first snow

The season's first snowfall. It was a whirling, swirling, beautifully dashing dance. It came suddenly, a like toddler's temper tantrum and stopped just as suddenly. There were hardly any traces of snow, save for a cluttering of flakes here and there.

For the past few days I've been thinking much about Tiger's "indiscretions." For some reason, it deeply hurt the romantic inside. Yet another disappointment, albeit from a star athlete with millions at stake. What makes a man risk it all for a few moments of lustful, sexual pleasure? The man truly had it all. The world was his proverbial oyster. As much money as one can dream of, talent leagues beyond his peers, two daughters and a beautiful wife. Who are we kidding? A hot ass wife.

It got me that all the media outlets kept emphasizing Elin's beauty. It was reported again and again that she was a former Swedish model. The news repeated that Tiger's wife was beautiful. Many people were confused because they couldn't understand how he could be unfaithful to his beautiful wife.

Would it make any difference if she were average, nay, ugly? Clinton's "indiscretions" were laughed at, made into the punchline for all late night hosts. But people merely shrugged their shoulders. Obviously, Monica isn't as much of a looker as Elin, but really. We're talking about the leader of the free world. He cheated on his intelligent, strong (too strong?), cankle-cursed wife. How come people weren't as outraged then?

I guess the pretty people get most of the luck, all the sympathy.