Why is it that the more visible someone becomes, they less attractractive they so often seem.
I recall being a fan / admirer of Gary Hart some time before his run for the President. In and after 1984 -- the year of his surprising challenge of Walter Mondale for the Democratic nomination, he became somehow less and less appealing -- he seemed less edgy, less willing to buck the establishment (at least as I saw it), and less new. Was it me or was it the level to which he had been propelled to?
Why is Angelina Jolie so much less interesting since she got an Oscar and then of course a source of such fascination for the public as her relationship with Brad Pitt blossomed (or more likely was revealed since it probably blossomed before the newpapers got wind of it).
I was such a Paul Tsongas fan before he ran and then tired of the deficit talk (which I thought so important) and the bear he carried around (I can't remember what for). Afterwards I was very mixed.
Is it possible that part of it is the feeling that if I have to share him with so many others than he's no longer as appealing. Do people's appreciation of something they felt "they discovered" and felt some ownership of diminish when so many people discover the same things?
For example, did the early Starbucks lovers sour a bit or at least appreciate considerably less their coffee sipping locale when it became so widespread? Is smaller / a niche element have a virtue in an of itself?
No comments:
Post a Comment