from www.pocorecord.com – Lenore Skenazy writes: The revelations that Tiger Woods has been enjoying a pu-pu platter of pulchritude surprised only those of us (me) who assumed he’s the way he is in those posters you see of him all over the airport. He’s always alone! He’s there in a sand trap the size of the Sahara or at the edge of some Godforsaken cliff, and it’s just him, his golf club and a multinational consulting firm — or so we’re led to believe. I always wondered who was drawn to these ads; they’re so boring. Now I see:

Porn stars.

Oh, those ladies love their multinational consulting firm spokesmen, and those spokesmen (and maybe most men) love them right back. It reminds me of the way we all are supposed to love diamonds because they’re the “ultimate” gem, even though rubies and emeralds are often prettier. “Diamond” equals “best.” If there’s a choice between a stunning bikini model wife and a peroxide porn star, in Tiger’s life at least, the porn star wins.

Porn stars have been winning all over our culture lately. I’m so old that I remember when working in that particular industry was not a real point of pride. Nowadays, the vixens write best-sellers — and not just about sex. They’re writing baby books! Cookbooks! Mark my words: Someday soon, a porn star is going to pen the history of NATO. And that’s the one book on NATO, ever, that’ll sell.

Pornography has become a normal part of everyday life. Case in point: Some Canadian scientists recently wanted to study the effect of porn on young men, and they started out their experiment by looking for two groups, 20-somethings who watched porn regularly and a control group of those who didn’t — except they couldn’t find a control group! Professor Simon Lajeunesse of the University of Montreal reported that he had to scrap the entire project when his team couldn’t find ANY young men who didn’t watch porn — usually an average of two hours a week, on the Internet, of course. Porn has become just part of growing up, like Popsicles and pogo sticks. Actually, it leaves pogo sticks in the dust.

What’s disappointing to me about Tiger is not just that he cheated on his wife. It’s that of his roughly 3,487 extramarital flings (and counting), several were with porn stars.

How uncreative do you have to be to think that porn stars are the trophy? Porn stars are the opposite; they’re folks PAID to pretend they’re loving every second of sex — just like hookers. To think of them as more sensual than anyone else is like thinking that the guy who plays Spider-Man can really spin a giant weight-bearing web. Guess what, guys? It’s a MOVIE. Need a sports metaphor? Think WRESTLING.

Where is the pride in making it with someone who has the equivalent of a master’s degree in “baby, you’re the best”-ing? Are men that different from women that they don’t care whether they’re making love to a Speak & Spell — just point to what you want to hear and pull the string? I’m not saying that porn stars aren’t humans with the whole gamut of emotions; I’m saying that men who idolize them are idolizing not sex, but the sex industry.

One of the women supposedly bedded by Tiger supposedly got some money from him, too, according to the New York Post. And supposedly, she used the money to get liposuction.

Lots of unreality going on there — unreal relationships, unreal fidelity, unreal body parts — all tangled up together. Literally. It makes Tiger look about as deep as a divot.

No wonder he’s alone in all those airport ads.

Lenore Skenazy is the author of “Who’s the Blonde That Married What’s-His-Name? The Ultimate Tip-of-the-Tongue Test of Everything You Know You Know — But Can’t Remember Right Now” and “Free-Range Kids: Giving Our Children the Freedom We Had Without Going Nuts with Worry.”