The one where I intellectualize our Tiger Woods obsession

[photo from buzzfeed]

I tend to over intellectualize things that I know are not the awesomest. Like Medium; I say I enjoy this show because it is a good portrayal of a working mother in a loving and sometimes complicated relationship with her husband. Or Grey's Anatomy for its awesome diverse cast of characters (and not just skin deep diversity, but diversity of backgrounds).

Which brings me to Tiger Woods. I've seen him play on television occasionally (in between naps). I don't watch golf voluntarily, I don't find it particularly exciting, and while I can appreciate his talent, I generally don't care that much about him.

Which I assume is what most people felt. We admire his hard work and talent, but unless we enjoy golf... that's where our thoughts about him stopped.

Until we found out that he slept with about 100 cocktail waitresses and porn stars (I haven't been keeping count after 3). Suddenly the Huffington Post has a page periodically updated with mistress photos and videos. Commentators offer their opinions on cable networks. The late night comedians have a field month.

Why? Two reasons:

1. Tiger was too good to be true, and now we have proof. Classic fall from grace. He's talented, he has a pretty wife, he's got beautiful children, and he's rich. We love this fall from grace. No one can be that great -- if only so they don't make us feel bad about not being so great. We love this so much: "Yeah, he has talent, but he can't keep his personal life straight!"

2. We are natural voyeurs (this is, unfortunately, the reason that reality television exists). We're all peeping toms, just a little bit, but instead of peeking into his windows we're thumbing through the tabloids and online. We are naturally curious about the lives of others. Its instinct; its how we learn how to live our own lives, from the trial and error of others.

For my part? I know way more about this than I should. My RSS reader gets the Full Feed from Huffington Post which gives me the up to date info as soon as it happens. (I need to rethink the HuffPo, because they are the reason I know about OctoMom). And I have to admit, the illustration above is awesome. And without the constant coverage seeping into my brain, I wouldn't find it funny.

So feel better if you think you know too much about Tiger Wood's bedroom. Its just your natural voyeurism kicking in.