Oscar Pistorius: Hero Worship

My obsessions are numerous and bizarre. Like seeing a porn star wear Pumas; then buying Pumas every six months for three years. Or seeing the marks on older cars windshields where the wiper blades have worn a pattern, so hand washing my windshield every day for four years. Or, recently really liking guys in their twenties due to my fear and loathing of growing old. Wait, that’s neurosis and narcissism.  Completely different. 

Lately, while the world is obsessed with the fait of Malaysian Airlines Flight 370 and the amazing media coverage and strange conspiracy theories, my obsession gene is turned elsewhere. My dear Oscar. South African sprint runner, Oscar Pistorius. Now, I don’t like the word “obsession” in this case, it seems dirty somehow. It’s more like a deep unending love that is only one-way and will never be responded to or returned. 

While watching the track and field portion of the 2012 Olympics, I watched with the world as Oscar Pistorius, a South African sprint runner struggled to participate in the men’s 400 metres sprint.  Oscar Pistorius competed in the London Summer Olympics as the first double leg amputee. 

After that race I became obsessed with this amazing man’s struggle to overcome obstacles.  When I got lazy about running, or really any perceived obstacle I used Oscar for motivation. Tired and not wanting to drive to the gym, I would think of Oscar the amazing athlete.

My hero even wished my a happy Birthday via Twitter:

My hero got me through some tough times. One day I heard my heroes name on television.  “Oscar Pistorius accused of premeditated murder of girlfriend by South Africa prosecutors.”

The continuing court case stuns me with every news cast. The court is opening to the world his complicated life. Texts from the slain Reeva Steenkamp show the anger and control issues that Oscar portrayed. One of a jealous and cruel boyfriend. Other news casts focus on Oscar vomiting in the courtroom and physical distress in the retelling of his beloved Reeva’s injuries. Spending emotional days on stand crying repeatedly, apologizing to Steenkamp’s family. Every day in court he is emotionally and physically exhausted. Even with my skewed lust filled eyes, the defense of why he shot through a bathroom door, killing Reeva, simply falls down. 

I obsessively watch any report I can find. 

There is a philosophy that your heroes will disappoint you.  That is true. In this world, if you obsess too much, you just might make immortals out of mortals. 

Oscar Pistorius

Oscar Pistorius Stumbles and Falls

In what seems a lifetime ago, I lived in a stone house along the Appian Way. During this brief time in my life I dated a Flying Dutchman.  Named this because he was Dutch and an airline pilot. Although I always suspected he was a flight attendant. As after sex he would always attempt to give we warm towels.

One time, after a nice warm towel, and supplying me with a soda, although never giving me the whole can, he asked me who my heroes were. I was dumbfounded. I quietly realized that I didn’t have heroes to follow and use as guideposts though my life.  From that night onward in the stone house along the Appian Way, I would always have some sort of hero or role model in my life to strive to be as good as and emulate.

Upon becoming addicted to watching the track and field portion of the 2012 Summer Olympics, I watched a small story about a South African sprint runner struggling to even participate in the men’s 400 metres sprint. Upon Oscar Pistorius competing in the London Summer Olympics as the first double leg amputee, and the controversy died down about his cutting-edge prostheses giving him an unfair advantage over able-bodied runners, I became obsessed with this amazing man’s struggle to overcome obstacles.  When I got lazy about going for runs, I used Oscar for motivation. Tired and not wanting to drive to the gym, I would think of Oscar the amazing athlete.

On my birthday, I even turned into a crazy fan girl and asked via Twitter for a birthday wish from Pistorius:

So my other role models are a fictitious British 

TV character and a You Tube Vlogger. What’s to ya?

 Quickly Pistorius replied via Twitter:

When he replied, I squeed. My running deity, whom I worshiped daily; and motivated me to be a better athlete, wished me a great birthday…. This buzzed lasted me until yesterday morning. When changing at the gym to go for a run I hear my heroes name on the locker room’s TV. “Oscar Pistorius accused of premeditated murder of girlfriend by South Africa prosecutors.”

I stood in my UA undies in stunned silence watching a video of Pistorius holding his head in his hands weeping openly in a courtroom as prosecutors said they would purse a charge of murder against the paralympic superstar.

Thinking back to being asked about heroes by the Flying Dutchman, in that house, on a street in Dallas, TX ironically named after the most important Roman roads of the ancient republic, I realize now how strategically important that turn in my own Appian Way was. To accomplish anything in life you need role models. Sometimes… dare I say, most of the time, your deity will fall.