Earlier this afternoon I was cruising through the local Barnes & Noble with the son when I paused to check out the magazine section.
Now, anyone who has been around and loves to read knows these things aren’t what they once were. Like all of print, magazines are sinking on the quick, and where a decade ago there were, oh, 1,000 different issues to peruse, now there are perhaps 250.
I suppose that’s why, after skimming through sports and political options, I found myself skimming through the new Cosmopolitan mag, which featured a woman named Jenna Dewan on the cover. Because I’m a sucker for celebrity profiles, I opened to page whatever, where a scribe named Whitney Friedlander brought forth her piece.
I read the lede, then Tweeted this …
And, well, I’m an asshole.
A total, complete asshole.
Why the snark? Why the rudeness? And who the hell am I? I’m sure, had Whitney profiled me (not that she ever might), Jenna Dewan would wonder, “Who the fuck is Jeff Pearlman?”
I actually think there’s this thing inside many of us … an inclination toward the negative, that results in stupid, petty, mean Tweets like the one I offered for no good reason.
I aspire not to be that guy.
