Spare A Thought For Elin Woods

Left: Tiger Woods with wife Elin






The IndependentMail.com refers to the Tiger Woods scandal as "the biggest in the history of the world". Although clearly a massive overstatement the story has managed to captivate in most parts of the world.

But what's so special about an elite sportsman cheating on his wife? That old chestnut rolls around every other month with the Hall of Fame including the likes of cricketer Shane Warne, golfer Greg Norman and footballer David Beckham.

So what is it about the golfing world's best that has sent the media into commentary meltdown? Sami Lukis, radio station Triple M's morning news reader, remarked that if Woods' marriage to a gorgeous Swedish model couldn't last then there wasn't much hope for the rest of us. And I figured that her comment may have nailed the reason for our fascination.

Woods and wife Elin were nothing short of the fantasy ideal couple in that old-school Walt Disney fashion. The charming, dashing golfer, worth millions by 21, marries the picture-perfect model with the Barbie-doll looks. We figure it was meant to be and then spend the rest of their lives aspiring to have what they have: outrageous good looks, ridiculous piles of cash and sheer happiness.

So when one of the three pillars of a perfect couple falls apart, we feel it personally and it rocks our world a little too. We now need to examine our ideals. Have we in fact been looking for love and happiness in all the wrong places? Better take that Tiger Woods poster off the wall lest anyone think you're aspiring to have what he can offer. Revelation: perfect people are not always happy.

There will be those who would like to tar and feather Woods - and trust me if I were Elin or her mother I definitely would want to. Others will express relief that the man is human after all. Another group will use the Woods saga to make them feel better about their own lot in life - 'my husband's not perfect but at least he doesn't cheat on me' etc. Then there are those who will be welcoming him to the club. When it comes to cheating partners, Woods is no island.

When the scandal broke last week, a colleague remarked, "what was he thinking?" Clearly he wasn't, otherwise he wouldn't have shagged a bunch of women who seem overly oriented to drop him in it. Did someone say five minutes of fame and fortune? As 10 or more women jump out of seemingly nowhere to claim their part of this sordid tale, I have cause to wonder whatever happened to common decency and dignity?

The image of the world's favourite golfer has taken a beating - and fair enough, I certainly don't condone what he's done - but the women who are going public aren't doing themselves or Elin Woods any favours either. Time for them to all go away so the real victim, his wife, can work through her next steps.

Whether it's one woman or 20 (and it could reach that number this time next week the way this is going), Elin Woods will be suffering inconsolable hurt. Why keep kicking a woman when she's down?



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Freedom of Expression or Just Plain Restrictive?

I've often wondered what would happen if I blogged favorably about an issue that was contrary to the beliefs of the organisation I work for. Or if I was honest about an issue that the company would rather not discuss - certainly not in the public domain.

When I blogged about my fears for a Tony Abbott-led Liberal party last week, I received a phone call from my mother-in-law and a public chastising from Fairfax columnist Miranda Devine, but not a word from the CEO of Independent Digital Media where I'm employed as Publisher. Nor was I the recipient of even a peep from the Chair of the Netball Australia Board, of which I am a Director.

No doubt the situation would be reversed if I were to break rank and criticise an advertiser or an umpire. And that would be fair as it could impact the respective organisation commercially. That's not to say that I can't disagree behind closed doors. That's my role. I can and I have been known to. Its the public airing of disunity that is the issue here.

I've had cause to question a staff member's comments made via the very public Twitter in recent times. Workshopping a business concern in 140 characters or less with a band of anonymous followers wasn't exactly in the best interests of the company at the time, at any time.

It's undoubtedly why Telstra felt it necessary to table a social media policy in April this year. It outlines the rules of engagement for when Telstra staff have their Telstra hats on while blogging and tweeting. It makes perfect practical and commercial sense but is a reminder that in the 21st century our preferred form of communication is a double-edged sword.

Call it the 'always on' strategy. When you're working for Telstra there is an expectation that 24/7 you will abide by the social media rules. No such thing as 'in your own time'.

But what to make of an organisation's decision to ban a blog by a local journalist for criticising something as seemingly irrelevant as a Christmas gift? UK company, Liverpool Direct Limited recently banned the Liverpool Daily Post blog from staff access due to its criticism of the company's Christmas gift to staff.














"It seems that the latest attempt to tell staf (sic) working at the city council's controversial IT joint venture with BT how great their workplace is, has backfired," David Bartlett blogged.

"As you can see by the picture, I have been supplied with the gizmos that were handed out to staff in an attempt to boost morale at Liverpool Direct Limited (LDL)."

Bartlett writes in the follow-up blog post-ban: "If you are reading this blog you are clearly not working at Liverpool Direct Limited (LDL)".

As a journalist it's easy to beat the drum in favour of freedom of expression; the right to be independent. We do and we should continue to do so. But there's also the not-so-insignificant matter of freedom of information. No organisation should be able to restrict or control the news that reaches its staff. Surely we've evolved beyond that. But living in a world where social media means that anyone, anywhere can join the conversation is instead potentially limiting our freedom of expression, ironically - and it appears that information restrictions have dropped their bags at our liberated doorstep too.

According to a report by Kristine Lowe, president of The Norwegian Online News Association (NONA), on journalism.co.uk, NONA met last month to debate the need for rules for journalists' use of social media. News organisations across the globe are beginning to put rules in place mostly to protect the media organisation, but also at the request from journalists who are uncomfortable with the grey areas.

Jan Omdahl, internet and technology commentator for Norwegian tabloid Dagbladet, pointed out that journalists encounter a whole new set of challenges online. “Even if I as a social media user think we can just continue as we always have done, I do see that we can benefit from raising awareness about these challenges. For instance: should I reply when I get questions on Twitter about why Dagbladet has used five different angles on that sex podcast on NRK.no? Should I confer with my bosses before I reply? Is it appropriate that I share my opinions on one of our most heavily criticised front pages?”

John Einar Sandvand, a digital strategist with Aftenposten, Norway’s newspaper of record, suggested three rules for how journalists should use social media:
1) The media company should be genuinely positive to its staff being active in social media
2) Social media activities must be done in a way which maintains the professional integrity of journalists
3) Stay loyal to your employer.

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Breast Pest

I found another lump in my breast this week and I'm absolutely terrified of what the Breast Clinic will tell me this time.

It's the third big one and although I'm a believer in everything happening in threes (so call me superstitious), I worry that the lumps associated with the previous scares may have felt slightly different to this one.

Three years ago I was diagnosed with lumpy breasts. Essentially, my breasts are made up of ridiculously large cysts - so large that if the clinic drained them all you'd have trouble making me out in a line-up of young boys.

The draining process is particularly uncomfortable. With no anaesthetic to lessen my anxiety (my body tenses which increases the pain quotient considerably), I was forced to grin and bare it as a supersized needle pierced each of my breasts in turn and extracted a whole lot of fluid. My cysts were of the maxi variety so it took a couple of goes per cyst to effectively drain them. My doctor joked that if she removed them all there'd be no breast left so she chose not to drain them all, much to my husband's delight.

I've felt worse pain, I told myself as the needle was forced into my left breast. I've given birth twice and there's nothing more painful than that. The difference is that unless you're a Scientologist, you're allowed to scream and shout obscenities when attempting to force another person out of your body. It's expected of you, almost a surprise if you don't. Whereas in the quiet of a breast clinic, bellowing in agony and threatening to harm your partner unless the pain stops immediately isn't really the done thing.

But as with childbirth you're expected to forget about the pain so that you'll return for an annual checkup. The thing is, the memory of last year's draining is still so very fresh for me. I can see the needle coming toward me as I blog. How do I bring myself to go back for another round - even if that is what I'm praying will be the necessary outcome? The alternative is clearly far worse.

Why does everything to do with female health involve a fair amount of discomfort? Yes, we're clearly the tougher gender but we don't need to be reminded of it every time we do the right thing by our bodies.


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Why Tony Abbott Will Need More Than A Makeover

Today's Liberal leader Tony Abbott is against abortion, same-sex marriage, binge drinking and no-fault divorce. He does, however, believe that paedophiles who have done their time should be allowed to live wherever they want. And he thinks it's funny that he has been accused of flirting with the Deputy PM.

Not surprisingly, today's female twitterverse revolted. With the exception of Fairfax columnist Miranda Devine, who wears her Liberal Party supporter badge on her sleeve, her forehead and as a watermark behind her columns, most female tweeters were outraged that a man with Abbott's beliefs could possibly head up a major political party in Australia in 2009.

Abbott made a point of apologising for any behaviour of the past during his first press conference today. Deputy Julie Bishop stood nervously by his side and lacked any credibility when she took to the microphone to talk up her new leader as "a character". She couldn't say that Abbott has any respect for women, so she didn't.

In case you needed reminding of just what Abbott was apologising for, I've dug up a few examples that have helped to characterise him.

On AM on November 1, 2004, Abbott's views on abortion were exposed.

"TONY ABBOTT: Ah, well, I don't much like abortion full stop, but obviously abortions at a point in the pregnancy when the child to be might otherwise be viable, obviously raise even more serious ethical issues than those much earlier in pregnancy.

MATT BROWN: And is there any way that of those 75,000 abortions that your health system funds, that some of those could be discouraged?

TONY ABBOTT: Well as I said the Government policy hasn't changed, let's see where this debate develops."

In an article about binge drinking on August 13, 2009, the Herald Sun reported that "Mr Abbott said his 18-year-old daughter Frances called him a "lame, gay, churchie loser" the last time he offered her a worthy moral exhortation".

On September 17, The Australian reported: "it was left up to Liberal front bencher Tony Abbott to call for a more rational approach to the issue of where to house someone like Ferguson".

“Everyone has to live somewhere”, Abbot wrote. “The punishment should fit the crime but, once people have served their sentence, it’s generally been thought that they should be allowed to restart their lives with more-or-less a clean slate. Our culture has been profoundly influenced for the good by the injunctions not to judge “lest ye be judged”; and to “love your neighbour as you love yourself”. That is, it seems, until the neighbour happens to be a former pedophile.”

In The Age on July 13, 2009, there was a report on Tony Abbott's plea to strengthen the bedrock of marriage by reintroducing the option of a fault-based system for divorce.

"Although Deputy Opposition Leader Julie Bishop said yesterday she was willing to entertain the idea - or at least debate it in the Coalition party room - experts suggest it could provide carte blanche for detectives to once more peer into the nation's bedrooms.

"Yes, really, there was a time - before no-fault divorce was introduced via the Family Law Act in 1975 - when figures in trench coats would scour bins for hotel receipts to produce evidence of adultery, and a spouse's "marital fault".

"This, in turn, could determine the size of a property settlement in court and even who got to keep the kids."

Abbott will certainly require a major makeover if he is to win over the crucial female vote. Without the 51% of the population who have been allowed to vote now for some time, he doesn't have a chance. No aspiring leader in recent times has understood this better than Kevin Rudd.

Lost For Words

This week has been a particularly tough one for some of my extended media family. One of our own was hit by a tragedy so vast that it's been difficult to know what to say.

How do you offer comfort to a person who will never again be at peace?

What can you do to let him know that there is a group of people who are hurting on his behalf?

When is it OK for those other than the closest of family and friends to touch this person in some way?

It's during the very worst of times that the best of people comes out. And I saw it first-hand this week as my EMAP family united to workshop our way forward. We've had our differences in the past, but all of that was cast aside as we clung together in the wake of the horror. It's clear that no matter where we go or what we do there will always be a group of people on whom we can rely.

We can't change the circumstances of this week that have altered the course of our former colleague's life forever. But we will be there for him should he need us.

Fashion Inheritance

Left: This year's fashion must-have



Charlotte Smith inherited her American Quaker godmother's collection of fashion history. Little did she know at the time that she would become the proud, and a little ecstatic, owner of more than 3000 dresses, dating from 1790 - 1995. Amongst this extraordinary collection were Dior and Chanel originals.

Born in Hong Kong, Charlotte lived in London, Paris and New York, before falling in love with Australia. Those divine fashions now reside on our home soil too.

But rather than keep this treasure to herself, Charlotte has shared her fashion win via an illustrated book, Dreaming of Dior. Available in November. As a fashion enthusiast, I can't wait.

A Personal Journey or a Travel Book?

I was one of the last women on the planet to read Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.

A New York Times bestseller that has resonated with women in every part of the globe, the book really only piqued my interest when I overheard a group of women discussing it with passion and a sense of purpose.

"When I was in Bali a couple of weeks ago I visited the same medicine man that Elizabeth Gilbert went to," shared one of the women.

"Oh my god, that's what my girlfriends and I are planning to do at the end of the year," shrieked another.

I can see it now: somewhere on the beautiful Indonesian island of Bali sits a man espousing herbal remedies and his philosophies on life with a steady stream of mostly single women beating a path to his door. The book's publication in February 2006 made him an international phenomenon as women the world over attempt to recreate the personal journey that Gilbert took to find herself at the end of a painful and messy divorce.

Now I love a good memoir and this certainly ticks that box, but bestsellers are generally not my first choice when I rock up to Borders for a new read. However, millions of women can't be wrong so I decided to get in on the act and find out what all the fuss was about.

Gilbert strikes me as being a bit obsessive compulsive with her organisation of the book into 108 neat little parts like a japa mala, apparently India's answer to rosary beads. That, and the fact that the three countries she chose to visit all begin with the letter I. But I wasn't going to let that put me off.

As I started reading, it occurred to me that I may in fact be too happy with my life to be able to identify deeply with Gilbert's reason for embarking on this self-discovery. Is it because I'm not single that I don't share the urge to take myself off to Italy on a whim? Maybe it's because I'm not depressed that I have no desire to immerse myself in prayer at an Ashram in India? And I've been to Bali too many times to believe that's where I would find peace.

But this isn't my memoir, it's Elizabeth Gilbert's. And that's why it's fantastic that so many women have been able to identify with her downs in order to search out her means of lifting herself back up. But surely the point of the book is that every person's journey is personal.

Eat Pray Love isn't a travel book, it's a journal of one woman's path to enlightenment and personal enrichment. Be inspired by her, by all means, but for god's sake stop following in her footsteps and go find some of your own.

When the film version of the book is released sometime in 2011, I predict that travel to Italy, India and Indonesia will get a massive boost. And that poor medicine man will never again be at peace.