I’m sympathizing with Fred Thompson today, who is evidently having gumshoes snoop around into his past in Nashville. Now I don’t know diddley about Fred’s personal life, other than he’s had three wives (who hasn’t?), but I suspect there’s got to be something nasty there. He’s a human being.
As someone who once upon a time wrote a few private dick novels, I should have some advice for Thompson, but I don’t. We just live in an era of no secrets. The idea of a private life is over. And running for President – or doing anything public for that matter – makes it worse.
But what’s fascinating in all this is that, for all our information, you rarely learn the real truth about anyone. When you finally or accidentally meet someone about whom you’ve been reading this endless stream of rumors, facts and what-not, you end up encountering something totally different. Again: a human being (with all his/her attendant pluses and minuses – many of them surprisingly lovable.)
It’s a strange Google word we live in.