The Feast Of The Golden Voice

Ah, yes, another thought-provoking article about Ted Williams, aka the Golden Voice, aka Dr. Feelgood, aka the Macaroni Monster, in which we are all reminded that Ted Williams’ problems aren’t over yet, because instant success can ironically become an instant curse.  Probably we’d all better take a break from patting ourselves on the back for our open-minded compassion and say a nice prayer to our deities for him, because his problems have only just begun.

I mean, sure, you might be thinking well, gee Tom, seems like in the worst case scenario, he blows through all the money he makes, and then he’s homeless again.  Not cool, sure, but not even a net loss.  Like going to Vegas, tearing up the craps tables on the first night, then throwing your winnings around all weekend on strippers and steak, and then breaking even.

A real waste, but that’s not how the strippers see it, still back in Vegas counting their cash.

In this case, the strippers are journalists and promoters.  If I were talking to you in person right now, I’d put air quotes around those two words, but real quotes just don’t quite convey my disdain, you know?  Really, I’d prefer actual strippers, and something tells me that deep down in his heart, Ted Williams would, too.

I can’t imagine Ted Williams will read this, but to be clear, if he does, I’m all for you buddy.  But I can’t help but barf in my mouth a little bit every time I see a news anchor masturbating on the chair next to you, going “Oh, yeah, I’m so compassionate and my values are accurately reflected in this Triumph Of The Human Spirit Story.  I’m like Oprah Winfrey, hell yes I am.”

I mean, Ted, buddy, do these people even know you’re in the room?  How do you keep from going old school ballistic on the sets of those things?

I know that my good friend and fellow blogger Go-Go Rach is probably happy to hear that Alcoholics Anonymous is right on the case.  In fact, Williams’ AA sponsor Alfred Battle has become his right hand man, personally overseeing the Golden Voice’s transition from living in a tent to living the American Dream, all because Battle is a compassionate, caring, humanitarian juggernaut, and did you know that every time he farts an angel gets her wings?

Just ask him – he says he’s known Ted Williams for years and loves him.  What he doesn’t do is finish the thought with the sentence “I just didn’t know he was so money, baby!”

No, he doesn’t say that because he’s just being a Helper Bear, who doesn’t want a thing in return except to see Williams happy, and to make children around the world smile.

Well, also because Battle happens to be a promoter.  He’s in fact the the founder and CEO of Battle Plan Promotions, a nonprofit entertainment company dedicated to developing “undiscovered talent.”

Non-profit.  Sure, okay.  That’s normal, and I believe you, Alfred.

Seriously.  I’m smiling because I’m happy. 

What, man?  I didn’t say a word, you modern day messiah, you.  Sheesh, calm down – did I hit a sore spot or what?

Anyway, I would say that Ted Williams probably does have some worrying to do, and not really because instant success is in and of itself so dangerous, but more because instant success does not change you into someone else, but instead renders you the same guy with significantly fewer limitations.

I’m not here to judge Williams and I sure do wish him well, but it seems to me, homelessness in America is generally caused by mental problems and/or a severe deficiency in decision-making skills, and neither of those things sound like they’d mix well with more money and fewer limitations. 

This guy ought to take the following piece of unsolicited advice, because he certainly does need someone watching his ass.  Didn’t I just see you hugging your mom the other day, Ted? 

Here’s a tip – walk away from the non-profit AA concert promoter, and walk toward your mom with that giant pile of money, and you hand it to her.  All of it.  I can tell you from here – she is your best chance of not getting screwed.

And getting screwed isn’t the only problem ahead for Williams.  I’ve heard that he has a lot of kids – seven of them – so one way that his instant success could land him back on the street is if the Child Support Enforcement Agency somehow – I mean, I don’t know how – hears that he just got a sweet deal singing about Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, and then they go ahead and calculate back child support, and then, yoink!

Don’t worry.  They won’t take it all.  Because they have to save some for the IRS.  He’ll have to pay taxes on it, before paying the back child support.  By then, of course, there is an excellent chance that the media will have forgotten all about Ted Williams.

And don’t expect the homeless community to welcome him back with open arms.  Here’s a guy who just raised the bar several meters, for all of his peers.

Sure, Homeless Guy, I’d love to help you out, but can you sing or breakdance or juggle cats or what?  I mean, I’m trying to help you here, but first you got to help me.  By entertaining me in the manner of a court jester, in front of my magic Universe phone.

You’re telling me, I’m the only one who’s getting ill from this?  By this notion of homeless people singing and dancing for sandwiches?

It might surprise you to learn that many homeless people do not have such a hidden talent, so it’s therefore tricky for them to convince our society that they are worthy of compassion and/or a helping hand.

Being sick of this story is most certainly not about being sick of Ted Williams or wishing him ill.  It’s about being appalled by what it takes for us to reach out and help someone, being enraged by self-serving media whores dressing up their money-grubbing antics in philanthropic robes, and saddened by how easy it is for us all to ignore millions of hungry people, just because they failed to sing us a song.

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Earlier:  Back To You, Psychotic Meth Lab Preacher Guy

And:  The Sissification of Billy The Kid