Beau Tyler is known to many New Zealanders for his inspiring Memphis Meltdown ads. The mock self help guru on the small screen recently returned as a mock self help guru on the stage, and I was privileged (and paid the money) to witness A Night with Beau Tyler.
I was a bit reticent, to be honest, as I hate going into something expecting to laugh. Too much pressure. And, for huge tracts of the show, my discomfort was merited. A whole “stress relief” section relied on excessive toilet humour, though audience participation ensured everyone was embarrassed by the concept (surely the point); and a “reality hits” section at the end was a very formulaic episode that really undermined the whole idea of a fun evening – and I thought I saw tumbleweed blowing across the stage for the audience to admire in the background.
Otherwise, the show hit the mark with a cynic’s view of these self improvement programmes. Beau Tyler’s recipe for success: the price of one’s own edification is the expense of someone else. Self aggrandisement through the belittling of others. Don’t be disappointed – aim low. Amusing notions, all very extreme.
But are they really? Just the other day, I had someone come up to me and berate me for some unintended slight perpetrated at the gym a few days ago. Struggling through waves of weariness (as it was very early in the morning), I was able to stand back and look at this person through detached eyes. “What are you doing?” I internally intoned, looking at the woman as she lectured me over her perception of proper etiquette. I had in no way injured her, in no way embarrassed her, and in no way meant any harm, and the action that so offended her took all of two seconds from start to finish. She must have harboured this burning resentment all the previous day and night and, provided with the opportunity, decided that my gymanners were so abhorrent that I could not be told in a polite, off-handed way that I had offended her, but rather needed to be lectured that I was breaking all sorts of well-known and widely accepted codes of conduct. And then, she just left, ostensibly so I could stew on her words.
Stew I have, but more on her thought processes than anything else. I tend to be fairly laid back in most things. Other gym goers have made more obviously “offensive” actions than my own (from my perspective of course), but I tend to deal with things like this in a more light-hearted way, pointing out indiscretions as they occur rather than waiting until I have composed a Cicerean oration to preach down.
In the end, it seemed to me that it all tied back to Beau. I can only assume such a venting was more for her benefit than mine. I am sure she feels a whole lot better about herself now that she has righted one of the great wrongs in the world.
Looking on a global scale, that seems to be how the world works. Moosetastic has described the open biases in the Sunday Star Times, pointing out how the columnists sometimes poke fun or demean the people involved rather than really trying to tackle the issues raised. Inflating oneself with moral superiority has to come at the expense of others. Looking at the snippets of speeches from current US President Bush, no matter the evidence brought out against his decisions or the inconsistencies in his own actions, Mr Bush’s confidence never wavers mainly because he denigrates those who question him, and the smug smile that crosses his face shows that he believes such dismissals and question-dodging show he is the smarter man.
Beau Tyler presents the extreme, and we laugh at his audacity. But it is not audacious really. It is actually very common, hidden in the politeness of the written word, or from the authority provided by the television pulpit or by the shield of public office. We can get overly “PC” about these things, but there is something to be said about respecting the intelligence of others, or just plain respecting them. Not the best way to boost a flagging ego, but definitely one that would make the world a far nicer place to play in.
Verdict: A Night with Beau Tyler was an hour of power, though we suffered frequent blackouts throughout. 4 volts out of 10.
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