Fear Itself

Today is Hallowe'en, one of the few days of the year designated for enjoyment. Candy and outdoor gatherings for the kids, trick-or-treats under the windy dark skies, in the guise of one's favorite character, letting go of self for a while. It's heaven for kids and oldies too.

Hallowe'en rocks. I love the part when the doorbell rings and raggedy clutches of costumed kids shout, "Trick or TREAT!!" Giggling with them, it's so much fun to act afraid and say "Oooooooh! Scary monsters!!!" Watching them skipping away, sneaking peeks inside their bags to see what they got this time, I remember going out with my brother and the neighbors, getting so excited to be outdoors at night, listening to the rustling of leaves circling the trunks of the darkened trees.

Spooky feelings were so delightful we would laugh suddenly and madly, as if we had best enjoy the moment before it combusted spontaneously. The myth that someone might put razor blades in the candy made it even better--real danger existed and we'd better watch out! Scream to your heart's content! Today it's encouraged!

Today as adults we can still enjoy Hallowe'en, but this year's has taken on a rather sinister quality. God forbid that we pass this scenario on to the kids and grandkids. . . they do not deserve it. . . let them trick and treat freely, as they'll grow up soon enough.

"Be afraid! Be very afraid!"

The message has become a mantra, a remonstration, a quasi-national command performance. Be afraid of the Muslim--of all Muslims. Be terrified of the immigrant, especially those coming from south of the border. Woe unto thee all who espouse gays, are gay, or who approve of gays: your day of reckoning is at hand. Tremble at the spectacle of social programs, most of all! They may overtake our "freedoms!"

The United States has become such a place of propaganda FOR being afraid, perhaps we should change our national symbol from the Bald Eagle to the plucked chicken. Wimps we are charged to become; but wimps don't get much done. More's the point. Wimps follow the leader to the nearest exit, to the ambulance entrance, to the right-wing rally, and finally to the soup line.

Yesterday's "Rally to Restore Sanity" mounted by Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert made a difference for me--their message was : turn off the set. The static is in your head. Don't listen to the media all the time. Think. Think for yourselves. WE are AMERICANS. We can make the changes we wish, without going off the deep end.

I appreciated that. For violence in real, every day life is scary. People who are armed and at the ready, for the invasion of nonexistent perpetrators are all over the place--they go off half-cocked all the time. Turn on the news if you don't believe me. But there are truly other ways to choose to live. Harmony is just around the corner.

Answer the door. Children are waiting. Make them happy today--and take today's message into the tomorrows of all time. "There is nothing to fear but fear itself."--FDR

"That the creatures of worry and care fly above your head, this you cannot change. But that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent." -- Chinese proverb

Pause for a Commercial Break

Watching a Cheerios commercial yesterday, its concept slapped me silly: the dad uses his heart condition as an excuse to keep his son from eating said cereal.

"Your mother cries herself to sleep worrying about my heart." The dad slumps over the bowl. Son walks away from this pathetic heap of a father, seeking his own breakfast.

In another ad, a mother and father watch as their son drives down the country road, toward their farm house from college. . . the boy is clearly ecstatic to be home and we presume it's the first time he's had a break from the dorm.

"Quick! Hide the snack crackers!" cries Mom. Dad shoves the box into the cupboard so that son can't share their stash of precious snacks.

A tuxedoed father of the bride escapes from the flower garlands of the church, hiding his cheezie doodles under his jacket, eager to leave his daughter's wedding so he can grab a few clandestine bites.

We've become accustomed to seeing the kids squabbling over the cookies, spewing in loud volumes, "GET YOUR OWN BOX!"

"Leggo my Eggo!"

Get your hands off my food! WHAT a concept for a family. But maybe it sells cereal. Who knows?

What does it say about who we are? Are we sharing, giving, caring people who nurture our children, taking a back seat 'til they've been fed and cared for? Well, it seems we're the opposite.

Obviously the message to our own children and grandchildren shouts, stingingly clear messages assailing us daily: get ready, kids. We're taking your cereal, your cookies, forfeiting your wedding plans and visits home for the holidays so we can have this quick bite. And forget about a healthy earth. Don't even think about it.