Ralph Northern’s Gun Ban

My opinion of Ralph Northern is well known to readers of this blog. I consider old blackface an embarrassment to the Commonwealth, a virtue signaling moron and a pandering idiot. But right now he is getting ripped for doing the right thing by people who should know better.

Yesterday, the Governor declared that guns would be banned on the grounds of the State Capital for the duration of a planned gun rights rally to be held there next Monday. The ban will be lifted the following day. He has declared a state of emergency for the day of the rally. He claims that the State Police have received credible threats of violence for the upcoming event which prompted the move. Gun rights advocates have been hyperventilating on social media ever since declaring this the beginning of the end for America. Time out.

Two years ago, a similar gathering of citizens in Charlottesville ended in death and violence. The city government was ravaged for its lack of planning and foresight. Now, with that horrible memory no doubt on his mind, he seems concerned with avoiding another Charlottesville. Accordingly, he has not only moved to ban guns but also anything else that could serve as a weapon like baseball bats, sticks, shields and clubs. Social media has become inundated with far right militia groups vowing to attend (many from out of state). The governor is not canceling the rally, but he is trying to remove the potential for violence. If he does possess credible threats of violence and does nothing to try to stop it, these same people ripping him for the ban would crucify him for inaction. In light of the current raised level of passion and intensity in our politics, it seems to me to be a justified precaution, a prudent preemptive action to protect the safety of all the protesters. It’s a 24 hour ban on weapons on the grounds of the State Capital during a gun rights rally in 2020, but to hear the gun rights crowd tell it, Ralph Northern is the new Joe Stalin, preparing his shock troops for door to door confiscation. Listen, just because our Governor is a dork doesn’t mean that every single thing he does is an assault on liberty.

I am not naive. I fully understand where the Governor stands on gun rights. He and his Party are in favor of restrictions on the second amendment that I don’t believe are constitutional. But that’s not what this is. This is a Governor being cautious about a pending rally that might be attended by members of militia groups with reputations for violence. Now, he claims to be in possession of evidence of credible threats of such violence. What if he is lying? Suppose his “evidence” is bogus and he is merely using it as an excuse to curb the rights of citizens, even if it is for only 24 hours? That would be different. But I haven’t arrived yet at the place where I must ascribe nefarious motives to every move a politician who I don’t particularly care for makes. I assume that if he says the State Police has credible threats...they have credible threats. In which case he is doing what any Governor would and should do.

Even old Blackface, like a broken clock, can be right at least twice a day.

Spinning Plates and Juggling Chainsaws

Today is January the 15th, two weeks into the new year and I’m already feeling overwhelmed. A little like this guy...

...minus the tattoos. 

Multi-tasking is the thing. Everyone of us is asked to multi-task all the time. The ability to do more than one thing at a time, competently, is a basic requirement of adult life. It’s nothing new, this multi-tasking thing. My mother called it “having a lot of irons in the fire.” Of course, women have been multi-tasking since the dawn of time. They can make lunches for three kids, cook breakfast, make a grocery list, lay out clothes for everyone, drink coffee, line up a car pool, put on mascara, and finish up a lesson plan for 30 first graders all before 7:30 in the morning. Men can multi-task too, but we tend to complain about it more...like this blog writer.

Here’s the thing, I have always had multiple plates spinning simultaneously in my head. Kinda like this guy...

I could be working up a proposal for a client, setting appointments, paying bills, arguing with a colleague, and reading the box scores all at the same time without missing a beat. I can still do all these things. But when I do them all at the same time, more often than not, the proposal for my client features a spirited discussion of why it is that my stupid colleague thinks that the National’s starting pitcher shouldn’t have been yanked from last night’s game after only 116 pitches and oh by the way, my cable bill is past due. These days I am forced to spend money on expensive apps that help me remember stuff. Although they are worth every penny, they aren’t foolproof. Just the other day I noticed on my phone log that a client had called 24 hours ago. There wasn’t a red check mark beside her name indicating that I had returned her call. I pride myself in always returning client calls same day, so I briefly panicked. Did I return her call? I honestly couldn’t remember! I had no choice but to call her and make sure:

Me: Hello Peggy. Listen, I hate to do this but...did I call you back yesterday?

Peggy: (cackling laughter) Doug! What? Do you have Alzheimer’s?? Of course you did! You answered my question and I took your advice.

Me: (nervous laughter) ...ha...well that’s a relief!

Then it all came back to me. I remembered the call and the conversation. All is well.

Yesterday afternoon within a matter of ten minutes, I answered three telephone calls from clients asking three different questions about three totally different things, all of which required an answer within the next hour. After hanging up the phone my cell buzzed at me with an urgent email from my accountant reminding me that I had to file a form I had never previously been required to file before the end of the week. Then I received a text from a friend with disturbing medical news concerning a mutual friend. Then a report from another friend about a doctor’s appointment gone bad. Then my phone buzzed: “Doug, your 2:00 appointment is here.” No, I hadn’t forgotten that I had a 2:00 appointment, but how in God’s name could it possibly be 2:00 already??!! I quickly tidied up, sat the client’s file on my desk and confidently strolled out to the lobby, the very picture of professional calm. Inside I’m thinking...How many days until Maine?

Three Weeks Until Iowa...handicapping the field!

Yesterday’s stunning news that Cory Booker, aka Spartacus, has exited the Presidential race means that the Democratic Party will not be nominating a person of color as their candidate in 2020. Now the choice seems to have boiled down to one woman and four men, three of whom qualify as members of the single most despised demographic in the hierarchy of identity politics that is the modern Democratic Party—old white men. With just three weeks left until the Iowa caucuses, what follows is my attempt to handicap the field. Admittedly, this is like an anthropological experiment, akin to a westerner observing a tribe of pygmies in their natural habitat in the Amazon. All of these people seem alien to my experiences and beliefs about how the world works and there is only one of them who I would want to have a beer with, more on that later, but nonetheless here goes:

Elizabeth Warren

At one point not very long ago she was the odds on favorite. She is an accomplished and committed leftist who in a pinch could check the minority box with her Native American roots. She seems sufficiently angry enough to appeal to the dominant progressive base which prizes righteous indignation at the moment. But something has stalled in her campaign. The money isn’t coming in like it was. Her standing in the polls has slipped. I honestly have no idea why. But she is still a formidable candidate. I wouldn’t write her off. Chances of winning the nomination? 5-1

Bernie Sanders

Very old. Very white. Very angry. Very formidable. He’s proudly Socialist at a time when that is considered an asset, not a liability in the Democratic Party. He’s the guy who worries the establishment wing of the Party. It is rumored that he is the candidate that Trump most wants to run against. He has the juice right now. His crowds are teeming with the young and the restless. He’s got his 5 million donors. He’s promising free everything and no more wars and seems sincere on both counts. He also is fresh off a heart scare. Chances of winning the nomination? 6-1

Joe Biden

Very old. Very white. Big, toothy smile. A little slow on the uptick. Reminds everyone in America of their favorite Uncle. He seems all wrong for the moment at which his Party and the country has arrived. But his name recognition and his association with Obama is a powerful formula, especially with black voters, no small contingency in the Democratic Party. His chances at winning the nomination? 4-1

Pete Buttigieg 

Young smart and even tempered, this midwestern small town mayor who, thanks to his sexual orientation appeals to the deep pockets in Hollywood, is the candidate who won’t go away for the Democrats. He has that one ingredient that all the other candidates lack and envy...authenticity. This guy is bright, thoughtful, pleasant, and served his country in the military. In case you’re wondering, he’s the only one in the field who I wouldn’t mind having a beer with, getting to know. I would hear this guy out. He has the maturity and level-headedness that Americans want in a President. Chances that the Democratic Party will roll the dice on a gay mayor? 20-1

Michael Bloomberg

The latest billionaire attempting to spend his way into the White House. His record setting media buy has launched this particular vanity project into the first tier of candidates. But he’s also a little long in the tooth and his New York City resume isn’t likely to attract very many heartlanders. But, he’s a fast talking politician with money to back up his mouth. This is 2020 and anything can happen, I suppose. Chances at him being successful buying the nomination? 10-1

Yes, I know...there are other candidates still in the race. But none of them are worth mentioning because none of them have a chance. 

My Friend’s Medical Bills

Talk about your boring blog topics—it doesn’t get worse than—health insurance. But the subject came up this morning with my friend. I will do my best to make this interesting. I will do so with plenty of sarcasm and wisecracks, no doubt, but don’t confuse that with flippancy. This is a deadly serious topic for my friend.

Thankfully, she has great insurance. She is covered under her husband’s generous plan through his employer. So far, her cancer ordeal has cost her only the total of her maximum out of pocket limit which is absurdly low! Her plan runs from June to June, so at the end of May she will be on the hook for another out of pocket limit. But again, it is a small and very manageable number. Everything else will be paid by her insurance company, permanently taking her off their Christmas card list.

So far, she has been battling this nightmare for just over five months. There have been tons of doctor’s visits, six chemo treatments and a seemingly endless parade of medications to help her deal with its effects. But, there hasn’t been any surgery or extended hospitalizations. When she told me the total price tag so far I was mortified. $600,000...and she hasn’t even had surgery yet! Just imagine how much an eight hour surgical procedure will run, not to mention the six additional weeks of radiation. Worst case scenario would include an additional year of chemo. My mathematical skills aren’t what you would call elite, but just some entry level extrapolation makes it clear that this thing might end up costing over two million dollars. Let me write that out for you. $2,000,000. That’s ten Lamborghini’s. That’s three lake houses in Maine. With two million dollars you could buy enough sausage to feed everyone in Pittsburgh for a year. While it’s certainly true that you can’t place a monetary value on a human life, two million clams is still a lot of money.

Is it worth it? What kind of utilitarian nonsense question is that? Of course it’s worth it. But, suppose my friend didn’t have health insurance? Or suppose she had accidentally let it lapse because she forgot to pay the premium? Suppose her husband’s employer decided to stop providing subsidized insurance to their employees?  Suppose he got laid off and couldn’t afford the Cobra premiums? Thankfully, none of these things happened and my friend is mercifully shielded from the financial death that enduring this would surely bring without health insurance. But what about those not so fortunate?

I would imagine that the only thing worse than going through a life and death cancer war would be going through a life and death cancer war...without health insurance. 

As most of you know, I have had a life long aversion to and suspicion of powerful, centralized government. Second only to my aversion and suspicion of big government has been my aversion to and suspicion of big business. In this country there is no business bigger than health insurance. So I am in a classic bind on the subject of government run health insurance. Should we leave the frying pan of profit driven big business-run care for the fire of government bureaucrat-run care? Should we trade in the bean counting accountants at Anthem for the paper pushing apparatchiks at the Department of Health and Human Services? Would you rather have to deal with the soulless money grubbers at the insurance company or DMV style morons? It is a vexing questions with no good answers. But when I hear of $600,000 chemo bills I start to wonder...is it even possible for government run health care to be any worse? At least with the government nobody would have to declare bankruptcy after getting a cancer diagnosis. The country might go bankrupt...but we could cross that bridge when we get to it.

One more thing. I just got my Anthem bill in the mail. I got my annual rate increase. It wasn’t horrible...only went up 7%. So starting next month i will be paying $1458 a month for a $3500 deductible plan for the two of us. Add to that the $400 a month I will deposit in my Health Savings Account to cover that deductible and you’re talking over $22,000 of my income after taxes goes to insure that I won’t be bankrupted by an unexpected diagnosis.

Something is extraordinarily screwed up about that. Don’t you think?

Good Luck, Kids

Ordinarily, I would say that there isn’t anything in the universe that I care less about than the British Royal Family. I fully understand that this view places me in the minority in my country, not to mention my own family. Around here any royal wedding is must see TV. My sister is a lifelong Anglophile. I like England well enough but my view essentially has always been...You guys are fine, but your monarchy is silly and pretentious and...oh yeah...we kicked your ass 240 years ago to prove it.

But this week comes news that these kids have had enough and are actually trying to quit the royal family!

Apparently they are sick and tired of living in the bubble of British tabloid scrutiny. I guess they’ve had it up to here with ribbon cutting photo opps and the most overbearing and powerful mother in law in the history of civilization. No doubt, the Queen is royally pissed. My first reaction to this news was...Wow. Good for them! It takes some guts to give the finger to the House of Windsor. But, it was inevitable really. There was no way an American girl was going to put up that foolishness for long. The red-haired guy should have known that from the get go. I mean, just look at her...can you imagine her walking around a castle wearing white gloves and stupid hats all day?

First reports were of a planned move to Canada. Perfect. Then word came that Harry was looking for work now that their royal allowance was getting cut off. Another good idea. But then the news turned troubling. It was learned that they might be headed to Hollywood. No, no no no. You don’t exchange one out of touch, entitled fantasy world for another! Then even worse news...the ex-royal couple were being advised by that noted down to earth everywoman...Oprah. Frying pan? Meet fire.

It remains to be seen how this all plays out. I hope they are able to create a better life for themselves. I really do. But when Vegas posts odds on how long their marriage lasts post royal family, over or under five years....I’m taking the under.

My New Normal

Agenda Items For Today, January 8, 2020...

1. Attend to swollen and puffy eye with Benadryl and cold compress

2. Stand in freezing cold on my deck in my pajamas while waiting for neurotic dog to relieve herself

3. Try to comprehend vagaries of the human experience that cause the S&P futures to go from down 400 to up 60 literally overnight.

4. Make an appearance at Bennett Funeral Home to show respect for long time friend’s deceased mother.

5. Drop by hospital to visit long time friend who just underwent quadruple bypass operation.

6. Design new investment strategy for dear client who has been informed that he only has two years to live due to incurable bone cancer.

7. Meet with two clients for annual reviews.

8. Submit complicated and corrected paperwork to change ownership and beneficiaries of the vast holdings of client who passed away late last year, including Power of Attorney documentation since surviving spouse is incapacitated with Alzheimer’s.

9. Go to gym for workout to fight suddenly ballooning weight.

....Welcome to life in your sixties.

Friend Update

My courageous friend is finally finished her three months of chemo. From my perspective it has been like watching a horror film, one grisly scene a day, a Chinese water torture of agony. But each day she answers the bell with an optimism and gratitude that at times borders on the miraculous. Sometimes I want her to just scream and cry and lash out at the unfairness of it all. That’s what I would do after the third of fourth trip to the bathroom, three days after my first treatment. But not my friend. After three excruciatingly difficult months of this poison she still throws around words like thankful and grateful. Instead of bitterness and anger, she speaks of counting her blessings.

This is not to suggest that she hasn’t had her moments of despair. How could she not? But they have been rare, quickly overcome with a dignified determination to overcome. “I’m sorry, but this morning I feel like a whiny baby,” she offers by way of explanation for her rare lapses into anger, actually apologizing to me for her ill temper. I just shake my head in amazement.

Next up is surgery at the end of the month. Further treatment plans will be dependent upon the results of that surgery. In the meantime, the chemo is over with, a major hurdle endured and overcome.

As we enter the fourth month of our daily morning conversations, my inventory of dad jokes has been throughly depleted. I have been scraping the bottom of the barrel of late with some truly pathetic stuff, like these beauties:

My friend Jack claims he can communicate with vegetables.

Jack and the beans talk...

What do you call a sheep who has been dipped in chocolate?

A Hershey baaaaaaaa.

Did you hear that over a thousand dollars worth of Viagra was stollen from the CVS yesterday?

The police are looking for hardened criminals.

The fact that she still laughs has me worried that the chemo may have warped her sense of humor. Either the chemo or continuous exposure to my material. Regardless, yet more collateral damage!

So, if you are reading this, say a prayer for my friend today. And if you are cancer free, add a prayer of thanks.