The Repeal of The Affordable Care Act…

…theory does not practicality make.

Why can’t people extend logic just a smidge? An iota? A scintilla? If you have the creative capacity to dream up scenarios to defend your shitty, weak hypotheses, what is the harm in thinking an additional minute or two to ensure your idea isn’t completely off-base or entirely wrong? Wouldn’t it make it easier to sell? Wouldn’t it make it believable? Because, when you don’t take that extra five minutes or so, you’re left with being challenged by some nitwit, healthcare consultant in the South who doesn’t care much for people and certainly isn’t agreeable when she identifies significant gaps which she, in her distorted sense of ethics, deems immoral.

Alas, no. Logic is not a consideration in Conservative decision making. Neither is decency. Nor humanity. If it was, these assholes wouldn’t be hijacking government via “special sessions” (imma lookin atchu, NC General Assembly) and the Senate wouldn’t be voting to repeal the Affordable Care Act when they should otherwise be in bed, fucking their rent-boys.

A few things to note:

The costliest demographic to providers and insurers in healthcare is the chronically ill, age regardless.
The general public will never escape the burden of funding care for those who cannot pay the bill.

In a society that relies on employer subsidized healthcare as the model, eliminating the consumer’s protection with respect to preexisting conditions is reckless, irresponsible and immoral. There is absolutely no guarantee any person can maintain constant employment. Costs for non-subsidized health insurance are unrealistic for middle and lower class citizens without opting for a deductible that is unreasonable.

With Ryan’s plan, the state and federal governments are still involved. The insurance providers are still involved. They’re still subsidizing the cost. Your tax dollars are still paying for this albeit less efficiently because you have diluted the market, as a whole. Your insurance premiums will still be offsetting the cost for the providers.

“For sick patients who cannot continue coverage, Ryan’s plan calls for a return to state-run high-risk pools. These pools allow sick people to buy insurance separately, while states, insurers and the federal government help subsidize the cost. The president-elect’s website says he supports risk pools.

Risk pools have a long and controversial past. Before the ACA was passed, 35 states ran risk pools for people with preexisting conditions ranging from cancer and diabetes to more minor afflictions such as arthritis or eczema. Premiums for risk pool coverage were as much as 250 percent more than a healthy person would pay for individual insurance, and some states, overwhelmed with sick patients, had wait lists for coverage or imposed other restrictions, said Fish-Parcham.”

Additionally, as we see in other business models, when there is shrinkage or loss, the cost of business is passed along to the consumer. Do you honestly believe providers (practices or hospitals) are not going to inflate their charges to the consumer to make up for the bad debt of others? Do you think you’re not going to be stuck assuming that burden? YOU WILL BE.

And so forth. Further reading here.

The Millennal Whoop…

…that one and maybe the other one.

Earlier today, I was listening to Spinning by GROUPLOVE. Why does that matter, you ask? Because it’s fucking music and fucking music dictates my existence, that’s why. And, since not even Dock is immune to a power pop song, I thought I would play Spinning for him on the way to McTeacher night at Mac-Don-Ald-Ssss because we had to dump some money into this valiant fundraising effort while slowly killing ourselves via chicken fusion, “beef” and filet-o-fisk (the word fish in Swedish is fisk).

Around minute who-gives-a-fuck Dock says “Oh! The Millennial Whoop. Gotta have the Millennial Whoop. Can’t have a song these days without the Millennial Whoop.” I What-You-Tawkin-About-Willis him and wait for his knowledge drop. Whether I like it or not, Dock is way more au courant than I in the music scene. “The Millennial Whoop. You know, where all the Millennial bands full of 90 members sing songs that have to include at least one ‘Wo-Oh,’ typically two.” I’m all what-the-fuckity-fuck-are-you-on-now? Dock patiently repeats himself and then launches into a diatribe about the Millennial bands with their eleventy billion members, their lutes, their mandolins and their ukuleles.

“Millennials have to be special, creative and different so they decided to add in a ‘Wo-Oh’ so their friend who can’t carry a tune gets a star for participation. As for the ukuleles, well, there as many of those as there are strings on the instrument. Each ukulele has one string and it’s played by a single person, reflecting the individuality and specialism of the player and the instrument because, in keeping with the spirit of Millennials, special things require special dedication. A ukulele will not be sullied by a player playing all four strings at one time. Oh fuck no. A ukulele and its string gets the respect it deserves: one instrument, one string and one player. Just like the singer who can’t sing but doesn’t like feeling left out: that person gets the ‘Millennial Whoop’ credit on the liner notes.”

You can see where we’re going.

Ever the reluctant optimist (Me. No, really.) says “You know, I have been observing a weird trend. It seems like the entire world has had enough of the Millennials’ handcrafted, *artisanal bullshit. Even social anthropologists are like ‘Ugh. I can’t eeeeven any longer with you snowflakes. Lemme go find a hairblower to melt your sorry asses.'” Dock, being the curmudgeonly skeptic that he is offered a plate of doubt but I persisted. I even said “Remember all those years I said, ‘let the Millennials try to change the workforce?’ No longer. Fuck ’em. Let them get lost on the way back from yoga or the food co-op and miss a meeting. I’m busy raising a seven year-old and nagging you to take out the garbage. I can’t be arsed to remind them to do their jobs or show up for a meeting.”

We came to the conclusion that, like everything else, the Millennials kind of suck. But, we’re Gen-X so we really don’t want to invest the energy into actively disapproving of them, let alone disliking them.

Then, we decided to do a comparative analysis about shopping for a vehicle: Gen-X vs Millennials, reality vs life through rose colored glasses.

Car salesweasel: Hi there! I bet you’re looking for a car! What can I help you drive off the lot today?

Gen-Xer: A car? Is that what you’re selling? I was hoping for a kidney or one crack, please. Also, can you confirm the rumor that Mudhoney is playing a rent party in the backroom?

Millennial: Oh wow! Hi! Thank you for being so helpful! Why yes, I am looking for a car! Can we be friends? What’s your user name on Tumblr, Instagram, Snapchat, Kik and Waterbuffalo? Are you on Yelp so I can review you? What about FourSquare? Will you give me positive feedback as a super-extra-awesome customer when the transaction has concluded? Also, I’d really like a t-shirt but please make it one that looks like it’s from the 90s. I’m totally dedicated to retro. Can’t you tell I’m going for the Cobain-meets-man-bun look?

Car salesweasel: So, whatcha looking for?

Gen-Xer: Something that goes backwards and forwards. Relatively reasonable fuel economy. Carplay or other stupid interfacing whatever. Turn signals would be nice. One of those rearview cameras, too. Just so long as it doesn’t jack up the price because I’m not paying list. You hear? I am not paying list. If you have it in black with tan interior, we have a deal. You dig?

Millennial: Ok! So, this is what I’m thinking about! I have a few pictures if you want to see what I have downloaded! I have added some stickers and emojis to convey my feelings because I’m not really great with the words! I’d like a car that is environmentally friendly because we don’t care enough about the environment these days and I’m super-extra-passionate about the environment and none of the candidates even addressed that in the debates! None! Can you believe that!?! Well, Bernie did, at least!

Next, I need really gentle tires for the blacktop! I hate hurting things, physically and/or emotionally! I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing I caused any form of pain! Also, I left my favorite fluffy at my parents’ house when I was there doing laundry and they told me I wasn’t allowed to come back for two weeks so sleeping has been really. really, really hard. :cry cry cry:

Super critical!!111! Do you offer carbon offset credits? Because, again with the environment!!! I cannot buy the Grand Wagoneer without the credits! I just can’t! And I really can’t see myself and my 20 dogs in a Fiat! There’s just not enough room for that!!! We can’t have the dogs cramped on the long trips to the mountains for the weddings I have to go to! Also, I haul *a lot* of mason jars and pickled vegetables for my side business. Are you interested in purchasing pickled gourds for your Thanksgiving dinner? I handcrafted them myself with help from my friends who make their own diaper cream. :sticks screen in salesweasel’s face: LOOK AT MY WEBSITE!!! Helvetica is the best!!! I masturbate to style guides. Oh. That was TMI, wasn’t it?

Car salesweasel: Are you financing the purchase or…?

Gen-Xer: What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m financing this like I financed the toilet paper I had to buy yesterday.

Millennial: So, here’s my concept of how we should be paying for things! Money is corrosive to the soul and thus corrosive to society! In order to build a more perfect world, I suggest we trade! You will give me the car and I will give you two hours of manual labor at your home! I can empty the dishwasher, take out the trash or clean the litterbox! Wait! You look disappointed. Fine. I’ll throw in a case of my special, birch scented homemade beard wax if you promise to give me a year’s worth of oil changes, too! What do you say? Do we have a deal? OMG OMG OMG! If we do, I will totally meet you at the park for a game of kickball! You’ll love my friends! They make the best moonshine you have ever tasted in your life! Right in the bathtub! I’m telling you. The things one can do with what one already has. If people just stopped, slowed down and appreciated what was around them and the unique gifts life has to offer…

Then we started making fun of the Millennials’ farm-to-table lettuce sammiches on stone ground wheat bread. Little did they know the lettuce was sourced from Compare Foods on Avondale Drive in Durham and the bread was stolen off a delivery truck parked by the Sheetz on Miami Blvd.

Being Gen-X is whatever. We knew from a young age no one gave a shit about us or anything other than themselves. This was impressed upon us every time we came home from school to an empty house with only the television to keep us company. We’re not necessarily the bastards of the young but we are the bastards of the Boomers. There’s a lot to be said for being the progeny of the narcissistic.

While other generations have said our attitude sucks and we’re slackers, thinking that was going to incite some form of change or emotional growth and development, we stayed true to our ambivalent selves and did nothing. We don’t fucking care about what people think. Never have. Never will. We remain the generation just trying to make it across the hellscape. We’re the generation that took existentialism and nihilism and made it something for the masses as opposed to the intellectually sanctimonious and elite by merely breathing and rolling our eyes while smoking a blunt and drinking PBR from a CAN.

And, as we sit on the cusp of this nation’s destruction, some of us are concerned but we’re also not. Gen-X continues to see your bullshit. Be it the selfishness and narcissism of the Boomers or the complete inability to accept that humans are ordinary from the Millennials. Whatever comes to pass, as the circus continues around us, Gen-X, sandwiched by The Bearded generations (patchouli Deadheads who refuse to let go of the past and hipsters who really have no fucking idea what irony is), will remain spectators, quietly singing along to the Millennial Whoop in our financed vehicles while consuming processed food, drinking overpriced coffee, comforted by the knowledge that we don’t look through rose colored glasses. We’re not snowflakes. We’re not special. We’re not seeking “experiences.” We just don’t want to be assholes – bearded or clean shaven.

Oh well, whatever, nevermind.

*Look at this. Even spellcheck won’t acknowledge the existence of artisanal. That’s how fucking lame this word and this concept is. To prove my point further: the word includes the word ANAL as the suffix.

I think you should…

…fuck off with the “You should…” suggestions.

Over the summer, a galpal of mine and I were sitting at a tapas bar in Durham, unencumbered by daily responsibilities of parenting and work, feasting and chattering about life in general. This particular friendship is new and genuinely treasured because Galpal reminds me very much of Kate (Yes, I realize the gravity of that statement and I’m trying not to make that Galpal’s burden because that’s a fucking nightmare of a standard to live up to). Also, she is wise, brave and just emerging from a serious life overhaul. I, on the other hand, find myself feeling positively clueless, largely afraid of my own shadow and in the midst of watching everything I spent my entire adult life working for crumble around me. 2015 has been anything but kind or fair for me and a lot of my friends. I may even go so far as to say that 2015 has been even more challenging and painful than the year following Kate’s death, which says quite a lot since I essentially shut down in 2011. The only difference between now and then is that in 2011, I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to shut down. This year, no such luck. This year, I had to figure out how to move forward and solve my problems while still managing all that requires management. Had it not been for Galpal and numerous others (some new faces, some familiar faces), I highly doubt I would have been able to pull it off. Strong and stubborn as I may be, I’m still very much the person who eyeballs that sofa longingly and fights the urge to crawl beneath it and stay hidden for weeks at a time. If Milkface didn’t need to get to or from school and if I didn’t have to justify my existence during a re-org, my ass would have been under that sofa with a box of Kleenex and a bottle of benzos. We all know that to be true.

As we were talking about life, in general, the significant obstacles Galpal has overcome and the hideous list of shit that I have to address, the subject of friendly advice (solicited or not) entered the conversation. One’s friends and loved ones genuinely mean well. If you care about someone, it’s painful to watch them struggle. When you’re emotionally invested in someone, you want to help solve their problems. Unless, of course, you’re an entirely selfish asshat and then you just let them flounder. There are those in life who, as I say, like to watch the world burn. But, the well-intended will always be there for you and that is a genuinely amazing thing. Whether it’s holding your hand while you’re crying, bringing you bottles of booze, taking you out and giving you a much needed change in scenery, sharing their hard-earned wisdom or just making you laugh, the well-intended are treasures. I consider myself to be beyond fortunate to have many in my life. And, of course, because I’m an obsessive perfectionist, I usually feel guilty for not appreciating them enough or acknowledging how much they do for me, how much they mean to me and how much they enrich my life.

The conversation went on and I remember going back to something Galpal said a friend of hers mentioned. It was a “You should…” statement. “You should go out and do…” And there, at the bar, I found myself annoyed. Annoyed bordering on slightly angry. “You should…” What “should” any of us do? Really. We’re not talking about a life or death issue. We’re not talking about managing an illness. We’re not talking about anything critical in nature. We’re talking about benign lifestyle choices. We’re talking about things that could potentially make us happy, right? But when someone says “You should…” and then follows it up with a suggestion that is more suitable to their personality and their needs, it’s not really a suggestion that is suitable for the person being spoken to. No, it’s a statement about what makes someone else happy and the assumption is “It makes me happy. It will make you happy, too.” Again, a great intent and likely very sincere. Yet, not remotely applicable. You can’t tell someone to do something and expect a good outcome if the action doesn’t work for the individual. I can no more tell someone to write down their feelings if they’re not interested in writing than a rando suggesting that I declutter my house, clean or cook a meal to make myself feel better as I have no interest in doing any of those things. I also lack the time and the energy.

Giving the “You should…” statements the fair benefit of the doubt, one knows the person saying them means well. The person genuinely cares. The person wants to see the other person happy and fulfilled. “You should…” when it comes to certain lifestyle choices is nothing more than an opinion. While we value our friends’ input, opinions don’t often solutions make. Sometimes, the opinion can actually make things worse via making the audience feel badly because if the listener doesn’t follow the “You should…” then there’s a feeling of guilt. “You should…” brings along a lot of negative implications.

Let’s be honest here, are any of us happy when an order is barked at us? And isn’t “You should…” an order? Or…am I that loath to direction that I am interpreting something otherwise innocuous as a command? Therein lies part of the problem. Shouldn’t we always speak or write to the level of our audience and consider the interpretation of our message? If I said “You should consider your message because I think you sound like a fucking asshole when you dole out unsolicited advice.” would you interpret my message as helpful and warm or would you say “Fuck. I managed to piss off Kang. Again. Why is she always so fucking brittle?”

That night, at the tapas bar, I decided I detested the “You should…” sentiment. A few days later, I texted Galpal and said “I’m striking that from my language. I feel that strongly about this. I’m no longer going to say ‘You should…’ to anyone.” For the most part, I have been successful. Sometimes, I’ll trot it out in a snarktatstic sense. Sometimes, I catch myself about to say it and then have to stop, correct myself and think of a more meaningful way to frame advice. Other times, I have finally embraced the most difficult thing of all – keeping one’s mouth shut and just listening to your friends and offering comfort. Because, if I have learned anything from this fucktastic shitstain of a year, it’s that I know very little about life and that in spite of your hardest work/efforts, your master plans and your intentions; you’re going to be diverted from your path. And, oddly enough, those diversions aren’t necessarily the worst thing that could happen, either. Sure, they’re fraught with pain and fear, but they’re also opportunities to learn, grow and challenge yourself. You never end up on the losing end if you’re gaining something. Knowledge is something so…there you be.

So, in summary, “You should…” statements fucking suck. They’re arrogant. They imply that the person making the statement knows what is best for you and that isn’t always the case, especially in life’s grey areas. And, to reference a conversation from this morning with Blitz, it’s high time we all “stop defining stuff for other people and not worry about fitting in anyone else’s fucking box.” Sometimes, things aren’t going to make fucking sense. Sometimes, the people you love are going to struggle and there isn’t going to be the magical potion that will make them immediately peaceful and happy. Sometimes, you’re going to have to watch them sort it out on their own and stand by them as they do. There will be times when we can’t solve problems for other people (unless the problem is solely financial and one of us has a fuckton of money they can part with). Most of the time, what makes you happy isn’t going to necessarily satisfy someone else entirely or, dare I say, at all.

No more “You should…” anything. Unless, of course, it’s “You should stop making these statements.”