Stupid Anxiety

Ahh, anxiety. Like Gilligan to my Skipper, it's an annoying sidekick I just can't stand. It's probably better than being Sean Hannity's conjoined twin, but that's about it. And, like a woman on Montel who "loves too much" I can't seem to stay away from it's abusive company for long. Coming from a long line of chronic worriers, anxiety is a bit of a birthright in my family. While some children are born with silver spoons in their mouths, in my family it's Tums. My insanity has reached the point where if I find myself not worrying about life, I become fearful that if I don't start worrying I'll somehow jinx things. So I start to worry because I'm not worrying; which is messed up with a capital F. Oh, and could you please pass the Xanax? Thanks.

I tell you that as a prelude that might explain the completely unreasonable reaction I had to a television commercial recently. It's a Michelin commercial where the Michelin Man is out looking for his dog in a terrible storm. He's visibly worried, the stress showing on his big dumb tire face. The car he's driving is swerving to miss downed trees and power lines. He stops the car and finds his stupid little tire dog who, without a care in the world, comes running and jumps in the Michelin Man's arms. Now there are some legitimate reasons to hate this commercial. First of all why is the Michelin Man driving a car? Isn't he made of a bunch of tires stacked together? Couldn't he just roll? Secondly if he is ,in fact, made of tires then why is he white? If this country is ready to strongly consider a black man for President ("yes we can!"), then is it not also time to demand a realistic (read: black) Michelin Man?

But it's not these things that make me react so strongly to this commercial. It's the fact that while the Michelin Man is so concerned with his pet's well-being, his beef-witted pet is soooo dog-gone (thank you Sarah Palin) care free, you betcha! I mean here's this poor guy who's already got things stacked against him. He's not the best looking fella you'll ever meet. He's got a little more sidewall showing than he used to and now he's gotta risk life and tread and be worried silly about this dog who doesn't even care?

But of course I know the real problem (stupid self-awareness); I'm so frickin envious of that little cur of a CGI tire mutt that I truly wish him ill will. I'm jealous of people that go through life care free. What I need to do is respect that steel-belted canine for what he's accomplished, follow his example, and strive to do so myself. It's time for me to "let go, and let dog."