us, too, for creating the demand for the drama that he and other celebs supply.   I know in today’s world of Twitter and Facebook statuses and YouTube videos and personal blogs (natch), nothing is sacred and even more so, nothing is private, but it might be worth reminding ourselves that some aspects of our lives can, and should, be private.  After all, how would you like to have your personal life dissected on live television?

Yeah, that’s what I thought.