"Lucky starts with L."
My 4-year-old son, who is currently very proud of the fact he can spell a few words, made that declaration the other day. There are some terrific words that begin with the 12th letter of the alphabet, like luscious, luminous, and love. But there are also far too many L-words that are less lovely. Some are just plain lousy. There have been several people and places that have been in the news recently with names that begin with L. Unfortunately most of the individuals involved in those situations have been far more loathsome than laudable.
Louisiana is a unique place. In addition to being the lone state with a name starting with L, it's also probably the only one in which a sitting United States senator who calls himself socially conservative and a champion of family values is considered an overwhelming favorite to be re-elected this November despite having been implicated in a prostitution scandal. More relevant though, it's currently the only state with an oil slick off its shore that at last look covered 2500 square miles and was still growing. And while oil continues to spurt unabated from the ocean floor, local (and national) leadership has been sorely lacking. However, there's no shortage of finger-pointing. The government is blaming the oil industry, Big Oil is blaming the government, and Republicans and Democrats are loftily blaming each other. It's lamentable, not to mention life-and-death for the area's fragile ecosystem.
Far less important to America's Big Picture: the recent doings of 24-year-old entertainer Lindsay Lohan, who is now far better known for her less-than-ladylike actions, latent love of liquor (and other harmful substances), and leanings toward lawlessness. Her loutish behavior lacks laudability, and her latest lack of judgment has earned her 90-days in lockup. Lots of loudmouthed lowlifes in the media are getting lame laughs making light of Ms. Lohan, but it would be more appropriate if they (and we) would simply leave her alone. Ignoring her would probably give her a better chance of getting her life back together than she'll get by permanently remaining in the infotainment spotlight. But in the celebrity-obsessed morass that passes for pop culture in the United States today high-profile lawbreaking, headline-grabbing lurid actions, and ostentatious luxury are all viewed with unhealthy fascination by voyeuristic Americans more interested in living vicariously through the decadent lifestyles of others than pursuing extraordinary lives of their own, and in the process minding their own business.
If there's anything less deserving of attention than Ms. Lohan's continuing battle with her real and imagined demons, it's the recent circus surrounding basketball superstar LeBron James. Thanks to toiling seven years at a world-class level for the Cleveland Cavaliers (who have never won an NBA title), James earned the right to play for whom he pleased next season, and following weeks of breathless national speculation he announced his decision in a dreadfully vapid hour-long special on ESPN last Thursday. The 25-year-old with a tattoo reading "The Chosen One" on his back will perform next season in Miami for the Heat, the team which recently secured the services of his good friends (and fellow multi-millionaires) Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh. Shortly after the announcement live TV cameras showed angry, jilted Clevelanders who formerly loved LeBron (but now see him as a lying louse) burning replica jerseys bearing his name and uniform number, an act nearly as foolish as buying and wearing such apparel in the first place. About the only certain result of James's landing in Miami is that the Heat are now the New York Yankees of basketball. There is no longer even a remote possibility of deriving any fun from playing and/or rooting for them, since anything less than a 20-point victory on any night they play will be seen as underachieving.
Few Americans are interested in hearing about Louisiana's ongoing difficulties, even as its environmental and fiscal landscapes are being altered forever due to a lethal but thoroughly avoidable combination of human error, lack of oversight, and unfettered greed. But when it comes to the lives of celebrities with whom we have little or nothing in common, Americans can't get enough. It's pathetically sad that millions of us obsess over the lives of entitled narcissists like Lindsay, LeBron, and similar individuals we don't know, won't ever know, and who in all likelihood wouldn't have much to say to us if we did know them.
The lowering of our collective national IQ is far from complete. Were she around to comment on last week Eliza Doolittle, the fictional Cockney flower girl of George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion, would undoubtedly say that the country is going to L in an 'andbasket.
Lucifer is no doubt leering lewdly, not to mention laughing lasciviously.
Andy YoungReturn to main page
Font size: