As both the musical “Chicago” and the current Oscar Pistorius trial prove, a great trial makes for the most riveting theater. The Pistorius trial has everything: a beautiful blonde victim, a crusading female judge, a rabid Prosecuting Attorney nicknamed The Pitbull, an especially bloody and vivid crime, and of course, a charismatic defendant. Oscar Pistorius is handsome and disabled, impressively heroic and excessively arrogant, and unlike many other, more wary defendants, he’s been willing to take the stand, where he wept, collapsed and yet found the strength to continue. Because his trial is taking place in South Africa, he’s also required to address the judge as “M’lady.”
A friend and I compared the Pistorius trial to that of the Menendez brothers, where two cute young guys, in 1989, were were found guilty of murdering their parents, for the money. I remember when the brothers testified, concocting a tale of parental abuse; they were like especially bad actors on a soap opera or in a silent movie, using stilted hand gestures to express despair. Even though both brothers are serving life sentences, they’ve both gotten married while in prison. The brothers have been denied conjugal visits, but Lyle married a former model, who then divorced him for cheating on her, because he wrote letters to another woman.
Erik married a woman named Tammi in the prison waiting room, where their wedding cake was a Twinkie. Tammi told the press that “It was a wonderful ceremony until I had to leave.” She’s said that her love for Erik is “something I’ve dreamed about for a long time.”
Pistorius already has many ardent female fans, as does the Boston Marathon bomber. Why would a woman want to be married to a guy on Death Row? Here’s why:
She’d always know where he was at night.
He’d have lots of time to write her love letters.
She wouldn’t have to get all dressed up for their dates.
She wouldn’t have to share the remote, the covers or the popcorn.
A handsome jailhouse husband is in many ways, an ideal fantasy object. It’s like marrying a romance novel, with just a hint of the safest sort of danger. But I wonder: when you marry a guy serving a life sentence, do you expect gifts?
