Get me off-a this Bus!

Early this morning as I was scrolling through my Facebook® status feeds I came across a link to a clever animated video that sought to explain the need for a government plan to cover the gap in health care coverage in this country. I thought about this for a long time because, in my opinion, the rationale behind some of the arguments in favor of a government plan is fundamentally flawed. The basic argument, as best I could discern, is that since we trust the government to provide a whole array of other “essential services” (like education, police protection, clean water, etc.) what makes the essential service of health care any different?

Contemplating this argument for most of the morning caused me to devise an analogy to help explain at least one perspective of the health care debate/argument. Consider transportation. Some might not consider transportation to be a fundamental human right but bear with me while I expand on this. If we were to agree that transportation is a fundamental human right then we must somehow account for how we can guarantee that right to everyone. I think this is accomplished in three broadly defined ways: by the private individual, by individuals acting jointly, by the government.

A private individual, let’s call him Bob, may purchase or lease a vehicle with his own money and, as long as he stays legal he is free to drive pretty much wherever he pleases. The private option can be expensive, depending on the desires and resources of the individual but Bob is not forced to own or lease a car and he is free to give it up whenever he so chooses. The costs of participating in this option are borne entirely by Bob, the owner of the car. But let’s say Bob wants to travel from New York to LA and he wants to be there by tomorrow. Knowing that he can’t possibly drive that distance in less than a day Bob chooses to…

…cooperate with other individuals who also want to travel cross-country. By joining with fellow travelers, Bob can, in effect, rent a seat on a commercial airplane that will take him and others like him, to their destination. By agreeing to voluntarily combine resources, they split the costs among them, thereby making affordable to a group what would be prohibitively expensive to do alone. But let’s say Bob can’t afford a car or an airplane ticket but still needs to travel. There is a third way…

…the government option. Say Bob doesn’t earn enough to make payments, even on a “beater”. Perhaps he’s unemployed or disabled; he still needs to travel but there’s no way he can afford a plane ticket. The government option may very well send a bus by Bob’s place so he can catch a ride to wherever it is he needs to go. Individuals with sufficient incomes, understanding there are good folks like Bob out there who need help with getting around, contribute (through taxation) to the purchase and operation of a bus service. Bob has to pay a fee of course, but it’s not nearly enough to cover the actual costs of the service. The taxpayers in general don’t mind paying for the bus service because they do understand that Bob and others deserve to have some access to transportation.

Are you with me so far? (“Are you getting’ this camera guy?”) Seems a pretty reasonable summation wouldn’t you say? Well, if we continue with the transportation analogy you will soon see where we start running into trouble with the government option.

Let’s say the government option includes not only public bus service but all services that would be required to achieve a “standard” for transportation. Unable to deny that car and plane travel are standard services the government would have to expand the existing and legitimate bus service to include automobile and air travel services as well. Subsidizing the costs of operating this expansion in services would require huge outlays of revenue (in the form of taxes paid by those who have little need for the government transportation option.) As the government transportation system becomes larger and more expensive, Bob may decide that it would just be cheaper for him to use the government system instead of driving his own car or flying aboard a commercial aircraft.

Now let’s imagine that Bob and millions of his fellow travelers decide that they will do ALL their traveling on the government-run transportation system and abandon private and commercial transportation altogether. Bob can still move around, but not as fast as he would like and he can only travel on the schedule that the bus company devises, not on his needs. Sometimes there are not enough seats on the bus and so Bob has to wait for the next bus – or the next one – or the one after that. The government assures him that there is a seat for everyone but that priority seating goes to those who can adequately demonstrate their need. Bob can wait for a seat but it may be that when his bus finally arrives, he no longer needs to travel.

Meanwhile, the commercial airlines and the car makers that used to provide the convenient, fast and efficient travel for Bob and his friends can no longer do so. They cannot compete against a transportation system that is so heavily subsidized by the taxpayers. Gone is the incentive to innovate, to invent ways to make travel faster, safer, and cheaper. Instead, everyone in the land rides the government bus….they don’t want to – but they have to. And since there is only one bus company there is little need to improve the quality of the system. A bus is a bus is a bus.

But that can’t be the end of the analogy? Just like the animated video in favor of the government option, it can’t be that simple can it? No, it can’t. But the analogy is illustrative of one the fears that honest, intelligent Americans have about the government option in health care. Is it ridiculous to think that, despite the best intentions of policy makers and bureaucrats, we could still find ourselves on an over-crowded, chronically underperforming and EXPENSIVE health-care bus?

P.S. – We DO need the “bus system”. Coming away from the analogy now, we already have a public health care option, called Medicare/Medicaid. Is it perfect? Not by a long shot. But it can and should be expanded and improved.

Bone, Thugs & Middle School

Another Tale from the "Sub" Vault

As I sat scribbling out my usual “sub notes” for the teacher for whom I was substituting, I struggled to explain a peculiar yet telling episode I had with a couple of her students. Earlier that day, Xavier (not his real name of course – when is it ever?) showed me with embarrassed pride the red bandana he had carefully folded into a perfect square and buried deep in the front pocket of his slung way-too-low trousers. Johnny explained how he and classmate Calvin (you guessed it, not his real name either), who carried a blue bandana in the same manner, carried said bandanas as a symbol of their solidarity, if not outright affiliation, with well-known L.A. gangs.

Well, at least they were being honest – right? To self-identify as “gangstas” seems brash, even a little foolish; but coming from the mouths of otherwise bright, well-adjusted 12-year old middle-schoolers the words sounded more like declarations of confidence and self-assurance than thuggish bragging. I didn’t think their statements all that outlandish for 12-year old boys, who, after all, seek merely to discover who they are and how they fit in.

So was I overly troubled by this revelation of nascent gang behavior in an otherwise benign middle school environment? Well, not really. I did not consider for even a moment to take them at their word that they were gang members. Jaundiced as it might be, my compartmented world-view does not have room for seventh grade gang bangers, especially the sort that may be prowling the scrubbed, white-bread halls of suburban Columbia County, Georgia. Even less so since, with one boy sporting the blue “Crips” bandana and the other flashing the red bandana of the rival “Bloods”, they seemed surprisingly chummy for the blood-oath, sworn-to-the-death rivals their gang signs advertised them to be.

The bandana seems an oddly appropriate choice for gangbangers to carry as their “sign”. Bandanas have a long association with dangerous characters and their nefarious dealings. The bandana is a frequent accessory to the popular image of tough guys ranging from biker thugs and pirates to bank-robbers and gunslingers of the Old West. Commonplace in the imagination are the “black hat” cowboys sporting their sweaty bandanas about their necks as they snarl at the preachy do-gooders and pale, timid city folk (or for that matter, the revenuers, as in the case of “Outlaw” country groaner Willie Nelson). Rarely, if ever, is the bandana put to use in its original and now quaint purpose; as a handkerchief. Imagine a seventh grade boy blowing his nose in a “hanky”!

Still, I had to dismiss the feigned villainy of these boys and their bandana-flagged gang affiliation as a sincere attempt to look “bad” while not actually being bad. I wanted to think they were more anxious to be seen (and therefore, see themselves) as “dangerous” in a way that authenticates their individuality and boosts their self-image. I did the same as a kid growing up in small-town Kansas in the 70’s, “experimenting” with cigarettes or sharing a freshly-swiped can of luke-warm beer with one of my friends. Recalling the relative innocence of those days, I was not the least bit concerned these kids were serious gang members or posed any threat to themselves or others, and that’s what I wrote in my note to the teacher.

Several weeks later and I found myself reading a brief article in the morning paper about the arrest of a local middle school teen. He was booked and facing criminal prosecution for threatening violence, carrying a concealed weapon on school property and participating in gang-related activity on school grounds. Among the items discovered by the police officer who frisked the boy were a switchblade knife - and a bandana. The article didn’t mention the color of the bandana or the name of the school. I wonder if I should write a second note to the teacher.

Where John Weighs in on the Health Care "Debate"

So the way I see this whole health care debate is this: it is not a debate about health care as much as it is a contest of power and political wills. Unfortunately in this country there is little margin left for enlightened discourse. We go straight to shouting matches and frankly, left or right doesn't matter because no one on the right will ever say "Oh yeah, hey you got a good point there and I think I agree with you." and no one on the left is ever going to just stop and say "Wow, good point, I hadn't thought of it like that." Nope, we just want to hack away at each others trunks until the whole forest is leveled.

There is a legitimate debate taking place in the background on the nature of this republic. What is the proper role of government? Conservatives tend to favor a minimalist role and place a great deal of trust in the tenets of political economy, that is, most necessary services can be provided at lower cost and with higher quality when left to the free market. The market provides financial incentives for innovation, entrepreneurship, and, well, plain old hard work. The results (as witnessed by our own history growing from a sleepy colonial backwater to the world’s foremost industrial and financial powerhouse over the course of two centuries) are indisputably favorable. The role of the government then is to intervene when that is an unfair, “failed” market. The prospect of failed markets led to the creation of the SEC, for example, to guard against any one corporation “cornering the market” and achieving an unfair advantage in the marketplace. The global calamity brought on by bank failures in the ‘20s led to the creation of the FDIC, among other regulatory agencies, to hedge against future collapse.

The liberal might tend to see a larger, more interventionist role for government. Regarding market economics, the liberal might understand the "market" to be more than just created goods but might also include what are traditionally thought of as intangibles (like health care, affordable housing or equal opportunity). Medicare and EEOC are two examples of government agencies/programs that were originally created with this broader view of the proper role of government.

An interesting article I read this morning mentions the invisible role of the "free rider" in the formulation of policy positions, especially of those on the right. The "free rider" is the supposed beneficiary of a government project/program who enjoys the fruits of the labor of others without a proportional contribution. The author points out that in some aspects, like providing for the national defense, there are no "free riders" per se; we all benefit equally from national defense. In other areas, like international trade law and consumer protection, there is some private financial interest at stake, winners and losers if you will, but for the most part most everyone generally agrees on the benefits of the programs. Still other programs, especially those associated more closely with the political left, like welfare and universal health care coverage, are rife with perceived "free riders". I'm not saying they are, I am talking only about the perception. The spectra of the "free riders" was a major factor in the reduction and elimination of most welfare programs back in the late '90s when President Clinton and a Republican led Congress agreed to a massive overhaul of the system.

Here’s an interesting matter for contemplation: there are aspects of universal health care coverage that, like the defense department, carry few “free riders”. Take health and wellness education for example. Who could argue that a national program that definitely improves the health and wellness of ALL Americans could somehow be a bad thing? I throw that in there as a good food for thought exercise.

So let’s wrap this up so I can post it to the blog…. Unless and until persons of even temperament, reasonable intellect, and curiosity to learn more (from some source other than TV and blogs) can discuss public policy, I am not at all encouraged that anything useful will ever come of the health care debate. My take is that the people most at fault for screwing up this whole discussion and turning it into the mess it is our elected representatives, and to a more limited extent, the President.

My studies lead me to believe that the most reasonable and effective way to address a lot of our problems in this country is to de-politicize them by putting them into the hands of trained, professional bureaucrats. Seriously! You heard me right friends. Public management professionals at every level of government are specifically trained to SOLVE PROBLEMS...and with surprising elegance and consistency. And just what is their secret? They don’t try to solve the country’s problems overnight or in “one fell swoop”. They use a tried and true incremental approach that respects precedent and moves with caution in policy “baby steps”. That's right, the radical bureaucratic approach is this: identify a problem, consider a range of policy options, select an option, implement the option, observe and evaluate the result, and then either tweak the change, cement the change, or heave it out and go back to your options again. It’s that simple!

I'll take your comments off the air!

The Ballad of James and Henry

O come my dear fellows, come hear the odd story
Of brave Sergeant Crowley and Professor Gates.
But who was the hunter and who was the quarry?
In this intriguing tale of their entwining fates.

Mr. Gates and a friend back from an overseas trip,
Weary no doubt from their long Trans-Atlantic,
Forced open the door with a bump of the hip
And were spied by a neighbor, alert though not frantic.

Her 911 call, now famously viral,
Had duly reported the facts of the case
And so, recorded for all, fed the media spiral
No concern about safety - it’s now about race.

“The intruders,” urged the dispatch “…black? white? Hispanic?”
“Hispanic…I think. Well, perhaps – I’m not sure.”
His voice reassuring, so as not to stoke panic
“A squad car’s responding…your street is secure.”

That poor woman’s words, now famously spoken
Alas, irreproachable, to the media’s vexation
Calmly delivered, clear and unbroken
Put the lie to Gates’ hasty racist summation

Did the dispatcher exercise racial profiling?
The Prof made that claim with the cops at his stoop
The Zip-ties, though, on his wrists were revealing
Perhaps the press, and the Prez, didn’t have the full scoop

So did our blue hero exercise diligent care,
Arresting the Professor for his black (though light) hue?
His rep on the force is he’s firm but he’s fair
Why then, pray tell, all this hullabaloo?

Then came Wednesday night, nation-wide on TV
The leader of the free world came on to opine
That the officers were at fault, it’s plain to see
“That cane-wielding professor is a good friend of mine!”

Borrowing a page from Rev. Wright’s book of lucidity
Scouring the city for someone to blame
Our fair President, moving with surprising rapidity
Fell into that tired old race-baiting game

Caught up in a moment of rhetorical cupidity
Looked up from his pulpit to shoot from the hip
Likened Crowley’s deeds to acts of stupidity
Shame on the guy for those words he let slip

“A teaching moment” the Prez now claims, with a wink
He obscured his comments but to the cops…a Bronx cheer!
Who’d have thought he could pull us back from the brink
With a nod and a wink and a cold mug of beer!

(Published July 29, 2009 by John Peery, all rights reserved)

Don Johnson is Christ! (A true story)

Don Johnson will tell you that he’s a terrifically skilled bricklayer and mason. He’s not bragging, mind you, he just wants you to know that as a skilled, in-demand laborer he is quite capable of earning a decent wage, paying his bills and living a life of respect. We’re standing on a brick sidewalk not far from a memorial “to our Confederate dead”, almost smack-dab between the fine Victorian mansions of the North Hill District and the soup kitchen where Don takes most of his meals.

Don tells me how fortunate he was that on the night he was jumped by two young thugs, robbed, beaten and abandoned, he was in the parking lot of the hospital that was to treat him. In town on a temporary bricklaying job, Don had only a small bag of clothes and toiletries, an old plastic paint bucket of tools, and a cell phone. He was robbed of all save the worn jeans and ragged T-shirt he was wearing as he told his story. Barely conscious, bleeding from a number of cuts on his swollen face, and mumbling incoherently through a jaw broken in two places, Don managed to drag himself to the hospital emergency room.

“After about a week they told me I could go home,” Don continued, “but I asked them ‘What about my jaw? Aren’t you going to wire my jaw?’” But his jaw was not to be wired. The thieves who robbed Don of his livelihood also robbed him of his wire-cutting pliers. “You have to have wire-cutters with you at all times when your jaw is wired,” Don explained matter-of-factly, “’cause if there’s an emergency you have to be able to cut the wire.”

The grandson of a prominent Southern lawyer and judge, Don Johnson will tell you the story of how when he was a boy he would go to visit his grandfather at the courthouse. The boy was impressed by the larger-than-life portrait of his grandfather hanging on the wall in the courtroom. He would sit with his grandfather the lawyer and judge and listen to stories of true crime and justice. The judge would ask the boy, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” “I want to be a lawyer just like you, Grandpa,” Don told him. But the judge cautioned the crestfallen boy away from the law. “I don’t want you to ever have to lie to earn your living” he told him.

“So that’s how I ended up as a bricklayer,” Don went on with his story, “’cause you work with your hands; you never have to talk to no one…you never have to lie.”

Don Johnson made a point of assuring me that he wasn’t THAT Don Johnson. I’m sure he meant the actor Don Johnson but I didn’t need much convincing to understand that the weathered, tired, sweaty man before me was not the same pastel day- glow Don Johnson of “Miami Vice” fame. He did offer to show me his ID, I’m supposing a driver’s license, but I took him at his word.

Together with his clothes and tools, Don also lost his cell phone. Stored in the phone were the numbers of the man for whom he had been working, now hopelessly out of touch, and Don’s brother in Tampa. Don doesn’t remember his brother’s number off the top of his head and for some reason he is unable to find him through directory assistance. A nice lady at the mission gave Don a sheet of notebook paper, a pen, and a stamped envelope so that he could write home to his brother.

Did he write the letter? I don’t know and I don’t ask; I don’t even think to ask. I’m thinking that at any moment in the Don Johnson saga I am going to be asked for money. I am just out for a morning walk with the baby in the stroller and the dog on a leash and minding my own business when Don Johnson stepped into my life. The whole time I am listening to his story I am scheming ways to get away from this homeless guy and get on with my walk. He’s a little bit scary and dirty and sweaty and he smells like booze even though he doesn’t seem to be drunk.

“I just want to shake your hand, sir” Don Johnson says to me as if we are wrapping this up. Okay, I’m bracing for it. Here it comes…the pitch, the whimper, the beggar's appeal…“God bless you and your beautiful baby,” he says with a warm smile, his blue eyes suddenly clear and full of joy and promise. “Huh?” I am taken aback. “Well, God bless you too Don,” I replied quietly, almost ashamedly. “Oh I am blessed, sir, Jesus Christ lives in me and as long as I have Christ I have nothing to ever worry about!” And with that Don Johnson wishes me a good day and makes his way on down the brick path. So that was it, I thought; Christ is with Don Johnson…Christ is IN Don Johnson.

In whom will I find Christ today?

Time Keeps on Slippin'

“You can tell time, can’t you?” asks the late comic Richard Prior as he whoops up on his kids for their indifference to his parental concern. In his poignantly hilarious, if not a little controversial, manner Prior was mocking the contrast between the white, suburban, “Please pass the potatoes”, middle-class plain-ness and the jive-talkin’, jeri-curlin’ minstrelsy of poor urban black folk. As it turns out, many of those white suburban kids of privilege really can’t tell time.

In the public high school where I sometimes substituted, a student had to have a hall pass to go from the classroom to any other location during class period. The passes asked for the student’s name, date, destination, and time. At first, and largely as a matter of expedience, I asked the student the time. To my astonishment I learned that many kids – most of the kids - just could not tell the time. Seriously, I mean they could not look at the clock and TELL me the time. I don’t mean to imply that these kids are simply stupid…that would be an easy out. Yet, even when I made it super easy on them by just asking them to ball-park it, saying “Is it like a little before two o’clock?” or “Is it ABOUT ten thirty?” I was still met with blank looks. How could this be? Are these kids that inept? That lazy? I was prepared to concede and just say yes but then I got to thinking about it.

Since when do kids really need to know what time it is? Their moms wake them up in the morning. The ubiquitous school bell (not really a bell anymore but more of a synthesized clanging one might associate with a diving submarine) keeps them moving throughout the school day with nary a twist of the neck to check out the also ubiquitous clock. In fact, the clocks were regarded more with bemused curiosity, like an Aztec trinket or a shark’s tooth, than as a relevant tool of good order and discipline. One day, in response to my befuddlement at three different showings on three different clocks all within ten feet of each other, a math teacher explained to me that she just “listens for the bell!”

Most school-age kids don’t have jobs and so, consequently, have little need to be “on time” for it. Even favorite TV shows that parents remember as being on such and such day at such and such time (remember “Hawaii Five-O” at 10pm EST Wednesdays?) no longer require time-keeping. Kids can download and watch their shows on their PCs, iPods, TiVos or any of a dozen other such gizmos. Kids DON’T need to know what time it is!

Even as adults, the need for good time-telling skills is on the wane. Once heavily scheduled, parents and worker bees are doing more of their errands and tasks on line or over the phone, or more and more, not at all! Now it seems less and less important to be anywhere on time since nobody seems to know what time it is anyway. During the time I lived in Spain I marveled at how anything was ever accomplished in that country given the Spaniard’s less than punctilious devotion to the clock. But at least I knew the reason for their ways; sun-soaked afternoons, warm breezes, good cheap red wine…they genuinely had nothing to do and no where to go and genuinely had no need for time-keeping.

Americans don’t “pass the potatoes” anymore because they don’t sit down together at the dinner table anymore thus rendering dinner “time” irrelevant. I can’t help feeling a little sad and disappointed that a skill as rudimentary as telling time could fall into such neglect.

Well friends I have been away from the blog-wars for quite some time now. So much has happened in the interim that it would be uber-laborous to capture all that has taken place in the level of detail that would make it interesting to read. That said, I resolve to give you periodic "personal reflections" in which I will share personal highlights.

Please give this blog a chance. I have a lot of things on my mind and I am in a mood to share! What's on my mind? Obama-care, GOP fortunes and mis-fortunes, pop culture, child-raising, Catholic issues/perspectives, pets, etc. Basically, whatever is on my mind when I log in is what I give myself permission to blab - er, blog - about!

For example, at this moment I am watching So You Think Can Dance on FOX and I fully anticipate that I will be impressed and delighted at the high quality entertainment this program provides week in and week out. My jury is still out on the wisdom of adding non-dance industry celebrity guests to the panel of "jedges" but there's no doubting Ellen Degeneres is pretty funny. I guess now that the judges no longer have a real say (contestants advance on the phone-in votes of viewers) the producers feel the need to substitute levity for relevance. I am not really that surprised though since the format and length of the program (and the live audience) are conducive to more variety. Not that the dance isn't enough - it is, in my opinion - but you can't blame the producers for looking for new ways to increase their share. Alright, enough of that.

As I write this, the President is on another network (or several) holding his fifth news conference. I have already made up my mind that whatever health care crisis we may be experiencing - and I am not convinced there is a crisis - is not a matter for the federal government to get its fat hands on. For those of you who think the government can do a better job insuring people than private insurance companies, why stop at health insurance? Why not car insurance? Homeowners insurance? Heck, why stop at insurance? Why not take over every private industry? Seriously, what is the rationale for the government taking over any industry? I'll take your answers off the air!

Okay, that wraps it up for today. Take care, God bless and cheers!