Great Healthcare Analogy

I am an enthusiastic proponent of a national single-payer healthcare system, like a national medicare. The stats on medicare show it to be a much more cost-effective method of providing basic healthcare than our current hodgepodge of competing insurance companies and healthcare providers. It's no surprise that whenever I raise this issue with one of our indigenous conservatives, their knee-jerk reaction is always always ALWAYS! "socialized medicine -- bleah!" I'm not going to get into how a single-payer system is fundamentally different from socialized medicine. It's simple and you probably already understand it. If you don't, post a snide comment and I'll provide my quick summary.

Monday I read Paul Krugman's column in the NY Times that captured the cognitive dissonance that permeates the Republican position on healthcare reform.

You've heard the Republican talking points against a single-payer healthcare system: It should be left to the free market, I don't want my taxes paying to fix someone who smokes, If I work hard I get better medical care, etc.

What if you substituted K-12 education for healthcare? In order to be consistent with the Republican position on healthcare, I'd have to take the position that since I don't have kids, I shouldn't be required to subsidize the education of someone else's kids. I'd have to advocate creating an open market for education and abolishing public schools entirely. If I earn a lot of money, I should be able get my kids a first-rate education, and if you can't afford it you're simply not working hard enough and will have to settle for a low-budget school. The government shouldn't mandate education -- it should be a matter of individual responsibility. I simply can't agree with any part of that position. Just writing those few sentences made me throw up a little in my mouth.

Honestly, isn't access to healthcare a critical element of a nation's standard of living? (By the way, ours is slipping rapidly.) I know education is considered a key element, as is literacy. Why is access to education mandatory while Americans are thrown to the wolves when it comes to healthcare? If you are sick, you can't go to school, you can't work, and you become a burden to family; not to mention the economic impact when you can't afford to pay for the care you do receive.

Here's what Krugman says:

The truth is that there's no difference in principle between saying every American child is entitled to an education and saying every American child is entitled to adequate health care. It's just a matter of historical accident that we think of access to free K-12 education as a basic right, but consider having the government pay children's medical bills "welfare," with all the negative connotations that go with that term.

And conservative opposition to giving every child in this country access to health care is, in a fundamental sense, un-American.

Here's what I mean: The great majority of Americans believe that everyone is entitled to a chance to make the most of his or her life. Even conservatives usually claim to believe that.

But a child who doesn't receive adequate health care, like a child who doesn't receive an adequate education, doesn't have the same shot - he or she doesn't have the same chances in life as children who get both these things.

And insurance is crucial to receiving adequate health care. The reality is that the nine million children in America who don't have health insurance often have unmet medical or dental needs.

I scored a symbolic victory a while back in a debate with an ultra-conservative cow-orker. We were discussing the issue of the rising cost of healthcare (in the context of an MSNBC article about a woman who was bankrupted by cancer treatment costs in spite of having insurance), and how the problem lay in part with the marketing costs that insurance companies incur competing with one another. As the discussion reached a climax, he said "the bigger the pool of insured, the lower the cost to the insurance company." So, naturally, I suggested that if the pool consisted of the entire population of the US. . . .

That ended the conversation.

Please, God, let us throw them all out in 2008 and start the long, slow march back to sanity. Our standard of living should be IMPROVING, not DETERIORATING! If anyone's getting a free-ride in all this, it's the insurance companies, who have a DUTY to their stockholders to maximize profits. That profit mandate should be completely excised from access to healthcare in this country.

Troublemaking and Home-brewed Bioweapons

It's no surprise that it's a good idea to properly maintain any personal life support equipment you rely on, such as SCUBA gear. I'm religous about having my main gear (regulators and buoyancy compensator, or BC) overhauled once a year according to the manufacturer's recommendation. I'm also pretty good about taking care of my regulator, gauges, and dive computer after each dive. My BC gets hosed off and stored properly, though I might not be quite as thorough.

However, when it comes to my wetsuit, boots, gloves, hood, etc., I'm pretty bad. Generally I'll hang them up when I get back from a local dive but I've also been known to let them ferment in my dive bag for a day or so. Do you know what can grow in wet nylon-covered neoprene in the summer heat & humidity? Me neither, but by God it smells like hell. I had to toss my first pair of cheap booties because I couldn't stand being in the same car with them. Yes, they were that bad. The replacements were much more expensive, but they don't stink at all (Henderson Insta-Dry).

I dove at Medina Lake yesterday (Sunday) and dragged my gear bag to the back porch next to the washtub & water hose. And they are still there today, and the bioweapons are fermenting. . . .

Troublemaking - it's one of my specialties. Sometimes it's what makes life worth living.

I've been wanting to prank Mistress Amber in gratitude for the pain she's been so generous in sharing with me. Last weekend I put my plan in motion. I ordered a "support ribbon" similar to those ubiquitous "support our troops" ribbons that serve as insipid substitutes for providing REAL support to our troops.

However, the one I ordered encouraged tailgaters to "Support Lap Dancing." (For my sheltered and morally upstanding readers, lap dancing is what a topless dancer does for you one-on-one if you give her enough money.) Imagine the attention that a nice looking girl in a car bearing that ribbon would receive. I did, and I laughed my ass off.

Saturday was PERFECT for this plan. I worked out with her Sat morning, and she parked her car so she wouldn't see the back end when she got in it. Afterward, she was going to her boyfriend's place of business for a company cookout. I didn't really want her to attract the wrong kind of attention, so the sooner she got it off her car the better. I figured that her boyfriend or one of his friends/cow-orkers would spot the ribbon at the BBQ.

This morning I found out it worked EXACTLY as planned! She drove the 20 miles or so to the BBQ, and at some point her boyfriend's roommate spotted it. They thought it was hilarious and one of the guys took it and put it on his vehicle. She had no idea how long it had been on her car (that's why I was worried about her getting the wrong kind of attention). Perfect.

This morning she told me she thought it was either me or some contractors working in the garage that had done it. I was very, very disappointed that she would assume that anyone else might do such a thing. I work hard to maintain my reputation, and to have my work product attributed to construction workers was a real blow to my ego. I'll just have to work harder next time.

I already have a victim selected for the "Some Asshole Stole my Support Ribbon" magnet. The same one that had "For Sale - Driver Included" written in the dust on her rear window for a brief period.

Happy Birthday - Seven Years >-.

Fun on Beale St.

Memphis' Beale Street was the heart of black business in the era before the civil rights movement of the 1960s. It was also a nexus of the Memphis blues community. Thanks to Sun records, Elvis, and Stax records, Memphis contributed a unique sound to the American musical palette.

Tonight my cow-orker and I strolled along Beale, shopping for souvenirs and listening to live music. We heard some good music and we heard some shit (karaoke). I finally made it to a Coyote Ugly. It was fun, but there weren't very many people in the house, so there wasn't a lot of energy. Plus, there were a bunch of starched-shirt, button-down dweebs that flat creeped me out. No harm done, and we both made it back safely. It's late, so my bet is that I won't get to the fitness center early tomorrow. If it works out, great. If not I'll just have to have my ass beat like that poor shithead who was dumb enough to go into Coyote Ugly on his birthday. I know those two girls' belts left marks on his ass.

Howlin' Wolf says "hi."

Walking in Memphis

Yet another hotel swimming pool the size of a washtub. I guess I've got to get used to this. At least there's a decent fitness center (I went and inspected it). Hopefully I'll see it again.

Our hosts are providing lunches during our visit, and they're picking the food. Remember, I'm in Memphis. Monday it was FRIED CHICKEN (with cole slaw, baked beans, and PIE). They've already warned us that two days this week we're getting barbecue. I can almost guarantee that we'll have barbecue for dinner at least once this week.

Good news: Monday night I had four-cheese ravioli instead of BBQ or steak. Business travel makes it hard to watch what you eat. You have the opportunity to eat things that you can't get at home, and it's hard to rationalize eating the same old shit: Grilled chicken salads, grilled chicken sandwiches, etc. I also have a hard time throwing food away -- it's the way I was raised, plus I acknowledge the sacrifice of the animal I'm eating and feel an obligation to honor that sacrifice.

Tuesday morning I actually made it to the elliptical machine. Not as good as the one at work, but adequate. There's hope that at least this trip I won't backslide as much as I have during other trips.

These entries are getting boring. I'll be working on that.

Flower Gardens AGAIN

Yes, last weekend (Aug 11-12), I went BACK out to the Flower Garden Banks NMS for a weekend of diving fun. I thought you might like to see a couple of pictures of creatures I haven't published before. This is a delicious brown sea cucumber we saw crawling about the sea floor.


And this little beauty is yet another spotted moray eel.



Capt. Frank's Trip Report is an absolute must-read. One of the best I've read in a while!


Cheers!

Elvis Lives!

This is depressing.

I'm about to head off to Graceland and am certain to see Elvis, and since nobody reads this blog nobody will hear about (or see my pictures of) Elvis. Sad.

Well, the upside is that I will be hearing some great live blues. Unless some horrible fate befalls me, we're staying on Beale Street in downtown Memphis, and great live blues will only be a short walk away. I hope it won't conflict with my bedtime.

Tonight I gird my loins for yet another hotel stay complete with pool and fitness center and I'm full of motivation. There's something about airplane air that saps it out of me, though. After I arrive, I realize I've forgotten to pack my motivation with my running shoes, shorts, swim goggles, and swim trunks. I push them aside, curse the space that they took up in my suitcase, and repack them when I'm ready to come home. Maybe this time will be different.

I'll try and remember some souvenirs. I think Mistress Amber would be much scarier with mutton chop sideburns.

A Challenge for my Reader(s)

"Find a job you love, and you'll never work a day in your life."
Attributed to Confucius, there's some logic to this sound bite, though
I don't fully subscribe to it.

I was chatting last week with an old friend, recently retired from a
high profile politically-appointed position with our state government.
We were discussing what his life was like after being an agency
Commissioner. He said that when he left the Commission, he didn't know what he was going to do with himself.

To answer this question, he called another former commissioner and
asked their advice. The suggestion he received was simple and to the point. It's a good suggestion even for those of us who have good jobs but feel like we're missing out on something.

He was told to "make a list of five things you would you be willing to do for free. Now, go find someone willing to pay you to do some or all of them."

My friend rattled off a list of things he enjoyed doing, and then described how he'd managed to create a consulting business that leveraged his personal strengths and professional experience.

I first tried this exercise when I read the book What Should I Do With My Life by Po Bronson and the Dalai Lama's book The Art of Happiness. My earlier attempts at this exercise weren't completely successful, primarily because a) what I'd be willing to do for free changes over time and b) I always skew the results to support whatever leisure activity I'm fixated on at the moment. However, the list my friend put together contained more personal characteristics (like "helping people develop consensus"). When I've done this exercise before, I've rejected anything related to my current career path. So with this new information, I'm rethinking my approach to this question.


So here's your challenge. In the "snide comments" section, share your list of "things you'd be willing to do for free." You may omit those things which would lead to employment as a porn "actor/actress," rock star, or taste tester. In other words, those things that we'd ALL include in our lists.

Update 9 Aug 2007 6:17pm:
When coming up with your list, assume that you don't have to worry about money. Just ignore that practical side -- you're looking for what you love.

Joy for Some, Irony for Me

Guess what I got in the mail on Friday? The official notification that my application for admission as a senior to our local university was accepted. I've seen the joy that many high school graduates feel when they get that letter. It means they've got a chance to be something. I didn't get that feeling.

I was really lucky when I graduated from high school. Thanks to my academics and test scores, I would have been accepted to almost any college I applied for. In retrospect, I don't think I picked the right school, but who's to say what's "right?" Maybe I went where I needed to be. Still, I can't shake the feeling that I wasn't aiming high enough when I picked schools. But I digress.

Once again, my acceptance to this university was a foregone conclusion -- I already knew what the answer was going to be because I met the criteria for "automatic" acceptance: A baccalaureate degree from an approved college. As lagniappe, I even had a graduate degree.

But think of the kids whose high school grades and test scores aren't as high as mine were. Those kids for whom the letter I received represents a chance to break the chains of ignorance and poverty and join the ranks of the educated. It embodies the promise of an education that will expose them to the larger picture and enable them to more fully understand the beautiful complexity of the world.

I do know the feeling of waiting for such a letter. I remember the protracted, edge-of-my-seat panic I endured after I applied to many graduate schools. My acceptance was anything but guaranteed -- it was a long shot. My undergraduate performance was lackluster, and thanks to ignorance and apathy my score on the standardized admissions tests I took were barely acceptable. I was absolutely terrified that I wouldn't be accepted, because I had a college degree that made me uniquely qualified to read the newspaper, but little else. Back to the closet in the file room with you, buddy.

The irony here is that, absent some radical and sudden change in my situation, I'm not going to our local university or any other school. I'm as smart as I'm going to get. I had more than my fair share of luck, and still ended up in a job with no future -- a dead end. Despite my education, I'm not utilizing it. It's not that I can't do anything else, it's that I have no idea what I'd rather be doing. The education and experience I've accumulated has become a burden rather than the key to a brighter future.

Well, this post got happy fast, didn't it? I'll shut it down before I make myself any giddier.

Wednesday in Austin

Well, I heard through the grapevine that Mistress Amber survived her surgery and all that remains is for her to travel through the gauntlet of pain until she heals. Poor thing. But, she's been through worse, so she'll come through just fine. Also, she's probably got more friends and family than anyone I've ever met, so she's not hurting for moral support.

Anyway . . . . here I am in sunny, downtown Austin hacking away on my laptop. What a geek! I'm a block from Town Lake and its first-rate jogging trail, and I KNOW Mistress Amber would bitch-slap me if I passed up that opportunity. Hell, I might even bitch-slap myself -- nobody's around to see . . . . Naaaaah, don't even go there.

Ultimately, my plan is to hit the pool hard while I'm here. I'm glad it's an indoor pool so I won't have half the hotel as an audience while I flounder (no pun intended -- I don't intend to bury myself in muck on the bottom!) around without my customary diving gear. It's very disconcerting to swim gear-free when you're used to having both air and swim-aids (fins & a buoyancy compensator). I don't know why I'm concerned about being seen, but that's just how I am. It would be a different story if I was rigged up to dive. That's manlier. :) OK, I've changed my mind -- my real reason for being happy it's an indoor pool is because I don't have to worry about skin cancer. That's my story. Of course, if it's full of piss-streaming disease vectors I'll probably run down to the river and swim in the bat droppings. At least that'll be somewhat more hygienic.

Oh, yeah, the work-related reason I'm here is to attend an environmental law conference. I have attended this conference every year for more than ten years, and it's always excellent. I always run into people I've worked with at some point over the past 20 years.

Update: 8:45pm
OK, I'm gonna get thrashed. Or I'm going to stay fat & flabby & out-o-shape. I wasn't responsible after all. I looked at the pool, and it was about 2m wide by 15m long. If there had been one other person using it I wouldn't have been able to swim. Plus, it was outside after all. I looked in the fitness center and they had a lot of machines, but they were almost on top of each other. I'll try & run early tomorrow morning, if I can.

Hunger started to tweak at me so I went to a Vietnamese place not far from the hotel, on 6th St. Afterwards, the unmistakable sound of live blues music wafted over from a bar across the street. There was no cover charge, so I went in and bought a coke & listened to a blues trio, the Jamie Krueger Group, whip out a few tunes. Jamie's vocals are strong, and he was getting a great tone out of his vintage Fender Strat. Nice & meaty, with that particular edge you hear from Texas blues guitarists.

Now I'm back in the hotel room, back on the laptop, working on an audio project I've been wanting to finish for a while.