The first few seconds of the Netflix show Tiger King was the first time I had ever heard the name Joe Exotic — which baffled me. A character of such caliber, for lack of a better word, surely couldn’t have gone completely under my radar for so long right here in my own country of origin.
But as I watched — and watch, I did, all the way to the end — I became more and more mystified by the cast of characters. The world of exotic animal ownership is something I have had absolutely zero experience with.
I went to college with a guy who had an albino python. Her name was Baby, and her eyes were a deep red. She is, by far, the most exotic thing I’ve seen kept as a pet in someone’s house.
But the folks in Tiger King, acting in some way like they belong in a world where lions and tigers walk around with them as pets, were so far removed from the people I’ve known in my life that it was as if I were watching something from a different planet, not simply a different state.
I can’t say I connected with many of the people in the show. Erik, a long-haired man of few words, masked behind sunglasses — him, I felt like I understood. He spoke little of the people involved in scandal after scandal and chose to fixate on the animals. He was there for the animals. He was concerned that they were being fed and was appalled when they weren’t being taken care of. Erik shrugged off secondary drama, and I found commonality there when nowhere else.
The people who told the cameras, time and again, that they loved these animals in one scene, then fed them rejected Walmart meat in the next, or that they only wanted to protect the animals in one scene and spent thousands of dollars in bullshit litigations with other zoo owners in the next, became impossible to sympathize with.
By the end, watching the desperate shambles of a number of lives, I couldn’t feel anything resembling sympathy. Just morbid curiosity. This was a tiger-striped train wreck I couldn’t pull my eyes from.
I watched, with the rest of America, with rapt interest.
So now I would have something to say to the people around the virtual water cooler come Monday morning. (Or is it Thursday afternoon? All the days blur together.)
And that, really, was the connection I was seeking all along. ν
Tiger King is available to stream on Netflix.
A Note From the Publisher

Dear Readers,
The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.
That’s because of you!
Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.
Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.
We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.
And, of course, we’ve continued to bring you the stories and features many of you depend on: investigations and local government reporting, arts and culture coverage, sudoku and crossword puzzles, Savage Love, and our extensive community events calendar. We feature award-winning stories by University of Oregon student reporters getting real world journalism experience. All free. In print and online.
None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.
As we head into a new year, please consider supporting Eugene Weekly if you’re able. Every dollar helps keep us digging, questioning, celebrating — and yes, occasionally annoying exactly the right people. We consider that a public service.
Thank you for standing with us!

Publisher
Eugene Weekly
P.S. If you’d like to talk about supporting EW, I’d love to hear from you!
jody@eugeneweekly.com
(541) 484-0519
