29 November 2009

The price of fame

If I had a nice house in Florida, an attractive trophy wife and a Cadillac sports utility vehicle, I doubt if anyone (with the possible exception of the police) would care if I took the car out at 2.30 am one morning and hit a fire hydrant then a tree.

But I'm no Tiger. So no-one would think to ask me where I thought I was going at that time in the morning, why I was driving so slowly that the airbags did not inflate and whether, in rescuing me by destroying one of the car windows with a golf club, my imaginary good lady used an iron or a driver.

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