Editor Prepared to Shiver in New Set of Boots

I just completed my order for a new, larger pair of fine cowboy boots. Why boots when I work inside away from all manner of vile things? So I will be better enabled to shiver in my boots.
Fear is big business, especially in these modern times. Fear sells and sells big. Without fear that leads to panic, who would really give a hoot about an illness named after a hog?
Call it “swine flu” and pharmaceutical firms sell not only vaccine, but also lots of other associated products, like blood pressure pills and ulcer medicine, Kleenex and aspirin.
Then, when they really want to scare the pants off us, they don’t even give it a name, they assign numbers and letters: H1N1. Without my glasses, I erroneously thought the headline declared “hiney,” which of course it did not.
Numbers and letters make us think of fast, inanimate objects, like jet planes and mortality: X-15, F-16, A-4, to name just a few. Tag an illness with it, and…poof, you have sudden death, or just about that in most folks’ minds.
Get the H1N1, and by golly, the next thing you really need to do is contact your friendly neighborhood mortician and make some really fast pre-need selections, or at least that’s the seeming hidden message the mass media is telling us.
Spout Off, ever the source of true local information, has some people buzzing that the county wants to do away with senior citizens because it won’t give them shots against H1N1 (a.k.a. swine flu).
The spouters must have missed the part in the message that states, senior citizens are not prone to that flu, since they have already built up immunities over time to the most recent scourge of mankind.
No, the county is not trying to get rid of seniors. Of course, those who spout that stuff can’t believe it, but why bother with the truth?
Truth only gets in the way of fear, and fear is what this column is all about.
Plant the seed of fear, and no one can shake it loose.
The health care insurance flap is another fear-instilling story that has people gulping down Maalox by the gallon.
Cell phones are another fear instilling device, although many may not think of them in that light. We, and I say this because I find myself addicted to the cell phone, are afraid to leave home without one.
Heading to church on Sunday, I had a really serious internal debate rattling around in my head. Left side said, “Take the phone, you never know what might happen, and you might need the phone.” Right side countered, “Al, get real for once in your life! The Pilgrims crossed the Atlantic on the Mayflower without a cell phone. Native Americans existed quite contentedly for several thousand years without cell phones.
Henry Hudson lost his way, and probably could have used a cell phone, but he didn’t and he tripped upon Cape May. You’re going about two miles, and you need a cell phone? What ails you?”
The left side won, but I got to church and back without having to resort to my cell phone. Miraculous to be sure.
Fear comes in many shapes and sizes. Tell a teenager they have bad breath, and you’ve instilled fear into a young soul. Only gallons of mouthwash will release their anxieties.
Tell a housewife her windows are dingy and floors are filthy, and she’ll be in a stir because “company” might come, think her unfit, and banish her from their Christmas card list.
I swear Saturn installed the “Check Engine Light” to plant a seed of fear in my heart that the engine would blow through the hood if I didn’t take it to the dealership for repair.
It comes on, usually after a fill up of gas or when I start the engine three times in rapid succession. Then, it stays on for about three days. I’ve actually checked the engine when the light came on. It was still there, still had plenty of oil and brake fluid and coolant, and so I figured I had done what the car commanded.
Nope, fear didn’t win, but the seed of doubt was planted.
Fear makes insurance companies immensely wealthy. Just ask a young couple, “What if, God forbid, something happened to you, who would care for your spouse?” Let that notion ruminate for a day or two, and it’s an automatic return phone call.
“OK, let’s talk about the $1 million policy you were discussing on Tuesday,” is the likely caller’s response. Sale consummated, case closed. Fear worked again.
Parents use fear as a tool from early childhood, so we are content with fear from a tender age.
“You better not climb on the cabinet, or else!” “So help me, if you do that one more time I’m going to…” “You just wait ‘til your father gets home!” “If you don’t eat those beans, no dessert, no playing outside, not until you eat.”
Thus, in my new cowboy boots I will shiver at the very thought of catching hog flu or M2K3 or maybe a leftover version of the Hong Kong flu (remember that one?) or Siberian sickness or oh, gosh, Darmstadt blues. No, no, not the Darmstadt blues, anything but them.
Just remember, wash your hands, sneeze into your elbow, eat broccoli, get lots of sleep, and none of this will visit your humble abode. Then again, it might, and you’ll be sorry!