Actress Sandra Bullock was still rubbing the head of her golden Oscar, awarded her by peers for her performance in "The Blind Side," when her husband, a rough guy with a roving eye named Jesse James, was "busted" as a lowdown, cheating son of a gun.

One of the other women in his life is embellished, head to toe, with tattoos. In the media flurry following her tabloid photos, conservative writer David Brooks posed a question with a Rock of Ages answer.

Brooks asked if you could have accolades from the world in which your talent brought fame and untold millions in salary, would you choose that measure of success instead of a loving, committed relationship enriching your length of days?

Brooks was blunt. To readers tempted to say "yes" to limos, houses in three time zones and "groupies" hanging around, preferring those "perks" to unerring devotion to and from another? "You're crazy," he wrote. Hard-nosed research holds up the truth of a better life, longer and healthier, when one values and commits to a loving relationship.

This is not new news, but for recognizable names, continuing to look for an ego fix in all the wrong places is downright epidemic. From politics to sports to the entertainment industry, we check for news of who is entering rehab for sexual addiction.

Lately, (before James made a last-minute dash to seek treatment for his infidelity itch), we've had our eyes on Tiger Woods, a man with more bed partners than nine irons.

Recently, Woods has been in the neighborhood, down the road in Augusta, competing at the Masters. His was not a stellar performance. Though he found a friendly crowd, he was reminded that time away from his craft had taken its toll.

Interviewed as he made a hasty exit, he admitted he was not a happy man. He'd come to win, he said, and he didn't. It would have been too much, even for Hollywood, to have had Woods' careless personal life fade into the sunset as he donned the Masters' green jacket.

Golf and the Masters needed a better role model than Tiger Woods to put talent and personal values in perspective, and there he was: Phil Mickelson, wearing a black baseball cap with a pink embroidered logo on its crown, a reminder breast cancer strikes women like his wife, Amy, and his mother, both diagnosed this past year.

Amy Mickelson was not strong enough to follow her husband's 18-hole walk throughout the week. She is recovering from treatment for breast cancer, but she and her children were there when Phil sank his last putt to win the tourney.

With the crowd cheering in the background, Mickelson held his wife like a piece of fine china, a tear sliding down his cheek.

Later, as he noticed that the winner's green jacket fit him like a glove, Mickelson's voice broke as he talked about the past 12 months.

"We've been through a lot this year," he said. "And it means a lot to share some joy together. She's (Amy's) an incredible wife, an incredible mother and she's been an inspiration to me, going through what she's been through."

So, there you are, the real stuff of life, poignantly measuring an emotion-packed win. Unlike Mickelson's, talent doesn't always visit those whose values are intact.

Too many stars in sports, business CEOs, the big guns of politics and sages of the theater, need to have their fragile egos stroked daily. I once heard a therapist sound off on excessive expectations.

"And exactly how many 'highs' are we asking of life," he shrugged?

In his own experience, he could count less than a handful - two graduations, his wedding, the birth of a child. Phil Mickelson's win was a 'high' for his family, but it was seeing his devotion to his wife, Amy, that changed me from a former golf viewing no-show to a respectful fan.

Judy Elliott is an award-winning columnist from Marietta.