Can someone explain why Tiger Woods has neighbors?

This isn't about the adultery. I'm not going to get on some soap box and rip Tiger Woods for two-timing (and three-timing, and four-timing) his wife. Let he or she who is without sin, etc., etc.

But will someone please explain to me why Tiger ... has neighbors?

One of the neighbors told Florida investigators he found Woods sleeping (and snoring, and barefoot) on the neighbor's lawn after Woods' Windermere, Fla., adventure in his Cadillac SUV on Nov. 27, when he clipped a fire hydrant and a tree.

OK, forget the motor vehicle madness. What's the deal when someone who has a half-billion dollars has neighbors living so close to him? (For a photo and diagram of how close Woods actually lives to others, see this page at Golf.com) Don't the obscenely-rich have an obligation to themselves to wall themselves off from the rest of the world? Just in case, you know, they have an insane night in the household and don't want it spilling out into the neighbors' lawn and then into the tabloids and TMZ.com.

Secondly, you know the people living in Tiger's gated community, 0r whatever it is, are obscenely rich as well. Why are they living next to Tiger Woods, of all people? Wouldn't that be a risk to their privacy? You know there's always the chance of some goofball wanting to get up close and personal to the House of Tiger.

Give me a half-billion bucks, and I promise you I'll have to drive for miles to find someone else's lawn to use as a place for a nap.

Now, another thing. First, let's make this clear. Adultery isn't funny, marital troubles aren't funny, driving a motor vehicle under anything but good emotional and physical conditions isn't funny, and violence most certainly isn't funny.

But since almost no one is believing Mrs. Woods used a golf club to "rescue" Mr. Woods from his vehicle, and supporsedly there does appear to have been a golf club involved in that evening's "activities," isn't that kind of . . . interesting?

Mrs. Woods could have resorted to any number of objects to express her anger, including the tried-and-true frying pan. But a golf club? With her husband being the world's foremost golfer? That is the stuff of fiction, folks. It's borderline "Tin Cup" or "Caddyshack."