A Spoonful of Fear Makes the Medicine Go Down...

Earthquake in Chile! 200 are feared dead!

Tranquil Waves Caress Hawaii's Sandy Beaches! Fear Spreads!

The media is always fascinated with fear and will flock and flounder to be the first to see heartbreak, to capture it "for you." Today was no different. Chile got old, so, like a child spitting out a piece of good-for-three-minutes piece of Fruit Stripes, cameras turned to Hawaii. The event? Well, nothing yet. Meanwhile, 33 aftershocks rattled Chile. We turned to Hawaii in hopes - er, in case - a giant tsunami may wash it away. We watched and waited and prayed and drove our cars to the highest peaks for fear that thousands may die. A river rose a bit and then receded. Analysts pored over the minutia of buoy data, predicting 29-foot waves while reporters feared only a high tide. A little wave washed over a resort. The civil defense sirens, like a passing train whistle, whirred in the television speakers. The news outlets pulled out all the stops and whipped up original fonts, filled in "Hawaii Tsunami" (which was yet to be determined) with flashing red letters and waited for someone to die. And somewhere in the distance, a pelican took a crap in the ocean.

The telephone interviews with Hawaiians revealed a normal Saturday: people eating brunch, disbelievers roaming the beach, a man surfing (from which the camera swiftly turned away; after all, this was a catastrophe), even a man oblivious to the network news camera who pulled out his Chapstick and fearlessly applied it within three inches of the lens. Obviously, hell was breaking loose. A reporter announced behind the scene of a beach that "you can see there is not a soul to be seen." Immediately a man appeared, leisurely strolling the coastline with his hands in his pockets and a flower-patterned shirt, to which the reporter responded, "Obviously, this man has no television... or radio... or methods of contact... or common sense." [Common sense looks a lot like fear.]

After the waves never came, the media sighed and drafted Chile in its second round pick of natural disasters. Nothing happened, nobody died, and sadly, no one was first to see nothing. There was nothing more to fear, so the world became boring again. The coffee went cold, the crossed fingers relaxed, and the world sat back for another scintillating round of footage and carnage. Hallelujah, our world was back at last.