Or rather, bad advice columns.
Wait, no. That’s not right. I actually think the advice columns are good, but the problems are crazy.
And therefore awesome.
There’s a rubbernecking, Victorian freak show quality to them. A feeling of moral superiority, laced with a tiny soupçon of guilt.
It’s in the same spectrum of entertainment as reality tv. What you’re thinking most of the time is “thank god that’s not me!”
And when that person does something that isn’t that crazy, a teeny, tiny voice says “OMG. I really, really hope that’s not me.”
It’s the rather neat trick of mixing both empathy and judgement, in differing quantities, depending on the situation. Because while most can comfort themselves with “I would never Botox myself like that”, everyone can relate to the fear of getting older.
The psychological and emotional benefits of a few years is wonderful, but the slow physical slide is less so. Ideally, during that slide, you’ve managed to work on accruing those psychological and emotional so that it just doesn’t bother you that much.
But if you haven’t…well…there you go, botoxed and spray tanned into Madame Tussaud territory. Money can’t buy emotional well being.
In all things, both physical and emotional, let’s always opt for more human and humane. Or it will be like this.