Vanity Fair has decided that we need to be acquainted with Tiger’s Tattletale Women. The photo feature in the May 2010 edition looks more like Playboy eye-candy than a doctors’ office read. I don’t give a flip about Tiger Woods, although I must concede he’s a hot news commodity. I just don’t need this kind of hot staring me down from the grocery store shelf. He’s been to therapy, the Masters are over, so enough already. Can’t we avoid giving his call girls a celebrity launching pad? I guess when they told us to write to a 13-year-old audience in journalism school that this is what they meant. Geez. I thought Vanity Fair was a bit more high-brow.
Meanwhile, Entertainment Tonight is airing installments from Hector, the baseball coach, who is claiming a recent affair with Larry King’s wife, Shawn. I have a hard time imagining that little league baseball or even Larry King are truly entertainment, but hey, it’s a 24-7 news cycle and it begs to be fed. And Hector probably is hoping for a modeling job. I doubt that he’s still coaching the young King boys on their batting technique.
In March we had a parade of stories detailing the colorful body shop hook-ups of Jesse James, Sandra Bullock’s husband. I still haven’t gotten used to the idea of him as a real celebrity and now his freak-showesque harem is vying for the microphone. I smell a few book deals underneath all that ink. And, maybe another Oscar nod for Sandy.
A few months ago it was impossible to avoid the news trickle about Rielle Hunter (nee Lisa Jo Druck) who destroyed John Edwards’ marriage and political career with the introduction of baby Quinn. Riellly, do we need all the details? Does Elizabeth deserve this embarrassment? Do we have to know about the videotape?
And, Eliot Spitzer is back in the news now that his New York Madam has announced she’s running for governor on the Libertarian ticket with a pitch to legalize prostitution. I can only imagine the campaign parties.
It seems the truth is stranger than fiction these days. I thought the news was supposed to be about things that rarely happen. I think that calls for some stories about happy-ever-afters among regular folks from Iowa.
