If the markets and the election want to make you tear your hair out...here's a much better alternative: laugh.
First off--politics. I highly recommend the latest edition of "National Review", where Rob Long, who used to write for "Cheers", has an "article" on suggested reading for pre-teen girls. The list includes books like "The Chattering Skull," about a young, spunky detective/explorer named Sarah Palin, who's teamed up with Old Doc McCain to discover "The Chattering Skull" inside Joe Biden's office. There's also "Are You There, God? It's Me, Sarah", about a young woman who helps a pregnant girlfriend confront the baby's father. In just about every "book", the McCain character is described as old, like, really old (even "decrepit old geezer" in "We Were There: The Weather Underground Tries to Blow up the Capitol! A 'SaraDventure' Series!").
My favorite "excerpt" is from "The Stuck-Up Crowd":
"I know I shouldn't care what those stuckup rich kids say about me," Sarah Palin, star point guard of the Wasilla High School basketball team, said as she slumped into the chair in Coach's office. "But why do they have to be so mean?"
Big, fat tears appeared in Sarah's eyes.
Old Coach Big John McCain looked across his desk at his MVP. She had played well in that night's game--heck, she had scored most of the points--but still, the mean crowd hadn't given her any credit. The cheerleaders had offered only the most lukewarm cheers, and the rich girls in the stands--the ones with the imported cars and the wealthy parents--refused to clap for her excellent free throws and three-pointers.
"Hey, kiddo," Coach growled. "You want sympathy, get a dog."
Sarah looked up.
"Seriously, girl. What do you want? A pity party? Well, I'm too old and broken down to throw one for you. So I'll just tell you this: Some of those girls can be awfully mean, and awfully petty, and awfully spoiled. Do you really want to be their friend?"
"Well ..." said Sarah, uncertain.
"Do you? Do you really want to ride around in Sally Quinn's Volvo?"
"Maybe just one time?" Sarah said, timidly. But she knew the ancient coach was right.
"Get up off that chair and do what you do best. Play basketball. Play your heart out. Be the kind of player that they can't ignore. Deal?"
Sarah's smile was wide, and her teeth flashed happily.
"Gosh, Coach, thanks!" she said.
"Oh, and Sarah?" the old, old coach called out, as Sarah headed to the locker room.
"Every now and then, throw an elbow!"
Coach smiled his yellowed smile, and Sarah tossed her head back and laughed. Everything was going to be all right!
OBAMA MEETS THE GREAT WHITE WAY
On the other end of the political spectrum, Broadway meets Obama (OBroadma?) in "Les Miz." If you haven't seen it yet, it's pretty funny.