Driving Mrs. Crazy

I really didn't expect to find myself sitting in the middle of the newsroom with tears rolling down my cheeks earlier today, surrounded by Kenyan colleagues wondering just what the hell was wrong with me.

But they soon figured out that I was crying tears of laughter while watching a You Tube clip of last week's 'Saturday Night Live" Tiger Woods sketch. Sure, it was totally sophomoric, and made light of the serious issue of domestic violence, but I'm sorry, I laughed my ass off.

Once again, I'm feeling somewhat isolated yet privileged to be watching this bit of uniquely American melodrama unfolding while living in Kenya. Over here, the reactions range from "Why is this such a big deal?" to "See??? If he had taken the golf club to HER, it would have been a major crime!" On the one hand, like I've mentioned a few times lately, research suggests that the average Kenyan man has about 8 sexual partners, and a great many Kenyan women either don't know, don't want to know, or refuse to acknowledge the proof that's staring them in the eye. Or they agree to be one of many wives or girlfriends because that's just what men DO.

Still, quite a few women over here are applauding Elin Woods for expressing her objection to her husband's man-whorish behavior so strenuously. Others think she should just get herself tested for STD's and then spend a few months doing some hard-core retail therapy in Paris before returning to a vastly increased pre-nup. Others believe that if SHE had been guilty of adultery, he would have been obliged to beat the crap out of her with no legal interference.

All I know is that I am thoroughly disgusted by Tiger Woods, even as I'm grateful to him for further strengthening my ever-deepening suspicions about the average man. Each day spent in Kenya strengthens my belief that most men would prefer to fool around with as many sexual partners as their time, wallets and libido would allow. Even if that percentage is just 51 to 49, I'm still talking a majority. And note that I said "prefer," suggesting that even amongst that majority who think it's a good idea, there are still quite a few who have the good sense, conscience and moral fortitude to conclude that though other people make their naughty bits tingle, acting on it would betray their commitments to current partners whom they might actually respect and not wish to hurt.

It's all a simple matter of male wiring, basically. And if your culture supports a rather liberal, un-regulated use of said wiring, most men will act on it. Or, if your wallet and "fame" present you with unlimited access to sexual adventurism. Many famous professional athletes partake, and Tiger's no different than the thousands who've preceded him. Except I will say this...based on the photographic evidence, his tastes definitely tend to lean toward the less refined, to put it as gently as I know how.

Anyway, the story just keeps getting weirder and weirder, and truth be told, I'm almost starting to feel sorry for him. Based on what I'm reading, everything in his life conspired to groom him for a sense of invincibility, with no monitors, no self-regulation. All that was expected of him was that he be a demi-god on the greens. Apparently, his agents, handlers, lawyers and toadies ALL knew about the darker side, and the reckless behavior, but nobody wanted to halt the gravy train. And no disrespect to the late Earl Woods, but the fact that he apparently left a wife and three kids BEFORE Tiger came along, and was more devoted to "The Myth" than to his son, could only lead to what we're witnessing at the moment: a rudderless disaster.

But I'm sorry, I also can't help feeling just a teensy bit glad that Elin Woods went straight up Compton on his ass. I know, domestic violence is wrong no matter who's doing the beating. And God knows that young woman is suffering, no matter how many zeroes he winds up slapping onto the prenup. I mean, can you imagine trying to smile and pretend you're committed to making things work with your husband when his trail of trailer scum seems to be endless?

All of a sudden, being a 48 year old single, childless African American woman doesn't seem so bad after all. It sure feels better than being an utterly played, 29-year-old blonde beauty with 2 young children, a sex-addicted jackass for a husband, and a hundred million reasons why people around the world are pitying you, and PRAYING that you will undergo HIV tests every month for the foreseeable future.