There are three things that commonly make even the most astute person go nutty publicly: drugs, alcohol, and TV cameras. It doesn't matter how cool and controlled you perceive or portray yourself to be, overindulgence of either one will likely produce overexposure of yourself. In either case, regrets wait for you in the morning -- if not immediately.
Go to any sporting event and you'll encounter countless people falling prey to their immediate desires to be on TV or the Jumbotron, only to wind up waving unnaturally excitably, kissing someone sloppily, dancing in a crazed, frenetic fashion that resembles the most explosive seizure, or any number of acts that humans weren't designed to do in front of 20,000 in attendance, much less 90,000,000 cable subscribers.
What is it about TV cameras that makes us humans flip our flippin' lids? What compels us to momentarily shed all dignity and act eight years old again?
TV cameras serve as a reminder that we not only demand attention from others, but that we demand attention from ourselves. We look for our reflection in windows, we adore mirrors, and we even try to momentarily catch an enchanted glimpse of ourselves on the security camera monitor in department stores. Sure, you could brush it off as mere curiosity, but what's to be curious about? It's we. We're looking at us. And unless you have amnesia, or Christ just rubbed dirt and saliva in your once blind eye, there's nothing new to see here -- it's the same ugly mug we have always had and self-affirmed in a different mirror 12 minutes ago. I think we have a pretty good idea what we look like, people.
There appears to be an inherent fascination with seeing -- or simply knowing others are seeing -- a projection of ourselves. We will literally go out of our way -- yes, push far heavier strangers -- to get caught on tape if even for a split second just to wag an index finger upward and ambiguously yet adamantly assert to all viewers that something somewhere is indisputably number one, or just to wave and exclaim another inane "Hi, Mom!" to a mike-less TV camera. (Has Mom ever happened to be tuning in at that moment? And if so, has she ever blushed with pride and affection at the muted sight of her half-painted, beer-guzzling son saying hello?)
All that said, while I don't understand the whole premise of screaming and flinging your arms around upon spotting yourself on "the big screen" at the aforementioned sporting event, I'm amazed -- honestly bewildered -- that more people don't flip the ol' middle finger, mouth profanities, or flash their goods at the TV camera. I mean, you'd think that at least one person would consider in that moment, "If I'm gonna be an idiot in this solitary televised opportunity, screw it, I'm going all out." Then, boom, free boobs.
Something to aim for, folks.
