INTRODUCTION: I wonder if anybody here can relate to what the great theologian

and philosopher, Irma Bombeck, once said:

I've always worried a lot, and frankly I'm good at it. I worry about introducing people

and going blank when I get to my mother. I worry about a shortage of ball bearings, a

snake coming up through the kitchen drain. I worry about the world ending at midnight

and getting stuck with three hours on a twenty-four hour cold capsule. I worry about

getting into the Guinness World Book of Records under "Pregnancy: Oldest Recorded

Birth." I worry what the dog thinks when he sees me coming out of the shower. I worry

that one of my children will marry an Eskimo who will set me adrift on an iceberg when I

can no longer feed myself. I worry about salesladies following me into the fitting room,

oil slicks, and Carol Channing going bald. I worry about scientists discovering someday

that lettuce has been fattening all along.