Where's the Balloon Boy When You Need Him?

Maybe we're all just tired from the Thanksgiving weekend followed by a five-day work week. Maybe the recession has us all in a funk. Maybe we're all just demented.

Regardless of the reason, Tiger Woods has suddenly captured the world's attention beyond anything he ever imagined on the golf course.

I have no desire to think about this, yet alone talk about it, so I will keep it short and sweet:

1. As my brother Kevin would say, "It is nunya," as in "nunya business."
2. In case you haven't noticed, Tiger is just a golfer; nothing more, nothing less.
3. In case you haven't noticed, we are still in a global recession.
4. In case you haven't noticed, our President has vowed to send 30,000 more troops to Afghanistan.
5. In case you haven't noticed, the holiday season (peace on Earth, good will toward men) is upon us.

I get the initial surprise of a little boy trapped in a balloon or an actor caught picking up a transvestite prostitute or a national leader having oral sex in the White House or a golfer driving his car into a fire hydrant. I get it. It is virtually impossible to not look into the sun during an eclipse. I get it.

But why do we insist on continuing to stare after the initial impulse? I don't get that.

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere

Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad