The Blues

The Madness of Max

On July 15, 2010, in Barrow Pushing, Life, by Rosie

Sometimes, I think we expect too much of people in the public eye.

Australians have the tendency to idolize those who can bowl balls, kick goals, win sporting medals, act in front of cameras, make mega-dollars and/or earn a living by being fabulously attractive.

Generally speaking. There are always folk that will look for the person beyond their sporting, acting, singing ability, sexy aesthetic appeal.

It often strikes me as strange that we don’t seem to place the thinkers, the intellectuals, the spiritualists, the philosophers on the same pedestal as our sporting and celluloid heroes. But that’s a topic for another post.

Rather than allude to Aussies behaving badly, speaking about issues beyond their capability or abusing their loved ones in a domestic situation, it’s more important to ask ourselves this — why do we ever think that these people have something significant to say? Just because they have a gift in a specific field (and they do. We must acknowledge that) shouldn’t make them a mouthpiece for our society. It doesn’t represent who we are or how we want to be perceived.

And we shouldn’t let it.

Most of us don’t.

On the odd occasion, I think we expect too much of people in the public eye. We believe them to be decent, solid citizens, intent on building a better planet, providing role-model ideals for the young, attempting to change the world by living as best they can. Sometimes, we forget they are human.

Being the greatest singer, actor, footballer, cricketer, politician, writer, expat-Aussie-Hollywood-superstar-has-been, landscape gardener, painter doesn’t automatically make you the greatest person. Even the most gifted can be tormented by the fallibility of being human. It’s a pity that they choose these times to actually speak. (And don’t the media love it?).

We are more than just our talents. So are they. We all need to remember this, and shut the hell up when necessary.