oopsie daisy

Why Do We Root for Some Celebrities to Fail, but Not Others?

I originally wrote this for xoJane, but they didn't want it. I totally see why; it lacks a strong opinion, but these are still things I wonder about, so I'll post it here instead.

One of the biggest sports stories on Sunday was Tiger Woods’ collapse in the final-round of the Pebble Beach National Pro-Am. He started the day in 3rd place and, despite once being known as the king of Sunday, ended it in 15th. It’s been 29 months since Woods’ last PGA Tour win, but the theory on Sunday was, if he can just win this tournament, the scandal will finally be behind him.

I can’t imagine you haven’t heard all about the scandal, but in short, Tiger Woods cheated on his wife with numerous women. When he was finally busted, he crashed he car into a tree, took a break from golf, lost numerous sponsorships, and ultimately, got a divorce. And now he’s trying to stage a comeback and get the world to love him again. Which might be a difficult task considering he's currently ranked #2 on Forbe's "America's Most Disliked Athletes" List. (Right after Michael Vick, many of you will be elated to learn.)
 
Don’t worry. I’m not going to defend Tiger’s actions. Well, maybe a little bit in that I feel like there aren’t very many men with that much money and that much power who *don’t* cheat, but still: His wife had every right to believe that he was going to take his wedding vows seriously and now Tiger has every right to be treated by his fans like he’s the liar and cheat that is/was/whatever.
 
But that’s the thing that is interesting about celebrities. While it seems like there’s a part of us that enjoys it when they fail (based on the fact that it becomes front page “news” when they do), I also think (hope?) there is just as big of part of us that wants/enjoys when they rise from their own ashes and stage a comeback.
 
Clearly this is not so cut and dry, as we saw when I wrote about Michael Vick having served his time and therefore (in my opinion) having every right to hold down a job in the NFL. However, with Tiger Woods (and countless politicians, actors, musicians etc.), his transgression was not a legal one, but rather a moral one. Which makes me wonder...
 
How long do people deserve to be punished when they fail on a human level? Do our opinions of whether or not they are given a second chance depend on their celebrity? What are the factors that make forgiveness more difficult? (In the instance of infidelity, I suspect a few of them are: children, a wife’s illness, religion etc., but there are likely more.)

Would we (do we) hold our loved ones to the same standards we do celebrities? If infidelity is occuring because of a sex addiction, why do we judge that person more harshly than we do someone with a drug addiction? Why are we so quick to judge some people, but feel others deserve chance after chance after chance?

I don’t have the answers, but as I watched Tiger fail to do the one thing he did often and well before his downfall -- win -- I couldn’t help but wonder what’s keeping him from making his comeback. Is it because we don’t believe in him anymore? Or because he doesn’t believe in himself?

My Interview with the Bold Italic: The stuff they should've shown

The kind folks at The Bold Italic reached out to me last week asking if I wanted to be featured on their site as a "Found Local." Never one to turn down anything that's ALL ABOUT ME, I, of course, said yes.

Mat Rick, who is one of my new favorite people because he went to the 49ers NFC Championship game all by himself, sent me a list of questions which I diligently answered while in the car on the way to Tahoe. I didn't even let the fact that Campfriend's Jeep killed itself in Auburn deter me.

You can read the actual interview here (it was posted before the brutal 49ers loss in the NFC Championship, so excuse my optimism), but since they couldn't feature all of my answers, I thought I'd post the ones that weren't published here. SF represent.

 

Name: Daisy Barringer

Title: 49ers Fan, Hedonist, Non-Hugger

Neighborhood: Upper Haight, but sometimes I lie and say Cole Valley

Gig: Writer

 

SF is...

Everything I want or need in a city.

 

Where do you get your local gossip (and why)? (blog, paper, etc.)

I wish my answer were the Nob Hill Gazette, but, it’s SFist and Twitter. I’m also a masochist because I love reading the comments on SFGate. That’s not gossip as much as it is inane blather, but it’s just so entertaining.

 

Where's your go-to date place (and why)?

That’s so cute that you think people ask me out on dates.

 

Why do you love your neighborhood? 

Snob alert! I love that I’m two blocks away from Haight Street, but up such a steep hill that I can completely escape the gutter punk kids who are too lazy to make the hike.

 

Where's your secret spot (and why)? 

My 8’ long / 47” deep couch from Restoration Hardware. I should probably say something like The Wave Organ, but I’m pretty unapologetic about the fact that the sloth is my spirit animal. Also, they don’t show “The Real Housewives” at The Wave Organ. But they should, right?

 

What's your favorite under-the-radar SF restaurant (that others may not know about)?

This isn’t exactly under the radar, but I feel like everyone should order the Caesar salad and Chicken for two at Zuni. Oh, and I’m a big fan of ½ price wine nights at Perry’s. I like to go there after the gym to nullify all of my hard work.

 

What's your favorite SF institution (i.e., character, food cart, museum, landmark)?

The Exploratorium. I’ve been going there since I was six. I love that now they have “After Dark” with cocktails, but I’m pretty bummed they’re moving out of The Palace of Fine Arts.

 

What's next for you in your personal world?

I’m paying my therapist a lot of money to try to figure that exact thing out.

 

What's next for you in your work/creative world?

Not sure, but if anyone wants to pay me to write for them, I’m available! (Don’t worry. My therapist and I are totally working on my whole lack of tact and shame thing.)

 

What's next for San Francisco?

I really hope it’s a sixth Lombardi trophy.

 

Ugh. That last answer is really depressing.

 

 

On Pencil Sharpening. Seriously.

My friend David Jacobs is incredibly smart and even more opinionated. But the thing is: he’s one of those guys who’s has a strong viewpoint on everything, but also wants to seem nice. Which, when we’re talking about me, is totally my favorite.

For example, yesterday he was telling me – AGAIN – what a great writer I am. I know, I know. You’re not supposed to admit to stuff like that if you want people to take you seriously, but you know what? BECAUSE I want you to take me seriously, I’m going to admit to stuff like that. Because, um, hi. Writers don’t write so that we can sit at home all alone with our cats and cheap grocery store wine while perusing our journals from high school. You think I wrote those journals for ME? Please. Every single word I’ve every written was in the hopes that one day—some day—I’d have an audience who wanted to read them.

Duh.

Anyway. Back to me. (Oh right. Because we ever leave that topic.) Earlier today my smart, talented, super intelligent friend David Jacobs and I were talking about great I am. Okay FINE. We were actually talking about football, but in between that, he might have said something kind of exactly like:

“You could write about pencil sharpening and I'd read it.”

So, my awesome friend David Jacobs. This post is for you.

On Pencil Sharpening: An instructional how-to for people who don’t know how to sharpen a mother fucking pencil. In 34 easy-to-follow steps.

1. Before we can really tackle this subject, first we need to discover why it is you feel the need to write with a pencil. As far as I’m concerned, the only important difference between a pencil and a pen is that a pencil is impermanent. Erasable. Changeable. Uncertain. So maybe the bigger question here is: WHY A PENCIL?
2. I’m not a therapist, but I have one who’s outrageously expensive and would happily chitchat with you about everything except your need to use pencils. Bonus: he’ll also laugh at all of your jokes. Sometimes for, like, twenty seconds. Which you’ll later calculate cost you $1.34. But, I mean, hi: it’s kind of worth that much just to have someone laugh at your jokes, am I right?
3. Anyway, after you get validation that your childhood was pretty fucked up and that it basically makes sense why you are the way you are, hopefully you’ll have the confidence to buy a pack of goddamn pens (which pen specifically is too broad of a subject to tackle here, but when you’re ready, rest assured: I have an opinion) and end this pencil nonsense.
4. In the meantime, because, yes, the therapist’s job is to drag this out for weeks/months/years, let’s talk about your stupid pencil.
5. Am I going to set you back with your shrink if I ask why you’re not smart enough to buy a mechanical pencil?
6. Fine. I’ll pretend for the sake of this exercise that you’re taking a standardized test. Maybe the LSAT! Your parents always did hope you’d amount to more…
7. I guess I’m also now pretending that we live in the 1980s and they don’t offer these tests on magical machines called computers.
8. Honestly, if you’re going to make me go back in time, can we at least go back to a time when Huey Lewis & the News didn’t rule the airwaves?
9. PSYCH! I LOVE HUEY LEWIS & THE NEWS! (You remember “psych,” don’t you? It’s from the ‘80s. When you still had things like “hope” and “dreams.” And the confidence to write in pen. FINE, it was erasable, but still.)
10.  Anyway, no point in living in the past. Here we are. Just you and your pencil. Your unsharpened, good-for-nothing pencil.
11. Um, yeah. I just Googled “unsharpened pencil” and was assaulted with this result: “Life without God is an unsharpened pencil.” Mostly I blame myself for relying on Google for help when I’m feeling uninspired, but also? FUCK YOU. (You is YOU, not Google. Just in case that wasn’t clear.)
12.  So, just so I’m clear, we are now in total agreement that life is far better without unsharpened pencils and/or pencils in general, right?
13. I hate you.
14. Okay. Take the pencil. Now find your sharpener. OH RIGHT. This is basically impossible because pencil sharpeners aren’t an actual thing that exist! Kind of like “happy marriages” and “good parenting.”
15. You know what? Because I’m feeling so generous and because you’re basically the most demanding and insecure person I’ve ever met, I’m going to help you out. Go to my bathroom. Look on the third shelf all the way to the right. There. See that blue plastic thing? That’s my eyeliner sharpener. TAKE IT. It’s a gift. No seriously. Keep it. I can totally afford a new one.
16. Now stick your pencil in my sharpener.
17. Ew.
18. No seriously. Ew.
19. Wow. Really?
20. Still?
21. Awesome. I’ll just sit here while you….
22. Okay. Now, oh god. This is only going to get… Now turn your pencil in my—I mean—THE—sharpener.
23. Keep turning it. Like a good nine or ten solid turns.
24. Now pull your pencil out.
25. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
26. Assess the tip of your pencil. This is a personal preference. Personally, I like a pencil so sharp (not that I write with pencils because I’m not a savage, but IF I DID) that I may very easily shatter the tip with one forceful crossing of a “t.” You seem like you may like your pencils a little more, well…accessible. But hey—whatever. You can always come back and sharpen it again.
27. Speaking of. Oh my god. Did you let the pencil shavings spill all over the floor in step 23? Jesus Chris Mother of Mercy. You’re supposed to sharpen your pencil over a wastebasket. Or even the toilet. Were you raised in a barn? Oh, this is my fault because I didn’t tell you exactly how to do it? Well played. Well. Played.
28. Pick that shit up.
29. Hopefully by now your therapy is starting to resonate and you’re feeling like the things you have to write are worth inking for eternity. But just in case you have a relapse, let’s try the pencil out.
30. Here’s a single sheet of binder paper. That seems like something people who use pencils would be into.
31. Write whatever you want.
32. Oh, look at you. An “F,” a “U,” a “C”…
33. Oh! Look at that. Someone’s pencil broke already! Next time try writing with less “enthusiasm.”
34. Also, is that REALLY your handwriting? Yikes. Good luck with that.

So there you go David Jacobs. This is what happens when I can’t sleep at night and when I make a New Year’s resolution two weeks into the New Year that I’m going to post on my blog at least two times a week. What tough topic would you like me to tackle next?

Daisy promises to blog more in 2012 if you promise to be patient while she remembers how to do so.