When I was little I feared sitting on Santa's lap and the Easter Bunny. That was smart fear. They were grown men of dubious motivation in fur-lined costumes.
Growing up American, fears were encouraged in the same way as milk with fish sticks. Fear was good for you. And it was all around you. Not just things you can see or touch but, and especially, things you had never thought about. Teachers, DARE officers, and "60 Minutes" on Sunday nights were great for getting the fear out there.
Fear sticks and so does it's unfortunate side-effect: paralysis. It keeps some people from passports and keeps others in churches. It keeps Applebee's and Olive Garden open in Times Square. Sadly, it doesn't deter talentless people from auditioning for American Idol (a true mystery and possible kink in fear's branding efforts.)
At a time when the media seems to be hitting the fear button on their keyboard at an irresponsible and disgraceful pace, I think its best if we stop and think about the man in the Easter Bunny suit. Because he is real. And the rest is just nonsense.
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