'What, me worry?'

All my life I’ve had a huge problem. It must be some sort of chemical imbalance, especially when you compare me to others.

I’m far too happy.

Yes, it’s true. I’ve been extremely happy my entire existence. I also generally give the benefit of the doubt to those around me. For example, if Bernie Madoff were my neighbor, I would have given him a lasagna (or the kosher equivalent thereof). Even though his name should have clued everyone in before his financial empire crumbled (“mad off”), I would have been nice.

You read all the time about various miscreants who were depressed, down in the dumps and debilitated. That’s why, they’ll say, they killed someone else, often a relative. While I can indeed relate to that thought pattern, I definitely do NOT condone such action! Even in emergencies.

Mental health has been an issue since Pontius Pilate was a pup, so it’s certainly not anything new to the human race. Shakespeare had to write tragedies to make ends meet, even though (in my “happy” opinion) his comedies were better. No one remembers Van Gogh for jocularity. Ditto Nostradamus.

The current political scene is a classic case of the glass being half full. Our country may or may not be going to hell in a hand basket, but the process is a veritable gold mine of comedic opportunities! Not since Nixon/Agnew has the sky been so wide open for political satire. There’s a good reason why “Saturday Night Live” is once again a No. 1 show.

Even though I’ve developed a cataract in my right eye recently, I even see this as an object of humor. All you people made such a big deal out of the solar eclipse in our region this summer, even paying for special glasses or paying to actually watch the event. Meanwhile, I was thinking “ha!” since I was carrying around my own eclipse whenever I wanted merely by shutting one eye. At least until the surgery. And it was free!

People spend zillions of dollars on fixes for depression, but who ever heard of an ad for happiness? All right, maybe beer ads, but still ... most of the things that would really help tend to be illegal, anyway, although there are exceptions (California, Colorado and so on).

As simplistic as this may sound, I’ve always felt that doing the right thing is the best recipe for happiness. We all have an innate sense of right and wrong, unless of course you’re Charlie Manson or O.J. The “golden rule” pretty much covers it, I’ve always felt. Treat someone else as if you were that person! It’s not that difficult.

So don’t worry, be happy. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, but don’t forget to do unto yourself as well. Dance like no one’s watching. Life’s too short, and so is my girlfriend. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t believe how much I love her!

She makes me happy.

About R. W. Weeks:

Rob is a retired Southern Illinois University instructor who lives on his family’s farm in Union County Illinois. His mother Joan, who is a nice peron, lives in Cape Girardeau.