Okay, maybe I am the only one, but gosh darn it, I am confused! I was just sitting here reading the morning papers at my desk and I feel that the entire world has gone mad and that having any sense of reasonableness makes you look like the fool. And believe it or not, I am not even referring to Wall Street, Main Street, the sub-prime crisis, the collapse of our largest companies, the war in Iraq, Afghanistan or, most recently, India (and maybe Pakistan). What confuses me most is the fact that people who seemingly have it all, top tier athletes and celebrities, do their best to screw up their lives with a constant stream of poor judgment and bad decision making. The only upside to this is that the person in the mirror doesn’t look so bad to me in the morning. Hey, I’ll take what I can get.
Of course, these feelings of superiority could be symptomatic of the New York Post being the first paper I look at each morning. It could be that, as a lifetime New Yorker, I view everyone that traipses through my hometown with a tinge of disdain or, it could be, that I am right and that many of these people are absolute morons.
Let’s just take a look at few of the higher profile happenings of the last year. Heath Ledger OD’d. Amy Winehouse keeps OD’ing. Michael Vick fought dogs including, quite literally, throwing family pets to the wolves. Marion Jones, the poster girl for female empowerment, cheats, lies, goes to jail, gets out of jail, goes on Oprah and, and I am not joking here, lies again—about the same thing that got her sent to jail in the first place. Britney Spears OD’s (I think), has multiple, public breakdowns and, on this very day, with the launch of a new album, is treated like a Phoenix as she not only rises but possibly even assumes her former throne. And while she has been masterminding her comeback, her kid sister gets knocked up and becomes a role model for wannabe teen mothers all over America.
Obviously, the list goes on and on but I am starting to bore myself so let’s keep this moving. In the last few days in New York, the media has been consumed by Plaxico (yes, that’s his first name) Burress and to a lesser extent, his dutiful wife Tiffany. You see Plax, as he’s known to his friends, is a star football player with the championship NY Giants. This past Friday night he was out with the boys at the club, (where dutiful Tiffany was, I am not sure), when his pistol slipped down his pant leg and in an effort to grab the gun while saving his drink, he shot himself in the leg.
I know what you’re thinking. “Poor guy.” I mean it happens, right? He did just sign a new $35 million contract with the Giants which is a lot of money. That money affords him the ability to buy a lot of jewelry, carry large amounts of cash, and drive cars that, and I promise you this, cost more than the median price of a home in America by double. It stands to reason that with all of those trappings of wealth, any self-respecting young athlete should protect all that bling, cash, and cars with an unlicensed, loaded Glock handgun (that’s a really good one by the way). If the risk of that is a bullet hole to the fleshy part of the thigh, a citywide cover up and three and one half years of jail time so be it.
And just so you don’t think that Plax is the only guy in New York to be defining himself as an individual, you can always turn to our latest celebrity couple—Madge and A-Rod. Madge, fresh off the divorce from the not-terrible filmmaker and outwardly decent fellow Guy Ritchie and A-rod, star third baseman and super hunk of the New York Yankees, have a September-May, existential, transcendental Kabala thing going on. Even A-Rod’s recently x’d wife referred to it as an affair of the heart—a very understanding girl that one. But A-Rod is the father of her children so no shame in being understanding and keeping it civil. After all, it’s not like Madonna has left a trail of destruction, self-promotion, selfish behavior, and male carcasses all along the roadside for the past twenty-five years. Has she?
And again, I am sure you are saying, “Poor guy.” I mean it happens, right? A-Rod did recently sign a new $250 million contract with the Yankees which, if Plax’s $35 million was a lot, well, you get the picture. But A-Rod needs more. He needs a protector and something to make him feel that he is in control of all of the things that seem to be spinning around him. He needs …
He needs a pistol.