And so we witness the demise, or apparent setback in popularity, of Tiger Woods, iconic golf master with the handsome looks and mastery of the game all mixed in with that squeaky clean persona, the kind of guy any decent girl would want to take home to mom and say “look mom, he’s rich and cute and o so nice.”
But why do we even know about his affairs? It’s a media feeding frenzy because whatever bleeds supposedly leads, regardless if it’s real or emotional blood. Yes, that’s true but there’s more to it than that I think.
It’s the old Icarus and Daedalus story told all over again. “Don’t fly too high,” Icarus warns his son. “The sun will melt the wax that holds together your wings and you will drown in the sea.”
So what does any dare devil son do when his father warns him not to do something? He does it of course. I’m my own man he says triumphantly. And so he pays the price like all the others who’ve followed him.
It’s a different world that the rich and famous and powerful live in. Once you have access to anything you want and all doors open for you, you begin to feel that the rules that apply to common mortals don’t apply to you. You begin to soar. It feeds your ego because you become larger than life.
I’ve stated elsewhere before, the more sun you have in your life, the more shadow there shall be. When you’re at the top, there’s only one place you can go. And that is down.
And it’s a long way down when you’re a hero in American culture. We love our heros. Especially if they are saintly, do gooders, above any kind of moral reproach. Kind of like Superman.
But as much as we want our heros to be untaintable icons of virtue, our ideals far exceed those of mortal reality. And when ideal clases with reality, the feeding frenzy starts.
But there’s also something more archetypal going on here. Something we carry deep within us in our shadow side, the side we don’t wish to acknowledge publicly. We don’t like people to fly too high because we are envious. Some of us relish when someone who flies too high gets his wings clipped, or melted. It makes us feel a little better about ourselves, makes us more comfortable with our humble place in life.
Look at any of the gossip mags you see at the check out counter in your local grocery store. They thrive on dramatic headlines that show Brad and Angelina’s marriage falling apart or Britney’s descent into the trenches of recovery. “You see,” the metamessage states. “You’re just like the rest of us. Gotta eat and sleep and use the bathroom just like anyone else on the planet.”
And so it is with Tiger. Or Paris. Or Bill Clinton. Or Bernie Madoff. Or or or, the list can go on and on. When Gods fail because they are human just like everyone else, the feeding frenzy starts. The harder they fall the more dramatic it becomes. And if it’s seedy to boot, like an affair or, gasp, many affairs, the eyes widen and the vultures stand ready to pick with moral self righteousness.
But there are others who don’t care for such media frenzies. Blessings to you. May you have many strong children and abundant prosperity and have someone to take care of you in old age.
