First Joost, now Vuyo Mbuli? Not that having an affair with another woman is illegal, and not nearly as explosive as snorting cocaine off a hooker’s ass (I could be wrong about that last part) but I think the implications for Vuyo as a Morning Live presenter could be at least as serious. Are they going to fire him, too?
I want to laugh. Not at Vuyo, or even at Joost. One of my favourite songs of all time is Son of a Preacher Man, as sung by Dusty Springfield. And my favourite line is “…being good isn’t always easy, no matter how hard I try…” One of my favourite quotes is Mae West saying “when I am bad I am better”. Sometimes a girl just has to let her hair down, and do something that is out-of-the-ordinary and perhaps more than a little indulgent.
I made it through relatively wild twenties and thirties without accumulating any diseases or addictions. For this I am grateful. I have settled into (by comparison) sedate forties. And sometimes a desire to be delinquent manifests in early sushi dinner by myself at Willoughby’s with a two glasses of Graham Beck chardonnay and the newspaper or spending an entire Saturday on my couch watching ten episodes of The Closer back to back.
But I am a person without commitments to others, and not famous to boot, which means that any (by my own standards, very mild) impropriety is strictly my own concern. More than that, I have never denied accusations of being anti-establishment, so a little deviance on my part is not going to blow the roof off the SABC.
Sleaze can be irresistible, and it is not evil. What is thoughtless and harmful is lying. And pretending to be someone who you are not is lying. (Men often don’t understand this, in my experience. For this reason it is so easy for them to say “I never lied to you,” because in THEIR book, omission is not the same as lying (so that of course is a lie Right There), and they think that saying “I am on my way, I will be there in five” when they are standing in their mother’s kitchen forty-five minutes away, is somehow not untrue. But that is another story.)
I don’t mean to make light of the pain that Amor and Vuyo’s wife and Vuyo’s alleged girl’s guy are feeling – the humiliation, the betrayal, the embarrassment. The people who have been touched by these spectacles are miserable and deserve sympathy. When I started this piece it was an attempt to look at the whole, but it turned out impossible to do that without examining the sum of the parts. Which is a pity. Human tragedy comes in packages of flesh and blood, and we are not islands. So what we do very often affect other people, especially when there are children involved.
And that is why children should be taught from a very young age (between beatings) that as long as they do not lie and hurt people, they can do pretty much what they like, and to hell with the rest of the world: with what it thinks, with what it expects, with its double standards and Hollywood-morality lessons. Vuyo, it seems, lied to his wife and by implication, perhaps, his kids. That was wrong, but that is not where the focus of the scandal will be. For me, that is the real tragedy.