What, me Worry?

“Yet man was born unto trouble as the sparks fly upward.” Job 5:7

Famous words of one Alfred E. Neuman, a role model for children of the 50’s. This grinning, snaggle-toothed idiot with jug ears and a crooked eye graced over 500 Mad Magazine covers dating from 1954, when I discovered him. Or, he discovered me.

I was 12, covered with zits, buck-teeth, and grinned like a goofy country boy eatin’ sausage. I had no worries to my name, or, with the exception of a bag of marbles and a stack of comic books, had nothing else, either. He was my icon then, and remains so now. Shrinks say we learn to be who we are at an early age. This may explain some things about my generation’s character.

What exactly do children have to worry about, anyway? Not much. Ok, forget the small troubles boys always get into. I like to call them ‘learning experiences.’ Experimentations with fire were my favorite. Once, my brother and I almost burned down our town by torching a sedge field…but the statute of limitations has now run and the sheriff’s dead, so I can ‘fess up to the minor indiscretion.

My pals and I preferred other harmless combustible and lethal devices, including dynamite and guns. What, us worry? We were indestructible. We’d not yet learned about the incendiary consequences of what’s now called ‘social relationships.’ Especially those that involved the opposite sex. Comparatively speaking, our other learning experiments were child’s play when it came to women. Alfred E. Neuman began to become irrelevant when we learned these things.

In summary of youthful worries, I think it was the stash of dimes my mother always seemed to have that saved me from the trauma of anxiety. Dimes purchased comic books. I never threw one out. They towered in large stacks and were terrific for trading with friends. In retrospect, perhaps comic-book trading should be a requisite course in all MBA programs. I bet they teach this in China, y’all.

But we can forget these old days of youthful glee. Big worries consume us now. Do I have to name them? If I did, package stores would quickly run out of all things alcoholic. And that would be something to really worry about.

Just this week I picked up The New Yorker magazine and, lo and behold, I see an artist’s rendering of mass hysteria….people fleeing an approaching huge, black asteroid, Apophis by name, speeding at 25,000 miles per hour towards the earth. It portended a catastrophic conclusion of the world and all social experiments therein. Facebook included. Now, there’s something to worry about, folks.

Curious, and somewhat frightened, I read on. Scientists pontificated on the reality of the result of the mass destruction of all mankind, like the dinosaurs. They suggested ‘we’ll’ be the dinosaurs if one of these asteroids strikes the planet. Of course, as in all news, ‘talking heads’ and ‘experts’ dominate the discussion, leading the illiterate into their intended conclusions. I came to the conclusion they had never heard of Alfred E. Neuman.

Multiple options were discussed on the eradication of these threats to humanity. Government funded, of course. What’s new here? Everybody wants government funding these days. Hell, it seems everybody’s getting’ it already. But while that theme was not quite explicit, it was indeed implicit. It’s gonna cost more than dimes for comic books, children.

Even the Alfred E. Neuman occupying the Casa Blanca joined in, commenting from his orbit. His solution? Put a man on the Apophis asteroid threat, aim it at Russia and hope. But Russia had already thought of that possibility, and planned the same thing. I wondered if Bruce Willis were for hire to the highest bidder.

Other interesting solutions were discussed: wrapping the menace in plastic, thereby creating a solar sail to send it elsewhere in space; place a huge bazooka on the moon to pummel it with boulders; explode it with nuclear warheads. The list went on and on, ad absurdum.

No conclusion has apparently been reached for the eradication of these threats. But it is giving folks another something to worry about. At least it takes the mind off more mundane matters, like bills, healthcare, and raising children. And that’s a benefit untold.

What, me worry? Not yet. I’m looking for traders for my old Mad Magazines…what do you have for trade?

Bud Hearn
March 3, 2011