An excellent article in the New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/07/health/07health.html?pagewanted=all) recently pointed out that doctors spend incredible sums of money dealing with insurance companies. Doctors often must hire two office workers just to submit documents and talk to insurance reps. That means they have to make enough money to pay for those workers, meaning they squeeze more patients into thinner time slots. It is impossible to know by how much the quality of care is reduced, but it is certainly significant. One doctor said that by going off the hmo, he was able to see half the patients for twice the time, and was able to offer much more individualized and quality care.
The uselessness and cost of extra bureaucracy is a great argument against government run health care. It is an even better argument against the ludicrous cap and trade bill currently before Congress. Instead of implementing a simple carbon tax and using the revenue exclusively to combat environmental degradation, cap and trade sets up a complex system that will end up doing little to limit carbons but will do plenty to make ordinary Americans suffer.
Even before the bill has been passed, oil companies are already saying that they will be passing off all the new costs to consumers. Even worse, they will not limit production as the plan intends, but simply purchase oil from foreign importers (Bloomberg: http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601087&sid=a1ZiIqv3E4QE). Basically, its a triple-threat of bad policy: it will not limit carbons as intended, ordinary Americans will be hit hard in a bad economy, and Americans will lose jobs when oil companies close local plants to save money.
What we're going to get from this bill is an expansion of government and little else. It's bad for the economy, it's bad for the environment, and it's bad for America.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Seeing an Old Neighbor
Yesterday after church, I ran into two old neighbors of mine, Mr. and Mrs. Dormani. I hadn't seen in them in a few years, and they were certinaly two of the most friendly people I have ever met. George, who is 85 but has the energy of a man 25 years younger, immediately remembered my name and shook hands as if he was my best friend and we saw each other every day.
Then he turned rather serious and said, "Do you know where I was 65 years ago today?" I knew that George was a World War II vet, and this was the 65th aniversary of D-Day, but I still only managed to stumble out "D-Day." Then he said, "Yes, I was sitting in a boat in the English Channel. We couldn't go ashore yet because they hadn't cleared the beach, so we waited for the artillery to make way for us." I asked him if he was frightened. He smiled at me and said, "Well, I was 20." I said, "George, I'm 20. I'd be scared out of mind." "I don't know about that," George said. "When you're young you just know it's what you have to do, and I was more excited than anything else." I was struck by his demeanor. He was serious, yet he remembered it almost as one recalls an important sporting event. Very matter of fact and calm.
Over 2 million Americans eventually fought their way through Normany in June of 1944. My own grandfather had been part of a similar attack on a beach in Anzio, Italy in January, that led to the defeat of the Axis in Rome. He didn't talk about the war much. He mostly reminisced about the Italian girls and his favorite restaurants - though my Dad says he always complained about the idiocy of the generals - I don't know why, but I'm not surprised that a Pergament had a problem with bad decision-makers.
Before we left church, George told me to do what I love, and to recognize what I had to do when I had to do it. He also said to tell everyone that I talked to a veteran of D-Day. So that's I'm doing.
To George, my grandfather Hyman Pergament, and to everyone who served and serves our country, thank you.
Then he turned rather serious and said, "Do you know where I was 65 years ago today?" I knew that George was a World War II vet, and this was the 65th aniversary of D-Day, but I still only managed to stumble out "D-Day." Then he said, "Yes, I was sitting in a boat in the English Channel. We couldn't go ashore yet because they hadn't cleared the beach, so we waited for the artillery to make way for us." I asked him if he was frightened. He smiled at me and said, "Well, I was 20." I said, "George, I'm 20. I'd be scared out of mind." "I don't know about that," George said. "When you're young you just know it's what you have to do, and I was more excited than anything else." I was struck by his demeanor. He was serious, yet he remembered it almost as one recalls an important sporting event. Very matter of fact and calm.
Over 2 million Americans eventually fought their way through Normany in June of 1944. My own grandfather had been part of a similar attack on a beach in Anzio, Italy in January, that led to the defeat of the Axis in Rome. He didn't talk about the war much. He mostly reminisced about the Italian girls and his favorite restaurants - though my Dad says he always complained about the idiocy of the generals - I don't know why, but I'm not surprised that a Pergament had a problem with bad decision-makers.
Before we left church, George told me to do what I love, and to recognize what I had to do when I had to do it. He also said to tell everyone that I talked to a veteran of D-Day. So that's I'm doing.
To George, my grandfather Hyman Pergament, and to everyone who served and serves our country, thank you.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Ebbetts Country Club II
If the Los Angeles Dodgers meet the New York Mets in the National League Championship this year, a definite possibility, the Dodgers will have a distinctive home field advantage, no matter which team had a better regular season record. They'll have three or four at home in L.A., and three or four more at what will strike them as very familiar territory - the Mets' CitiField.
When the Dodgers' team bus pulls up to the stadium, the players will recognize a facade in perfect imitation of Ebbetts' Field, the Brooklyn Dodgers' home when they played in New York half a century ago. Then, they'll walk in the front doors to see an enormous tribute to Dodgers legend Jackie Robinson, including a huge display of "42," Robinson's number.
The Dodgers are already the best home team in baseball, and Citi's friendly confines will only add to it. All this so Mets' owner Fred Wilpon can relive his boyhood as a Dodgers fan before the team abandoned the city.
Mets fans are not ignorant of Wilpon's obvious tribute to the Dodgers. Many have complained that CitiField is devoid of any Mets history or team pride. Anything not dedicated to the Dodgers is blatant corporatism, from the Pepsi Porch to the Delta Restaurant in left field to Caesar's Lounge behind home plate. Worse, most of the prime seating behind home plate is dedicated to an emperor's throne luxury terrace for Wilpon and his family, and the rest to more luxury boxes.
Fans are not even allowed to explore the stadium despite paying outrageous prices for tickets. You are only allowed to walk on your own level.
Baseball is not supposed to be a country club where you sip whiskey and relax in lounge chairs. A baseball game is about a couple of franks and what's happening on the field. Tennis and golf are supposed to be the elite's entertainment, but Wilpon wants to kill baseball and turn our Queens Metsies into the Southhampton Metropolitans.
But Wilpon can't hide his intentions to remake the Mets as the Dodgers, even if he can segregate fans with idiotic rules. There was a trivia text poll at the game on Sunday. It asked, "Where did the Mets first play home games?" - Shea Stadium, Ebbetts Field, or the Polo Grounds?
On the scoreboard, they showed live updates as the votes came in. At first, the tally was overwhelmingly for the correct answer - the Polo Grounds, at 88 percent. Shea and Ebbetts came in at 6 percent each.
But then, fans realized it was their chance to send a little message. Without any organization, they started texting away to vote for Ebbetts field, in a clear display of displeasure that Wilpon built Ebbetts Field II instead of a new home for the Mets. The next update showed Ebbetts field at nearly 60 percent, and the stadium crew stopped showing the results, switching to a silly poll about "Where would you like to go on vacation?"
The message, however, was clear. Mets fans did not want Dodger stadium. But Wilpon did, along with his fancy country club, and that's what we got.
When the Dodgers' team bus pulls up to the stadium, the players will recognize a facade in perfect imitation of Ebbetts' Field, the Brooklyn Dodgers' home when they played in New York half a century ago. Then, they'll walk in the front doors to see an enormous tribute to Dodgers legend Jackie Robinson, including a huge display of "42," Robinson's number.
The Dodgers are already the best home team in baseball, and Citi's friendly confines will only add to it. All this so Mets' owner Fred Wilpon can relive his boyhood as a Dodgers fan before the team abandoned the city.
Mets fans are not ignorant of Wilpon's obvious tribute to the Dodgers. Many have complained that CitiField is devoid of any Mets history or team pride. Anything not dedicated to the Dodgers is blatant corporatism, from the Pepsi Porch to the Delta Restaurant in left field to Caesar's Lounge behind home plate. Worse, most of the prime seating behind home plate is dedicated to an emperor's throne luxury terrace for Wilpon and his family, and the rest to more luxury boxes.
Fans are not even allowed to explore the stadium despite paying outrageous prices for tickets. You are only allowed to walk on your own level.
Baseball is not supposed to be a country club where you sip whiskey and relax in lounge chairs. A baseball game is about a couple of franks and what's happening on the field. Tennis and golf are supposed to be the elite's entertainment, but Wilpon wants to kill baseball and turn our Queens Metsies into the Southhampton Metropolitans.
But Wilpon can't hide his intentions to remake the Mets as the Dodgers, even if he can segregate fans with idiotic rules. There was a trivia text poll at the game on Sunday. It asked, "Where did the Mets first play home games?" - Shea Stadium, Ebbetts Field, or the Polo Grounds?
On the scoreboard, they showed live updates as the votes came in. At first, the tally was overwhelmingly for the correct answer - the Polo Grounds, at 88 percent. Shea and Ebbetts came in at 6 percent each.
But then, fans realized it was their chance to send a little message. Without any organization, they started texting away to vote for Ebbetts field, in a clear display of displeasure that Wilpon built Ebbetts Field II instead of a new home for the Mets. The next update showed Ebbetts field at nearly 60 percent, and the stadium crew stopped showing the results, switching to a silly poll about "Where would you like to go on vacation?"
The message, however, was clear. Mets fans did not want Dodger stadium. But Wilpon did, along with his fancy country club, and that's what we got.
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