TMI
Recently I was at a party when the topic of conversation turned to people’s sleeping habits, specifically the group was interested in people’s choice of sleeping garments. The answers were what you’d typically expect. The women favored t-shirts and flannel pajamas while most of the men slept in their underwear. One of the men differed however and admitted to sleeping in the nude. After this revelation, amidst the laughter, someone started screaming “TMI, TMI!” For those of you who have been somewhat sheltered these past few years, “TMI” is short for “Too Much Information.” Apparently knowing that someone sleeps naked is too much for some people. But I believe those people are a minority. The truth is that “TMI” is a fairy tale and there is in fact no such thing as “Too Much” information. After all, we’re presently assaulted on a daily basis with all sorts of the most intimate details of people’s lives. This is especially true of celebrities of whom we can never seem to get enough. Whether it’s Lindsay, Brittany, or Brad and Angelina, we want details and the juicier they are the better.
Years ago when Monica had her fling with Bill, the media had a field day and people ate it up. Certainly the details involving practices with cigars or the oft mentioned stained blue dress would seem to qualify as TMI yet the public never seemed to tire of it. More recently, we’ve watched riveted as Brittany Spears life unraveled before our very eyes; we’ve kept track of who Jennifer Aniston is dating and still managed to follow Paris Hilton’s exploits ad nauseum. The proliferation of so called reality shows is further evidence of our insatiable need to know as much as we can about the rich and the famous.
But it doesn’t stop there. Celebrities are certainly used to having their dirty laundry aired on a regular basis but now the average person’s laundry has become increasingly fit for public consumption as well. In my small Connecticut town for instance, where everyone knows everyone and no one is famous, not only do the rumors flow freely, they often come from the unlikeliest of sources. While I expect to hear news at parties and the like, I’m no longer surprised to also come by a tidbit or two in the supermarket, the gas station, or the hardware store. Along with a gallon of milk I can easily pick up a dose of “He said this” and “she did that” and “I heard from you know who that they both denied everything.” In fact, small towns are perfect examples of how “TMI” is really just a myth. Every aspect of everyone’s lives no matter how trivial spreads through town like wild fire. And in the same way we can’t get enough of celebrity gossip, we eagerly lap up the small town details like a cat with a bowl of milk.
Naturally, the internet has contributed mightily to the demise of the “TMI” concept. With information instantly and readily available to everyone and anyone, there are few secrets left anymore and that seems to be okay with us. Furthermore, with the advent of web sites such as YouTube, MySpace, and Facebook, the public’s need for details can now be constantly satisfied and at a moment’s notice. While you might not think it’s important to let the world know you’ve gone out to rake leaves, believe it when I tell you that somewhere, someone wants to know about it. Of course if you’re raking in the buff that’s even better.
Like it or not, we live in a culture where privacy is a thing of the past and we not only value gossip but crave it. So the next time you hear someone say “TMI” don’t believe for one second that they mean it. They might be saying “TMI” but they’re really thinking “TMM” or “Tell Me More.” So it is in the spirit of “TMM” that I hereby admit to the following: I, sleep in the nude.
