Don’t Worry, Be Happy

According to the news, Americans just aren’t happy right now. Oh sure, the restaurants are packed, folks are munching on popcorn in the movie theaters, filling up football stadiums, and taking vacations, but the polls don’t lie. People are in a bad mood.

Jobs are plentiful, gas prices are down, the stock market is up, and inflation is finally slowing, but I don’t see any confetti. The pandemic, the 2020 election controversy, the Capitol riots, and the other traumas we faced are largely in the rear view mirror. Still, no one is doing cartwheels.

And no wonder. Rent is up, it’s dang near impossible to buy a house, car prices are high, and cereal costs about 6 bucks a box. Cereal!

Sure, our churches are holding in-person services again, kids don’t have to wear masks in school, and you can visit your ailing relatives, but some folks won’t be satisfied until life is like it was before the pandemic.

We prayed the days of mobile morgues parked outside hospitals would end. Eventually our prayers were answered, so we moved on. But the national anger meter shot back up when fast food joints started charging more for food. They were just trying to bring in enough money to fund pay hikes, so people would apply for jobs. Many inflation-weary Americans considered this another national nightmare.

Maybe if we change presidents, it will all revert. Like Harry Truman said, the buck stops in the White House. That’s why if gas prices go up, it’s the president’s fault. But if they go down, big whoop, we know it won’t last. Here’s a scary thought. If we change presidents and Cheerios don’t tumble back down to $1.99, who do we blame then?

Well, we have to change something. And we’re not going to change Congress. Don’t get me wrong, we hate Congress. But we’ll re-elect our Congressperson, because we always do.

So how do we regain our happiness? It’s a given that no matter who gets elected president, half the country will be angry. Some may even refuse to accept the results. And when the winning side doesn’t roll gas prices back to $1.49, we’ll be even madder.

I can find only one remedy. Nostalgia.

Doctors often tell patients who are dealing with grief and depression to think happy thoughts. They tell us to remind ourselves of what made us smile during the best times of our lives. So in preparation for what could be a challenging year, I’ve made my list.

I want to be as happy as I was when our most difficult teacher stayed out of school, and a substitute let us watch a movie. Or better yet, cartoons.

I want to be as happy as I was when my parents would take me to my cousins’ house to play.

I want to be as happy as I was when my Papaw Carroll would give me a birthday card with dimes taped inside, one for each year of my life. This continued until I turned 20, with two dollars worth of dimes. I still have those cards, with every dime still taped and untouched.

I want to be as happy as I was when my mother was cooking something special in the kitchen, because company was coming! (Go to YouTube right now, and find the old Porter Wagoner song, “Company’s Comin’.” It’s the story of the south from my childhood and before.)

I want to be as happy as I was when I saw the picture on a color TV for the first time. It was at our preacher’s house. For some reason, I started visiting the preacher quite often.

I want to be as happy as I was when I ate my first Krystal burger with cheese. Talk about a life changer.

And I want to be as happy as I was when Mr. Bouldin, a teacher who thought all boys were troublemakers, gave me a “91” on my essay, then looked me in the eye and said, “Son, I’m right proud of you.”

That’s how happy I wish we could all be. I hope we don’t let a presidential election steal our joy.