I know we all have a lot on our minds right now, and really, it has been a couple years of, holy shit… going back to the lock down, and the Great Race War of 2020, and that time when the Duck Dynasty fan club tried to take over the US government and now, as the Supreme Court turns into the politburo and the earth melts beneath our feet, I would like to float this idea – Could we as a nation, … stop with the expression, “No worries”?

Unless you’re Australian I guess, but even then, maybe only occasionally, unless it’s really your thing. Unless you’re ready to raise your hand and say, “I’ll be the person who says No worries for a while!” Maybe your group of friends can get together and volunteer to take turns. I would love to take All good, fam! for the summer. I could try that on for size. I don’t think you even have to say it to a family member, I think it means, “You are now like family to me, at least for the length of this discussion.” 

“No worries,” is an utterly vapid platitude, and it is certainly never true. It started with the movie Crocodile Dundee – a random movie from a long, long time ago that had no business becoming a cultural touchstone in the first place, and yet here we are. (People really did seem to love the line, “That’s not a knife… That’s a knife!”)

The movie comes up SECOND after you type “croco” into google. 

Steve Irwin who died fucking around with crocs and whatnot is way down the list  -maybe he needed a catch phrase. Of course if you type in just “croc” – you get the whole shoe situation – another gimmick that no one thought would still be a thing.

And as long as we are on a tangent within a tangent…

People of New York, What is the deal with these things? 

Are you doing CGI for the new Halo game? 

Stop that. Stop with those fucking things right now.

But hey, No Worries, MATE … Right? 

It’s as if some people need so badly to put other’s minds at ease by taking themselves out of the equation completely – “Who me? Don’t worry about me. I’m over here not worrying about a damn thing. Did you think I was over here worrying? Cuz I AINT.”

 Cut to: Lonely looking middle-aged woman on the train – Adrian from the first Rocky movie – glasses, maybe a sweater in case the air conditioning on the train is too chilly, and she says, softly at first:

LONELY LOOKING MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN:

You guys… Hey everybody… HEY!  I’m worried.

Needle scratch across a record. Silence. Some blind guy looks over. Or the mariachi band stops playing, yeah that. That’s better.

OTHER GUY ON TRAIN:

The fuck you are.

(He stalks over to her, bends down.)

Whatchoo worried about?

LONELY LOOKING MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN:

Noth… Nothing.

OTHER GUY ON TRAIN:

I can’t hear you…

LONELY LOOKING MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN:

Nothing. 

(A brave smile.)

No… No worries!

OTHER GUY ON TRAIN:

That’s what I’m talking about!

The train erupts into a deafening cheer. The mariachi band begins to play again. The BLIND GUY’s dog barks in approval.

Cut to:

BITTER DUDE leans over to his friend.

BITTER DUDE:

Are we still saying that?

BITTER DUDE’S FRIEND:

(Mocking. Eye roll.)

“That’s what I’m talking about.”