I refuse to worry.

The market lost almost 1.5% on Friday, Dubai is failing and our own economy, though improving, is still struggling mightily. The Secret Service unwittingly allowed an un-authorized couple not only to enter the White House but to mingle with our nation's VIPs and shake the president's hand (this alone sends chills along my spine) yet the administration continues to iterate that it has every confidence in the elite body whose sole purpose is to protect the life of the U. S. President.

Uh, oh yes, there's the Middle East problem and the tiresome game of "chicken" between Israel led by the bellicose Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu and the Palestinians.

We're told to prepare ourselves for a major speech on Tuesday by President Obama regarding our nation's future commitment to what has become known as AF-PAK, the political stew of intransigence involving, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Taliban, Al Queida and India, not to mention the poor disenfranchised tribes who know little and care less about the central government in Kabul headed by an increasingly corrupt Karsai government grudgingly supported by the U. S.

Then we have Iran, whose current regime has become so insecure by the continued resistance to the elections in June, they are holding and executing (it is said) some of the detainees who voiced opposition. One recently released Mazia Bahari, a Newsweek journalist, has said in recent interviews that the Revolutionary Guard is becoming more and more powerful. This is bad.

Oh, and one of our most respected and upstanding athletes has just rammed his car into a fire hydrant and went on to claim a neighbor's tree early Friday morning and now rumors of an affair with an Australian madam are beginning to seep out. I just don't know. . .

Still, I refuse to worry.

Jodie Picoult is described as "faulknerian" -- why I don't know, except that she wrote a book about a brother and sister who loved each other. I've done that and nobody called ME "faulknerian."

The reality shows are taking over the air waves and there is nothing worth watching on TV anymore except Charlie Rose. Where is Lawrence O'Donnell when I'm desperate for another "West Wing?" He's become a pundit on the cable talk shows, of course.

Still I don't worry.

This morning I read that the Republican Party could as likely run Dick Cheney as their presidential candidate in 2012 as Sarah Palin. This fills me with such warm and fuzzy confidence that I can cheerfully hug my teddy bear at night and sleep the blissful sleep of a child because compared to this dazzling single piece of information, everything else fades away and becomes part of the bogeyman gumbo of childhood like waiting for the appearance of ogres under the bed.

I don't have to worry about the hidden monsters anymore. I've already met them.