Sunday, November 10, 2013
Friday, November 8, 2013
Glad That's Over With
Thank God that’s
over with. Ever since the rollout of ObamaCare, we have been inundated with
story after story, (including mine) of Americans being kicked off of their
health plans by the new law, this despite the President’s ironclad campaign
assurances about how if we liked our health plans, we would be able to keep
them.
The White House has struggled mightily to spin their
way out of what seemed to some a bald-faced lie. First, they denied people
were actually losing their coverage. Then they claimed that the people who were
losing coverage would find better and even cheaper coverage on the exchanges.
When that explanation turned out to be false, they blamed the insurance
companies. When that charge was debunked by none other than the Washington Post’s
fact checker, it was time for the President himself to offer an explanation. In
a speech three days ago, he told a crowd of 200 true believers that what we all
heard him say more than 30 times over the past 4 years wasn’t what he said at
all. The word IF was added to the sentence
in question, as in “IF your insurance
company made no changes to your plan after March of 2010, you could keep it.”
The trouble with that explanation was that nobody can find any tape of the
President ever uttering this new formulation. Even for our famously in-the-tank
news media, this was a bridge too far. So, the wise men surrounding the
President got together and decided to have the President do what he should have
done months ago.
There was the President sitting across from NBC
reporter Chuck Todd, a portrait of George Washington hanging forlornly over a
fireplace behind them. When asked about the nearly 5 million Americans who will
be losing coverage because of Obamacare, President Obama said, “I’m sorry.”
“I am sorry
that they are finding themselves in this situation based on assurances they got
from me.”
Well, ok then. We can all move on. There’s nothing
else to see here. The President is sorry that the empty assurances he employed
so brilliantly to get his law passed in the first place didn’t turn out to be…well,
true. But isn’t that what really matters, that he’s sorry? I mean, hey, we all
make mistakes.
I watched the entire interview. The only thing that
was missing was Oprah, and tears. The President could have greatly helped his
cause if he could have managed to tear up a bit, to demonstrate the depth of
his contrition. But Chuck Todd is no Oprah Winfrey. No tears. In fact, the
President looked like someone who would rather have been having a root canal
without Novocain, than to be forced to apologize to a lousy 5 million Americans
too stupid to know what a great deal they were getting with Obamacare.
Seriously?! 5 million people lose their health insurance? 5 million out of 250
million?? How in hell are you supposed to make an omelet without breaking a few
eggs?
But, there he was, having a difficult time
maintaining eye contact with Chuck, galled beyond human understanding to have
been put in such a humiliating position, but there he was saying those magic
words, “I’m sorry.”
Glad that’s over with.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Kids No More
This coming weekend, Pam, Kaitlin and I will make
the drive to Princeton, New Jersey. The famous Westminster Choir will be in concert
on Sunday. Kaitlin will get to see Princeton for the first time, and we all
will get to hear this phenomenal choir for the first time. There will be a
morning of sight-seeing and good food. It will be the first time that all four
of us will have been together since July. Then, two weeks later we will be
together again for Thanksgiving. Sensational!
Last night I was reading A Moveable Feast while
listening to Ella Fitzgerald on Pandora, but could concentrate on neither. All
I could think about was how it seems like just a few months ago when the four
of us were crammed into a booth at Friendly’s enjoying sundaes after a day of
Little League baseball at Tuckahoe. Pam would be consoling Kaitlin over some
tough last inning loss, while I was trying to get Patrick to stop kicking his
sister underneath the table. It was my daughter who was the intense, brutal competitor,
while my son’s favorite part of the game was wearing the cool catcher gear.
In Princeton, we will sit around a much more sophisticated
table. The conversation will be of things literary and musical. Pam and I will
glance at each other in the midst of it with astounded wonder at what we have
managed to present to the world. They, after all, will one day be our
replacements. In more ways than I can begin to articulate, they will be a vast improvement,
not because we were such great parents, but because of something both fascinating
and ethereal, the constant visitation of God’s grace in their lives. Often it
took the form of talents, endowed upon them at birth, flowered into maturity by
skilled and loving teachers. When I consider the impact that people like Larry
and Diane Collawn, Sherri Matthews, Mark and Joanne Terlep, and Jeremy Welborn
had on the two of them, it is impossible to calculate. When I think of the
incredible people in the extended family to which they are connected by blood,
I realize that some of their success is indeed hereditary. No two kids on Earth
have been endowed with such a loving and supportive tribe of uncles, aunts and
cousins. Surely such love and acceptance helped sculpt their self-image as
human beings of value and worth. Whatever it was and however it happened, Pam
and I are two lucky parents.
Yes, can’t wait for the weekend. I’ll let you know
if Patrick kicks his sister under the table for old time’s sake.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Voting "NO"
I made a mistake yesterday. After spending nearly
fifteen minutes in the voting booth trying to decide between impossibly flawed
candidates, I made the mistake of declaring on Facebook that I couldn’t bring
myself to vote for any of them. Instead, I had only voted against the Meals
Tax. This morning I read the results and it is clear that for the 1,659th
time in my life…I should have kept my mouth shut. Among other things I was
accused of inexcusable apathy. I was reminded of all those who had fought and
died to preserve my right to vote. I was told that since I had not made a
choice in the voting booth, I had lost my right to complain. I was accused of
aiding the Democratic candidates by not voting. Even my credentials as a
Christian were challenged since I didn’t vote against the Democrats since they are the only party in America
completely bereft of morals, principles, and values.
Politics is an enterprise that doesn’t respond well
to reason, so mounting a defense against these charges is in many ways a
pointless exercise, sort of like attempting to answer the question, “does this
dress make me look fat?” But, I do love
a challenge, and pointless exercises are for me, the spice of life, so here
goes.
1. INEXCUSABLE APATHY.
If I were truly apathetic, I wouldn’t have gone to the polling station in the
first place. I did, in fact, vote. If apathy is the lack of passion or
excitement, I can make a reasoned argument that this is a good thing when it comes
to politics. In our nation’s history, it has been the true believers in the
power of politics who have done the most damage to life and liberty. Woodrow
Wilson’s deranged progressives at the turn of the century provide a textbook
example of what happens when a group of people get fired up over the possibilities
of political power. I would think an intense skepticism about politics would be
a much wiser approach, given the history of partisanship.
2. People have died for my right to
vote.
No, they haven’t. The brave men and women of the United States military who
have fallen in battle did not do so to preserve my right to vote. They did so
to preserve my freedom, which includes the freedom to not vote. If you want
mandatory voting as a requirement of citizenship, move to Cuba. Besides, any
thinking person who knows anything at all about this country does not want
every citizen voting. Do you really want the 40% of Americans who can’t name
the Vice-President, and think the Supreme Court was the name of Diana Ross’
second album…voting?
3. By not voting, I lose my right to
complain. Bullshit. I am a tax-paying, fully functioning
citizen of the United States of America. The fact that I couldn’t in good
conscience pull the lever for the candidates that our cash-addled political
parties vomited up onto the ballot this year takes my right to complain away in
much the same way as refusing to eat poisoned food takes away my right to
starve to death. Again, people who say this are describing Cuba, not a free
Republic.
4. By not voting, I helped the
Democrats get elected. I, er..uh, what??
5. Even if I didn’t like the
Republican candidates, I should have voted against
the Democrat since they are immoral. Several people made
this point, bringing up the Democratic Party’s support for abortion and gay marriage
as evidence of their immorality. First of all, I agree that abortion is
immoral, and I believe that homosexuality is a sin. But to make the leap to, “democrats
have no morals” is ludicrous and insulting. One can be mistaken without being
immoral. Are these two issues the only two things that require morals,
principles and values? I can make a reasoned and intellectual argument against
the entire welfare state apparatus on the grounds that it is injurious to the
very people it claims to help. But I can concede and even admire the moral underpinnings
of my Democratic friends who support it, since it is their moral, principled, value system of caring for the poor that
undergirds it. You might even say that they believe that it is their Democratic
party that is trying to follow the commands of our savior to care for the “least
of these.” I believe them to be merely mistaken, not immoral. The assumption
that underlies the view among many Christians that Republican Party support equates to genuine
Christianity is an insidious slander. Besides, “blessed are the peace makers”
isn’t exactly a description of the Republican Party these days. What about that moral? Or how about Capital
punishment? Surely reasonable people can disagree, right? Seeing as how roughly
50% of “born again believers” end up in divorce court, does that mean that they
have no morals, since divorce is clearly contrary to scripture. You can’t
cherry-pick moral values, and any assertion that any secular political party has a monopoly on values, principles
and morals is lazy and disingenuous. Still, many of my Christian friends will
say that regardless of where a candidate stands on a thousand other issues, a Christian cannot vote
for him if he is pro-choice. Ok. So, does that mean that if a Pro-Life
candidate came along who was for Obamacare, raising taxes, and an expanding
welfare state, that Christians lose their right to complain about losing their
health plan and their higher taxes?
Politics has often been
called the ‘art of the possible.” Well, morally pure, totally principled
political parties don’t exist. You make the choice the best you can between
very flawed men and women. And every now and then, when presented candidates
for whom the bar has been lowered beyond comprehension, you do the moral, principled
thing…and vote “NO.”
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Election Day
Getting ready to go vote. I must make a choice among
a field of candidates for Governor, Lt. Governor, and Attorney General. Then I
have to approve or disapprove a proposal that would allow Henrico County to
impose a 4% “meals tax” on all prepared food, the proceeds of which would be earmarked
for schools.
Terry McAuliffe vs. Ken Cuccinelli offers up the classic
matchup between a big government carpet-bagging liberal and a dreary right wing
scold. For three months now Mr. McAuliffe has been warning me about Mr.
Cuccinelli’s plans to outlaw abortions, and deny women their birth control
pills. Seriously, that’s it. That’s all I know about Cuccinelli. He apparently
has it in for women. For the past two months and three weeks, all I heard about
Mr. McAuliffe was about how much he was planning to raise my taxes, $1746. Only
over the past week have I heard that a vote for McAuliffe would be equivalent to
a tacit approval of Obamacare. At this point, I would be willing to pay both of
these guys $1746 to shut up already! I suppose I should point out that there is also a Libertarian candidate on the ballot as well, some guy with a bi-racial family who wears sear sucker suits and goes around pointing at McAuliffe and Cuccinelli saying, "I'm not them!"
Then there’s the most worthless office ever created,
Lt. Governor, the guy who sits around for four years waiting for the governor
to die, while piling up cash for his own run for governor. This year I must
choose between some guy named E.W. Jackson and the Democrat candidate who wouldn’t
shake his hand after their last debate. The fact that I can’t recall his name
says something either about his candidacy or my poor citizenship. A quick Google
search informs me that he is one Ralph S. Northam. That’s too bad, since the
name “Ralph” doesn’t have much of a resume in modern politics. All I know about
Mr. Jackson is that every politically active member of my church is in love
with the guy, plastering my Facebook wall with testimonials to their undying
devotion to this Harvard educated, fire-breathing social conservative, who
lists as qualifications the volatile combination of preacher and lawyer. I haven’t seen a single add
for either candidate.
The Attorney General race has been a mud-slinging
tour-de-force, with Mark Obenshain and Mark Herring accusing each other of
being notorious, pathologically lying bastards. So, there’s that.
The meals tax thing has been recently pitched by its
proponents as “for the children." Whenever any political cause is presented to
me on these terms I instinctively throw up a little in my mouth. Generally, it’s
never truly about the children. It’s
usually about manipulating you into paying higher taxes so the teacher’s union
can finally have that convention in Hawaii next year. Any political movement
pimped as being for the children is almost always really about the people who
make money off the children. Sorry. No deal.
So, there you have it, Election Day in the
Commonwealth of Virginia.
Monday, November 4, 2013
My Weekend in the Mountains
What does $485 buy these days? Not as much as it did
twenty years ago, for sure, but that’s not to say it is a worthless sum. I
spent $485 this past weekend on an idea that lodged itself in my brain when I
woke up Friday morning, and wouldn’t let go. The idea was, “Get out of
Richmond.”
I started poking around on the internet, searching
for some out of the way place in the mountains where Pam and I could escape
for a couple of days. Since the leaves had begun to burst with color
practically overnight, I figured that I had little chance finding a decent
place that wasn’t already booked. I got lucky. Apparently, there is an actual
town near Lexington called Vesuvius.
With volcanic enthusiasm, I discovered a quaint and extremely isolated
destination at 2800 feet of altitude called the Sugar Tree Inn. One of its
cabins, the St. Mary, was available for one night and one night only. I clicked
the “book it now” button, then texted Pam, hoping against hope that she hadn’t
scheduled us to attend some wedding planning seminar or something. A more
intelligent approach might have been to check with her first, before plowing
ahead with such a spontaneous plan, but that’s not how I roll.
So, Saturday morning, we got up, packed an overnight
bag, had a bagel breakfast at Einstein’s, then hit the road for the two hour trip
to a corner of Virginia where neither of us had ever been. It was a gloriously
beautiful fall day, almost perfect with its bright blue sky and cool 60 degree
breezes. By the time we hit Charlottesville, we were both starting to relax.
Usually when Pam and I go somewhere like this we spend most of our time talking
about our kids, but on this day we had launched into a full throated discussion
of the myriad twists and turns of Breaking Bad. It was as if we had forgotten
that we were married!
Most of the trip was on familiar roads, interstates
64 and 81. When we departed 81, everything changed. For me, there is
something wonderful and exciting about driving down a road never
before travelled. I suppose I get this from my Mother, that famous lover of those far away places with strange sounding
names. Vesuvius, Virginia qualifies. It’s kind of like finding a town just
outside of Paris named Bubbaville.
The further we drove the narrower and more precarious
the roads became. Then we began a steady climb, further and further away from
anything that looked at all familiar. Oddly, every home, every barn we passed
along the way was meticulously maintained, each yard, neatly trimmed and free of
junk. Each blind curve we went around revealed some new breathtaking vista, and
with each new curve, Pam began to become more and more agitated. “What’s
happening to the road? It’s too narrow! Where are the guardrails??”
Vesuvius ended up being a tiny hamlet containing a
post office and an antique store dissected by a set of railroad tracks.
According to my GPS, the Sugar Tree Inn was 5 miles straight up an extremely
narrow road ahead of me where a sign greeted all those entering with this
unsettling warning, “GPS navigation not recommended.” The rest of the drive was
nothing short of awesome…for me, for Pam, not so much. 5 miles and several near
death experiences later, we arrived at the Sugar Tree Inn sign and pulled off
the State road onto the Inn driveway, a mile long, white knuckled thrill ride
full of switch backs and hairpin turns. It was the kind of road you drive down
while wondering if anyone making this drive had ever returned, and wondering
what in the name of all that is holy you’re going to do if you meet someone
coming the other way??
Finally, at the top of the last blind hill we
arrived at the lodge. We climbed the staircase out front and turned around,
marveling at the treacherous climb we had just survived. The view back down the
valley was nothing short of stunning. How exactly we were going to coax our
exhausted and traumatized car down this mountain would be left for another
time. The Inn owners couldn’t have been nicer, as they reassured us that the
driveway is actually ten feet wide. “We’ve measured it! Oh, and don’t worry, in
the eleven years we’ve been here, we’ve only met another car coming the other
way 3 times!” No explanation of what ever became of the unlucky three was offered.
Saturday afternoon was spent making the 1.7 mile
hike up to nearby Crabtree Falls. Spectacular views and clean fresh air made
for a wonderful climb. On the way back we discovered an incredible general store
in the tiny town of Montebello. Pam would end up getting an unexpected jump on
her Christmas shopping snatching up the mountain cabin motif regalia.
By the time dinner was served in the main lodge, we
were both starving but unsure what to expect from such a remote kitchen manned
by people who had only run into three other incoming cars over the past eleven
years! Once again, we learned for the hundredth time not to judge a book by its
cover. Pam’s beef short ribs were delicious and my braised pork tenderloin
medallions yielded to my fork like a mound of rice, tender and juicy beyond description.
Our cabin was beautiful and new, hanging
precariously out into the forest, a deep gorge just outside our back deck.
Inside was a king size bed, two of the most comfortable chairs I have ever sat
in, a gas fireplace and a TV that only worked with DVDs and VHS tapes, which
were free in the lodge. It would have been asking a lot for a place this
remote to have cable and internet. I felt fortunate to have electricity! We
snuggled together after dinner and did something we hadn’t done in at least
fifteen years… we slid a VHS tape in the oversized slot on the front of our 18
inch TV set and watched a jumpy, scratchy version of Bull Durham.
Sunday morning’s breakfast was sensational. We settled
up our bill around eleven and then survived the free fall descent down the
mountain to the relative safety of Vesuvius. By the time I filled the car with
gas after a walking tour of VMI and Washington & Lee, the entire weekend’s
bill came in at $485.
What a deal!
Saturday, November 2, 2013
A Plea For Help
Dear Reader,
I need your help. It has come to my attention that I
may be the beneficiary of a mistake by my health insurance company. This
mistake will result in me maybe being able to keep my current health insurance,
which Shakespeare might describe as a “consummation devoutly to be wished.” The
problem lies in the fact that my insurance company insists that my current plan
is “grandfathered”, even though I can think of three things that have occurred since
March 23, 2010 that should have “un-grandfathered” it. What to do?
My wife suggested that I call my insurance company,
describe these three events to them hypothetically (without giving them my name),
and ask them if my hypothetical policy is still grandfathered. This seems like
a reasonable approach. Except, I don’t want to run the risk of blowing up this
incredibly sweet deal I have stumbled upon! “Let sleeping dogs lie” is the way
my mother used to describe situations like this.
On the other hand, my last two blogs about the
follies of Obamacare have been widely read. In them I took several perhaps
gratuitous shots at the Affordable Care Act. Maybe there’s some welfare state
loving, progressive, yes-we-can true believer at the NSA snooping around this blog
who would love nothing more than to place a “head’s up” call to Anthem
suggesting that they pay extra attention to one Douglas Dunnevant’s case file.
So, dear reader, if you have been reading this blog
for very long, you have at least some idea of what kind of person I am. I would
appreciate any suggestions you might have as to how I should proceed. What’s
the right thing to do here? Blow the whistle on the illegitimate grandfathering
of my policy, and take my Obamacare medicine, or accept this magnificent bureaucratic
windfall and wiggle off the hook?
I suppose if I escape Obamacare, the higher premiums
I would have paid won’t be available to provide the subsidy for someone else’s
insurance. Does that make me a bad person? On the other hand the 600 and some
odd dollars I will be saving every month can be spent buying steaks, bread and
Yankee candles, which will benefit the butcher, the baker and the candle stick
maker. Yes, this is a fine mess I find myself in. This is the mother of all
conundrums.
Please respond either in the comment section below,
or on Facebook. I eagerly await your wise and discerning suggestions.
Sincerely,
Doug
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