We need to watch someone famous have a hideous life, and Tiger Woods delivers. While you’re at it, media people, keep the revelations rolling, because the talk is running thin and I just can’t bear to turn back to myself. What might I have to see if I left the flatscreened, sizzling Tiger debates for the bathroom mirror of my own image? That seems to be how everyone is acting out and admitting to me, intimately or in passing.
The other night, I ran into a family I slightly know who stopped me in a restaurant en route to my table. Sitting across from the mother and father was their 40-something attorney son whose head was down and buried in the National Enquirer. When he looked up, I playfully pointed to the gossip rag with a “What’s up with that?” expression, whereby he instantly flipped the cover over and I flipped an enormous white napkin over it. He grinned and said in a matter-of-fact monotone, “I’m bored and tired in my days. I can’t get enough Tiger. I need more trashiness. It’s how I unwind”. It is moments like these where I wish I had a tape recorder. The guy was adamant. Tiger is currently sitting in for whatever help he probably needs.
Why are we all so desperate to have the trains of our focus derailed, stalled, and repetitively rerouted that we can’t get enough Tiger? This is not just a lone anecdote about one possibly depressed person desperate for personal escape. Rachel Ray said the exact same thing on The Joy Behar Show last week. “I can’t get enough Tiger!” she exclaimed. What does this mean? Do we have to find some public person to humiliate and rip apart so that we may feel whole? Putting aside the question of who may have specifically masterminded the continuous loopy headlining of this story, providing a round of nationally-imposed ADD, in avoidance of god-knows-what (Afghanistan, anyone?), I do wonder.
Why are perfectly reasonable talk show hosts(yes, they do exist) insisting that each guest be asked, out of nothing, what they think of Tiger being in or out of the Woods? Besides being nakedly deliberate, awkward, and inorganic, to dredge up the subject is especially absurd when featured guests who are totally disconnected from Tiger Woods are demanded to weigh in on his sexuality to continue just plain on-air gossiping instead of well, having a real, worthwhile conversation.
We’ve all seen these shows. When you identify it next time, you may be surprised at the strength and obviousness in imposing specific agenda topics, where guests are appearing for their own reasons and are redirected to the Tiger Tale. The universe of discussion points and current events is rife with important matters. We would be well served to hear real thought rather than the repetitive microwaved mindlessness of TigerSex and soulless reality-show circus performers.
There is too much to say about why we feel the need to escape through trash, and too little space at this moment. I’m cerainly not finished, nor is the media. In the December 14, 2009, edition of New York Magazine, the Tiger story unfurls into the matter of covering your public ass, should the need arise. In the subtitled piece, “Tiger’s Real Mistake“, Dan Klores Communications president Sean Cassidy offers his best advice: “When you leave holes in the story, it leaves room for interpretation….As a rule, the quicker you get in front of the truth the better.” Here’s my advice: Rather than getting “in front”, behind, or to varying degrees on the left or right, why don’t we finally stand INSIDE our truth? We don’t need a lesson on how better to spin. We need to know we’re spinning, and figure out why we are desperate for Tiger to spin us away.