Remember Tiger Woods' plea for privacy a few days back?
He was right. His indiscretions, and his marital difficulties, should be none of our business.
Unfortunately, that's an idea so quaint, here in the everything's-our-business Oughts, that it could be a featured item on Antiques Roadshow.
The prurient genie is out of the bottle, see, and so let the feasting on the bones of celebrity begin. It's disgusting, it's degrading to the feasters ... and even those of us who know that's the case can't help ourselves. We lap up every word, image, innuendo.
The latest Tiger indiscretion, apparently, involves a young waitress at a diner not far from his home in Florida. I think that runs Tiger's mistress stash into double digits now, although frankly I've lost count.
Put it this way: The man puts the "X" in "extracurriculars."
And the details of his horndogging are going to keep coming out, whether he wants them to or not. That's the downside to being the greatest golfer in the world and a billionaire endorsement industry to himself. What fame gives, it also takes away -- particularly for those who assume that fame makes them impervious to the way the world works.
Tiger might have thought he could get away with all the skirt-chasing just because he's Tiger Woods and has an entire army of image-protectors. He's now getting a gruesome education otherwise.
Yo, Tiger: Perhaps you realize by now. In this day and age, a man in your kind of spotlight is never going to get away with it. Never.