Healthcare Got Run Over By A Reindeer

The hospital becomes a weirder place during Christmas. I'm not sure if it's because it contrasts so much with the holiday spirit that bombards us everywhere else. I just know that things are going to get 'looney tunes" until the new year. There is an unwritten law that no one is supposed to die between Thanksgiving and the New Year's especially on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. This leads to a form of health care psychosis in the staff who realize that death and disease never take a holiday. It's bizarre the things that go on to avoid death on a holiday. These non-death holidays occur throughout the year but in December they morph into a season. I wish I could take off during this time to avoid all the emotional angst and return when the level of mental illness returns to baseline. I prefer the other 330 days of the year when people are not burdened with the expectation of this special season.

In the meantime I'll take a deep breath and realize that people will eventually return to normal on January second. Besides, there is enough desserts and chocolate laying around to give me a serotonin buzz.

Bo's Thanksgiving

Ben takes the best Bo pictures; he makes Bo look pleasant.

The Island of Misfit Christmas Trees

I heard my first Christmas Carol on the radio. It wasn't a real Christmas Carol per se; it was more on the order of Grandma Got Run Over By A Snowmobile. In a couple of weeks another seasonal tradition will begin: The Island of Misfit Christmas Trees. As soon as the turkey carcass is in the trash an army of people will descend on the factory grounds to decorate trees into collages of ridiculous themes that have nothing to do with Christmas. Every goofy group will be represented with the possible exception of the Satanist (there was an upside down tree one year). By the time this funky forest is complete it will draw people from all over to see everything from UFO's to Nascar portrayed in Balsam Fir. There is no amount of drugs that can prepare you to see a Christmas Tree with a plastic head of Jesus come out of the fog at 6 am.

Our town has decided the theme for its Christmas Parade will be A Green Christmas; pardon me while I puke. I guess the Area-51 theme was taken by Asheville.

Patients Bill Of Anesthesia Rights

The Patient has the Right to:

Have their anesthetic performed anywhere in the hospital (including the loading dock).
*No matter how overweight, have General Anesthesia in any position without a breathing tube.
*Be free of all anxiety, pain, hunger, nausea and stress (even if they are "ALLERGIC" to all sedatives, narcotics, anti emetics, gas, anti inflammatory drugs, oxygen, hypnosis and acupuncture).
*Be alert and able to quote Shakespeare within five minutes after surgery.
*Have any procedure including open heart surgery and liver transplant without an IV.
*Physically and verbally abuse the staff (including spitting, biting, scratching and punching).
*Have at least ten family members and friends present at all times.
*Quote at least a dozen articles they read online and in the tabloids concerning how to do anesthesia.
*List at least five family members who have been paralyzed by a spinal anesthetic.
*Eat,drink and smoke right up to the start of surgery.
*Wear all their clothes, jewelry, make up, acrylic nails, body hardware, dentures, hearing aids, wigs, glasses, hats, raincoats and glitter to surgery.
*Show up a day late at admitting and still get their operation.
*Refuse any preoperative test you ordered.
*Ignore any preoperative instructions.
*Drive themselves home.

Ah, Patients! The beloved enemy.

A HIPAA Free Zone

If you put four Southerners in a small room within twenty minutes you will have a an ice cream social without the fat. I'm sitting in my Doctor's waiting room with four other strangers reading the book I brought and waiting "for the call". I'm looking at the heavy older gentleman sitting across from me and giving him my ten second medical assessment. I notice the thin skin, the spidery veins on his cheeks and his overall "Mr. Clean" appearance. I automatically put him in the "sick" category and suspect he's taking steroids for something. Across from me there is a young lady about thirty five with that Northern N.J. transplant look. Next to me is a slender, no-nonsense looking thirty year old "power-chick".

I'm sitting there about two minutes and I can feel it coming. My guess is the old guy is going to kick it off, and he does. He is suffering from prostate cancer that has spread to his bones. The Jersey girl had lung cancer; and she never smoked a cigarette. The power-chick is a few years out from stage three ovarian cancer. I'm at a loss here because I'm sitting there with just a little hypertension ( I have to come by every three months for a follow-up in which my doctor checks my blood pressure and then talks to me for twenty minutes about my dog). Obviously I didn't need to bring a book. During the hour wait I probably talk more than I do in a week. I now know all about these people and the hour has passed quickly. Perhaps it was the lousy magazines or the lack of a flat screen, but somehow the boring waiting room has become a point of social interaction. The "Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act" (HIPAA) doesn't apply to a doctor's waiting room. It's not hard to understand. It's a Southern thing.

In 76 The Sky Was Red

What Is He Afraid Of?

He is not afraid of Obama. Obama hasn't met a dictator he doesn't like. Netanyahu, might give him some pause. Actually, the "only thing that the Iranian government has to fear is its own people".





This is the face of hope in the Mideast: the Iranian people. It sure isn't the carnival of souls that met at the G-20. The West isn't going to do what it takes. They are afraid the price of oil will go to $400 a barrel. Poor Israel, it is like the old story about the pig and the hen. Israel is like the pig and the West is like the hen. The farmer calls them both into the kitchen and says he wants "Ham n Eggs" for breakfast. The hen lays two eggs and walks out while the pig is left standing there. The West risks $400 a barrel oil, while Israel faces annihilation. The average Americans response as it sits around its dinner table to a news report that Israel was nuked would be "pass the potatoes please".

Of course we can count on Russia to help out. They only supply the weapons that are killing our troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. But we have an antisemitic Marxist President who views the democracy movement in Iran with the same jaundiced eye that observes 200,000 protesters on the Capitol Mall. You can see how he would be conflicted.

During the Civil War (War Of Northern Aggression) when General Lee rode through a Northern village a woman was overheard to say, "Why can't he be ours?" That's how I feel about Bebe Netanyahu. He was the only leader to expose the U.N. for the sham it is. On the other hand, Obama gave a performance not worthy of a High School Mock U.N. Can you imagine if we had a leader that was for us as Netanyahu is for Israel? Take a look at our other ally in the Mideast, the Iranian people. One way or another the sky will soon be red over Iran.

Body Dysmorphia Can Have Its Good Points

At my sister's house our bedroom had one of those room length sliding door mirrors. This panoramic mirror also takes about 20 lbs off your body by just standing in front of it. What a cheap and easy way to lose weight and lighten your mood. Really, reality is overrated.




My sister also has a 72 inch wide screen TV in the den. Her TV makes everyone look six inches shorter and 40 lbs. heavier. This is especially true when the people move toward the outer edges of the screen. Along the edges, all the characters start to look like Danny DiVito. I'm sure somewhere in the thousand page manual that comes in thirty-two languages is a note on which button to push to get a picture that is in proportion.


Another thing about Las Vegas was that it was sunny with clear skies.


Tuesday we returned to N.C. to face another six days of clouds and rain. Quick, I need that TV and mirror to lighten my mood.

Upgrayedd

Upgrayedd with two D's for a double dose of car rental fun.

Budget Car Rental is my choice in Las Vegas. Two hour waits because they run out of cars doesn't discourage a true CB (there was a soccer tournament in town that weekend). We arrive at the McCarren Airport car rental center (which is about the the size of the Charlotte Airport). The rental center is just a seven minute shuttle bus ride from the airport. In the new rental center every agency has its own large office. Now the Budget center is about the size of a bank. The counter is fifty feet long and has ten or so customer windows. The problem is they only have two agents to serve the twenty people waiting in the rope line. The old airport kiosk had three agents. It takes about 10 minutes for the agent to process one customer (15 minutes for the chatty agent). We finally get to the counter and I'm praying that the Griswolds have returned the Family Truckster . Luckily I get the no-nonsense competent agent instead of "Chatty Cathy". But, there is a problem, they have run out of full size sedans. I'm willing to take the smaller Ford Fusion (last time they offered me a F-350 Crew Cab diesel pick-up) but instead she offers me a free upgrade to a Lincoln Town Car. How sweet, I get a senior citizen babe-magnet to drive for three days.

I find the silver beauty pictured above waiting for me in the luxury section across from the Kia Rio's. I have to get used to the programmable seat that retracts two feet when the key is removed, but the rest of the car seems to be the usual "fake-fancy" American bland. Without the use of a tugboat I launch this boat out into the streets of Vegas. Except for the ten foot long hood the car is pretty ho-hum. It did cruise well at 78 mph and got about 26 mpg but otherwise I can't imagine paying 48 K for this (more than the cost of two Honda Elements). I guess I am a senior citizen because I didn't turn any heads driving this "Sun City" edition Lincoln. I must be a senior citizen because for the fifth year in a row I missed the exit for the rental car return.

Another Masterpiece

CP has made another signature dish. I call it "Pork Tortellini Pizzaiola". It is amazing how like a Mozart aria, when all the ingredients come together just right a masterpiece is created. I've had Chicken Pizzaiola and my mother made Steak Pizzaiola but they always lacked that one special ingredient: PORK. More than the recession CP's cooking is the main reason not to eat out.

Parking Brake Redux

My Oldsmobile is still in the shop. They couldn't get the cable off the mechanism without damaging it. It takes awhile to get the parts for 16 year old cars made by a failing U.S. automaker. I'm really glad that they are replacing the cable, it could be another cause of the problem. What I am really happy about is that I realized this was a job I didn't want to get into. As one of my mentors once told me "you will never get in trouble for getting a consult". I'm glad I didn't attempt this "knuckle buster" and end up carrying in a box of parts. If I ever get the car back from the Hospice I'll apply the parking brake with a Q-Tip.

TV Revisited

In the "Odd Couple" Oscar Madison states, " getting a clear picture on channel two is not my idea of whoopee". The current season of "Ice Road Truckers" has concluded. This program really captured my interest. Perhaps, because it's just refreshing to see some Americans still working. Maybe it reminds me of my commute over Mount Storm in West Virginia. Last week was the first episode of this season's "Project Runway". It is a reality show where amateur designers compete for $100,000 to start their own clothing line. These are about the only weekly programming I watch, and they couldn't be more different.

Too bad TV has become so sedentary. When I was a child watching TV kept the kids hopping. One of us had to stand by to constantly adjust the horizontal hold to keep the picture from rolling. Every five minutes a nor-easter snow storm would white-out the picture and require one of us to jump up, run to the TV and give it a good slap on the side. The rabbit ears required constant attention. One kid's job was to turn the rabbit ears with all the finesse of a a navy sonar operator. I always felt that knob on the bottom of the rabbit ears did nothing at all; like the knobs on a Fisher-Price radio. There was one channel that only came in if my mother sat on a folding chair in one certain spot. I'm not sure if we were trying to reproduce the cinema experience but my family watched TV in absolute darkness. Maybe it helped the anemic image on the tube. You walked into the living room with a slice of pizza and a Coke and started tripping over people. I'm not sure if getting a clear picture on channel two was equal to whoopee, but it was exciting.

Babba vs The Parking Brake

I hate parking brakes. What I really hate are parking brakes on disc brakes. Over the last 80
years car makers have pretty well got the mechanism perfected for drum brakes. Usually just grease the adjustment fittings and tighten the cable once a year and that's it. Occasionally a cable will bind up and have to be replaced; no big deal.

The first unusual arrangement was on my 88 4-Runner. The 4WD models had this complicated arrangement with cams and release springs and a double cable that always hung up. Every year I had to take the drums off and clean and grease every thing and after a month only one rear wheel would hold with the parking brake. Now my 93 Olds has the parking brake built into one rear disc brake caliper. This 16 year old caliper has gradually got more and more bound up till finally it took so much force to apply it that I bent the parking brake pedal. So I straightened it out with a pipe wrench but I broke the mechanism so the pedal doesn't engage the cogs to tighten the cable.

Now I like to have a working parking brake. One reason is that it's a requirement to pass inspection and also my driveway is on an incline and small children play in the area. Finally, a reason I like a working parking brake is that I first started to drive at a time when brake failures were a seasonal occurrence. I had the sequence of responses always ready: downshift, hold the parking brake release up and apply the parking brake and look for a way around whatever is in front of you. My best brake failure happened when exiting a parkway in an MG. I popped the curb and drove around in circles on the grass till the combination of shrubs, small trees and parking brake brought me to a stop.

So my 93 'beater" is getting a new parking brake mechanism from G.M. I figure I couldn't sell someone a car that couldn't pass inspection. Hopefully my mechanic will also fix the rear mechanism that caused the problem. I'm happy I have a mechanic that can fix my old "beater". When he asked me if I knew what the problem was I said "sure I do, I broke it".

A Pre-existing Medical Condition

Now, can we all agree this poor fellow has a pre-existing medical condition? He would have trouble getting insurance because he's dead. However, you don't have to be this jacked up to have trouble getting Blue Cross to cover a pre-existing condition.

Consider your average 60 year old guy. He weighs 230 lbs. , he has adult onset diabetes, hypertension and a little depression with erectile dysfunction. His medications cost $500 dollars a month, every three months he sees his internist for $240, has $400 dollars worth of lab tests and his diabetic testing supplies cost $80 per month. Now if all these conditions remain controlled, his normal health costs are about $780 a month. Heaven forbid he get the flu, or some chest pain or breaks an ankle, then we are talking really big bucks. This fellow can get insurance to cover all his conditions. It would cost him about $2,000 a month. That is why insurance companies don't cover pre-existing conditions, because the premiums would be exorbitant. Basically the healthy have to support the sick. The trouble is the number of sick is overwhelming the ability of the healthy to support their costly care. Don't blame the health insurance companies. If the motorcyclist with his head in the rear door of the semi wanted to buy some life insurance he would have trouble finding an agent to write him a policy. The best he could hope for is a bailout at the Pearly Gates.

Doctor Demento

Yesterday there was an amputation on the surgery schedule. According to our President the surgeon was going to pocket $40,000 for a one hour procedure. I asked him about that $40,0000 figure. In the real world the surgeon gets about $750 for the procedure. This includes a pre-op consultation, the surgery, and about seven follow up visits. The surgeon can't charge Medi-Care again for anything he does for the patient related to the original procedure for six months. The idea that doctors are mismanaging their diabetic patients poorly in collusion with greedy knife happy surgeons is worthy of the Area-51 late night radio crowd.

Our President is dumb; there, I said it. Health care problems will never be solved. There are too few dollars chasing too much technology. Rationing is going on now and will continue. The malpractice costs are a big contributor to lack of availability. Ten million illegal aliens are a drain on our system. Twenty million of the uninsured are uninsured by choice. Ten million are eligible for an existing program but can't get themselves motivated enough to apply. If they keep targeting the doctors there will be more rationing and shortages. In Canada towns have lotteries to see who gets to see the doctor this month. If the government pisses off the doctors they are going to work less, retire early, and not be available on weekends. Already the government mandate that Medical Schools graduate 50% woman has worsened the crisis. On average women physicians work 30% less hours a week and will spend 10 years less in practice over their career than male physicians. Now if you get a brain tumor and can't find a neurosurgeon what good will your new government insurance be? You can take that insurance card and hold it against your forehead and hope for a cure.

Captain Obvious says "you can't get blood from a turnip". He also says "you can't legislate away death and disease".

Health Care in a Box

According to Obama the Federal Government will compete with private health insurance the way the Post Office competes with UPS and Fed-Ex. Obama is so dumb he doesn't realize he is making an argument against the Federal takeover of health care. The post office is a bloated money losing, subsidized dinosaur. Fed-Ex and UPS actually make money.

Example: United States Post Office Flat-Rate Shipping Box


Example: Obama-Care USPS Flat-Rate Shipping Box:

The Fun Suckers

The feminists grabbed our women,
The liberals banned our guns,
The health cops snuffed our cigarettes,
The bailout has our funds,
The laws of Breathalyzing
Put an end to our roadside bars,
Circle the Fords and Chevys, boys,
THEY'RE COMING FOR OUR CARS

P. J. O'Rourke

Another $ 2,ooo,ooo,ooo for cash for clunkers. Another band-aid solution that just moves the problem down the line six months. What other industry needs stimulation? How about cash for old homes, cash for refrigerators, cash for air conditioners or cash for guns. The gun industry is the only one that is prospering today, but they still bring out this gun-buy-back canard every few years for a photo op.

It all started with seat belt laws. Helmet laws came next, followed by state inspections emissions testing etc. I am amazed that motorcycles haven't been banned along with buttered popcorn and chain saws. The average step ladder comes with 4 warning stickers and one of them says don't stand on ladder. You should always use safety goggles while clipping your toenails and don't use this toaster in the bathtub. The radio station reminds us to wear a coat if it's ten below zero, coffee is hot, ice cream is cold and slow down driving in snow. The result of all this lunacy is that we have a generation of people that are really "too stupid to live". All this has the effect of fostering dependency and passivity. Before we euthanize our auto industry through regulation let us not forget what the American automobile industry did for American prosperity.

Cash for Geezers

You can help the environment, the deficit and health care if you just trade in Grandma. Any Grandma over 7o, with chronic illnesses who requires Ensure to get her motor running is eligible. The decrease in carbon dioxide emissions alone makes this an eco-friendly choice. You can take this $4,500 and get an abortion, a wind turbine or some solar panels. Act quickly because like Cash for Clunkers this program may be bankrupt in three days.

Cash For Clunkers or Repo-City?

This is my baby; how dare the Car-Czar call this a clunker? It's got 169 K miles on it, and it averages 20 mpg and gets 28 on the highway. I fill it up once a month and it has only had one major repair (blown intake manifold gasket). I keep it because I'm a CB. If it got 2 mpg less I could go down to the Hyundai dealer and have it euthanized. Then for only 11K I could get a Hyundai Sonata that would avg. 28 mpg.


Why do I think this is this dumb? We are taking good cars and pouring lapping compound in the engines to destroy the motors. Then the car goes to the crusher where its parts value is destroyed. Then it's off to the scrap yard where it is recycled and the rubber, plastic and steel shipped to China. Now the effect on the environment is about as negligible as an aborted bovine fart. Any fuel cost savings will be eaten up by higher registration taxes and insurance. The poor recession-whipped working class dog now has a car payment. In a few months you will see a lot of small cars for sale in the Penney-Saver; if you're looking for your clunker you may find it has reappeared as a toaster in Wal-Mart.

I'm glad to see our central government is helping to foster restraint and frugality during these tough times. Larry Burkett always said that "the cheapest car you can buy is the one you already own". The auto bubble was fed by easy credit and people loving that new car smell. Today's cars can last at least 200K miles. So what is government doing but promoting consumerism, irresponsibility and a throw away society? Just wait until you see the fraud discovered in this scam. Maybe, if I had an 88 Suburban with 250k miles on it that was rusted away I'd go down and get me a deal on a new "rice-burner". But I would pay cash and not get stuck with interest charges and fees and taxes that eat up the any cash incentive from Obama. I'm not going to have anyone tell me what to do with my Oldsmobile; especially when he's sitting on my lawn, drinking my beer.

Wellness Can Cost an Arm and a Leg

Wellness is the new buzz word for common sense. Now if the intelligentsia want to create a new age concept for what formerly was called nutrition, exercise, and hygiene, that's just swell. Preventative medicine, public sanitation, and healthy habits can provide a better quality of life and maybe add a few months to it. One thing that all this concern with health and longevity isn't is cheap.

We all know we should eat well, exercise, get enough rest, avoid smoking and drink with moderation. That's the easy and cheap part. The expensive part is the medical treatment. It's not the treatment of acute problems, but the chronic illnesses we are preprogrammed with that are breaking us.

An example of this is the class of drugs called "beta blockers" (BB). BB's are used to treat hypertension, cardiac arrhythmias, congestive heart failure and a slew of other problems. These wonder drugs lower the blood pressure, slow the heart, steady the rhythm and decrease the heart's need for oxygen. A side effect is that the person feels poopy; like a car with a governor on the throttle. This one class of miracle drugs probably increases ancillary costs to Medicare about a billion a month. The nursing homes are full of non-ambulatory, demented, elderly who are waiting to die from urinary sepsis. They are blind, deaf, incontinent, they need feeding tubes and skilled nursing care. However, because of the "beta blockers", that heart is chugging along at 50 beats a minute and their blood pressure is 100/60. These drugs are so beneficial that if the heart rate drops to 40 the patient will get a pacemaker just to remain on them.

This is the flip side of modern medicine. Wonder drugs, screening tests, glucose monitoring, mammograms, PSA's and personal trainers may lead to a longer and healthier life but, they DON'T save money. So when some politician tells you he is going to save you money through preventative medicine and wellness programs, he is a liar. Death is cheap.

Ken-L Ration Health Care

The latest health reform buzz word is "rationing". Why is it such an awful word? Unless you are Bill Gates your whole life consists of some form of rationing. We have rationing now and we will have it in the future. What is the alternative? Do we spend a million dollars a day to keep one child alive? Do we offer an 89 year old with stage four cancer surgery, chemotherapy, radiation or a bone marrow transplant? "But," someone will say "You can't put a price on a human life." We do it everyday. We buy a car that contains three thousand dollars of safety features; if cost didn't matter we would drive around in Sherman Tanks. All we can do is create enough wealth to drive the cost of a human life higher. In the U.S. a human life is worth $1,700. In Somalia a human life is worth 17 cents. We need to look at what we can get for that 17% of our GDP spent on health care. Sometimes there are no good choices. Death comes to every person. It's terrible, especially with children, but it can't be bought off. This is another part of an affluent nation's state of denial. The rich will always get the best, that's the way it is and that's how it's always been. We have to tone down the hysteria of the socialists, the right to lifers, the statists, the globalists and the Hemlock Society. How can we use our finite resources best to bring an acceptable level of health to our society? Maybe "do everything you can for grandma" isn't the best response in every situation. These are terrible choices that haunt people, however waving the bloody shirt of rationing solves nothing. There is a middle ground between society spending half a million dollars to keep great Grannie around for three more months versus putting Grannie out on an ice flow to await the polar bear because she can't chew the blubber anymore.

All these policy buzz words are just "dead herrings", they shine, but they stink. They are meant to stifle discussion. The other buzz word that bugs me is "wellness" but I can't handle that right now without blood shooting out my nose.

What Health Insurance Isn't

Insurance is supposed to protect individuals and businesses from rare catastrophic events.
The idea is to lay off risk, which is why insurance isn't even the correct vehicle to handle medical expense. If you are over 70 years old most medical expenses are not rare and a good share are catastrophic. Somewhere around forty our bodies are really moving away from insurance to pre-payment. A young healthy teenager really needs accident insurance more than medical insurance. A geezer needs medical insurance because every little accident can kill him.

First, health is what we do for ourselves and second, medicine was what others do for us. Medicine is supposed to come along after a lifetime of neglected and squandered health and make all things new. Two things that don't save money are wellness programs and preventative medicine. You may live a month longer but you are just going to consume more dollars trying to eek out that extra month in the day room.

Insurance should be like auto coverage. You use it when you have a wreck. It's not there to cover routine oil changes and wiper blades. Yet, more and more people expect their policy to cover prescriptions, eyeglasses, vitamins, OTC pain relievers, chiropractors, massage therapists, marriage counseling etc. People will not be happy until they don't pay for anything and have everything. They want Cadillac care at Ford prices. Cataract surgery on both eyes costs $24,000 cash. The reason it costs so much is because Medicare only pays $1, 400 for both eyes. Without Medicare the cash price per cataract surgery would be about a grand. So for two thousand dollars ( the cost of four RV tires) you have your eyesight restored to new for the rest of your life. Why don't people want to pay for such a bargain? No one wants to get sick or old so no one wants to pay for it. Since someone else is paying for it nobody cares how much it costs or how necessary it is. When it's time to put that third pacemaker in 99 year old Aunt Edna who sits restrained in a chair trying to eat her own face the family says go for it. If that family had to pay for that pacemaker ($20,000) with its 15 year atomic battery they would at least pause to think about it.

What's the answer? How about mandatory insurance for everyone with a deductible equal to 10% of your yearly income. The government would be forced to take care of the catastrophic illnesses; as it already does. Catastrophic illness should be handled like bankruptcy, you can keep your house and your car and wide screen TV. I should be able to get medical insurance for about $400 a month and when my last $400 is gone , boom I'm on Medicaid.

If medical insurance is a right, what else is a right? Is a home a right? What about an SUV? How about free Legal Services? Is food a right? How about clothing? Where does it end? Try to go buy car insurance after you've had the wreck; see how far you get.

Some Rob You With A Six-Gun; Others With A Fountain Pen

CP was down at our Congressman's office to join the protest against the state sponsored takeover of the the nation's health care industry. It was exciting to see CP on camera during the local news along with the other right wing yahoos. WLOS couldn't just report on the protest, they felt the need to put in a scripted human interest story to divert attention from the true meaning of the protest.

The Minnick's took early retirement and moved to Mexico to retire in third world luxury. Nobody goes to Mexico for the medical care unless you want a boob-job. While down in sunny Mexico two things happened. First the U.S. economy collapsed and second, drug wars broke out threatening the security of the new Yankee immigrants. These reverse wet-backs are in much better shape than others trying to survive this recession.

I was so moved by their story that I sent the TV station a dollar to pass on to the Minnick's to help with the high cost of health insurance and their dwindling 401K. Perhaps if enough people join me in this fundraiser we can get them a ticket back to Mexico. We all know Mexican health care is the best in the world. As I write this thousands of Gringo's are wading across the Rio Grande to get their MRI's and liver transplants.

A La-Z-Boy Will Survive

My way of coping with the Obama Recession has been to repair everything and replace nothing. The spirit of Alvin Dale has consumed me. From my 93 Oldsmobile to my ten year old Eureka upright I'm keeping everything churning.

This La-Z-Boy has been my friend for seventeen years. We had a Lane recliner that just wasn't as comfortable as my favorite La-Z-Boy. Like a seasoned wok this chair comes with its own flavor of my life. Bo likes to sleep on it, Simba would curl up behind it (she wasn't allowed in the living room but would sneak in after I started snoring and curl up behind me, as soon as my hand touched the handle she was back in the kitchen). I also have added to the ambience of the chair by sleeping in it for hours while the History Channel drones on.

The ratchet that allows the recliner to tilt far back just wore out. When I looked underneath it I found the arm rest covers and head cover that belies the original color of the fabric. I went to the La-Z-Boy website and found that parts are only available through dealers. Much to CP's chagrin I had her call them and to my surprise the parts were free; all I had to do was drive an hour to the outlet and pick them up. I'd like to thank President Obama for this CB moment. Without this recession I may have been tempted to buy a new La-Z-Boy. The new ones seem a bit more expensive and are a bit wider. They even have a self ejection model for those super lazy boys who have trouble returning to the verticle position. With luck my present recliner will last till I need the turbo model.

Co-Dependence Day

Usually on the Fourth of July I like to stand on my deck and fire off a couple of magazines through my Mini-14. This holiday I'll have to tone it down a bit. Since Obama emerged as the leading candidate the ammunition supply has dried up for ordinary citizens. I'm sure the Police and the Brown Shirts have all they desire. I thought, "Well, I'll go back to reloading." Wrong. All the dies for handgun cartridges are back-ordered and primers can't be found anywhere at any price. I usually shoot antique rifles (more than 100 years old) and have a lifetime supply of old military dies, bullets and cartridges. Wouldn't I look foolish walking through downtown Manhattan with a Martini Henry rifle from the Boer War strapped over my shoulder?

This is not your usual red-neck yahoo talk. I like to shoot like others enjoy golf. Are golfers having problems finding their favorite Tiltleist Pro V1 golf balls? I'm waiting to see how long this shortage lasts. I know there is a lot of hoarding going on since the country elected its first Kenyan Black Nationalist President, but the normal market forces should react to the shortage in a year. The increase in the price of ammunition makes the gasoline price increase look small. Defense rounds now cost about three dollars a round. Next time you're mugged you have to ask yourself if it's cheaper to hand over your watch or waste a bullet.

If the current shortage continues for another year I'll have to make a trip out to Nevada. There, on the family homestead, I have buried four PVC pipes full of ammo left over from the Clinton era. All those people that invested in gold should have put their money in handgun ammunition; its value has increased 200%. There is no reason for gun control if the government can control the ammunition and its components.

This year to celebrate the 4th I'm going to cast some lead bullets from wheel weights that the Midas guy saves for me. If you inhale enough lead vapor you can become stupid enough not to realize what's happening.

Tomato Sauce: A Renewable Energy Source

Driving back from Washington D.C. I was listening to the Dems talk about the need to replace fossil fuel as the number one driver of the nation's economy. I was looking for some way to conceptualize the flawed logic of all this alternative energy propaganda. The only thing I could come up with as I pounded the miles off on I-66 was Italian Tomato Sauce.

In my enchanted land of Italian Cuisine tomato sauce flows from the ground. The best sauce ever exists in abundance waiting to be ladled over one's favorite linguine. However, the Grand Potentate decreed this readily available sauce to be dirty. A decree was issued that all Tomato Sauce was to be made out of fresh tomatoes picked by guest workers and cooked for hours in big factories in Iowa.. The process required much labor and energy. The sauce also had to be canned. Since all the canneries are located in China the sauce had to be loaded on super-tankers for the trip to China, and then returned to the United States on huge container ships. The new canned tomato sauce didn't taste as good as the natural sauce, it also didn't cling to the pasta like the the natural sauce. The canned sauce was also corrosive to pots and utensils.

As people forgot how to go to the pond and ladle the natural sauce they became more and more dependent on the evil tomato growers. In a bold move the Grand Potentate decided to end the nation's dependence on tomatoes. To placate the Maine lobbyists he decreed that cranberries would be substituted for tomatoes. This made the sauce very expensive and quite tart. People ate less and less pasta and eventually forgot that the best sauce in the world was all around them.

However, somewhere deep in the the forest an elderly hermit who never got the memo, bends down and dips his bread in the best sauce on Earth.

Monsoon Wedding

Mexican Havahart Trap

This Plexiglas booth is used to allow workers to work in the O.R. without creating a lot of dust. It rolls around from spot to spot and has a bellows like thing on the top that cranks up to make a flush seal against the ceiling. Last week, to my surprise, I came out of the O.R. and saw two Mexican construction workers in this box. Even with 10% unemployment, the contractors exclusively hire illegals. My first thought upon seing this was "we got two Mexicans in a box". Then I remembered my old Havahart Trap which I used to catch raccoons and cats when I had pigeons.

I thought about calling the I.N.S. but I was afraid they would just put them in a burlap sack and drop them off in the next town like I did with the cats.

GM R.I.P.

GM is dead! Obama can pump thirty billion a year into the corpse, but in the end all we will have is another Amtrak. We were a Chevy family. I had three cousins that were mechanics at Soundview Chevrolet in New Rochelle, N.Y. My first car was a 1953 Chevrolet Bel-Air. Later I inherited my father's 64 Chevrolet Impala. Then I owned a 73 Oldsmobile Delta 88, 94 Delta 88, a 98 Dodge Ram 1500 and now I drive a 93 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. I also had an array of foreign cars (Citroen, Fiat, V.W.,Toyota, Honda and Subaru). I think I lucked out because all the American cars I've owned have been good. I think I missed out on Detroit's true lemons. I had cousins at Chevy that warned me about the Corvair.

This is a sentinel event. The UAW, Environmental Socialists and loony Global Warming hysterics have killed the greatest company on Earth. GM isn't really dead; it's in a federally subsidized coma. I remember the skies over Gary Indiana lit up from United States Steel; I remember when this country made things.

God bless the Bolsheviks - They're smarter than us!

Check out this article from Pravda.



Even the Russians are smarter than us.

Quilt Contest

This is CP's quilt which I recently hung up in our living room. She used my favorite colors, red and black. It is beautiful.

This is my quilt, also red and black. I don't think I'll hang this one up.

This is a genuine Nazi flag. Like all things German the quality is top drawer. My mother's first husband brought this back from Germany. He was a Jew and was selected to be part of the liberation of the death camps. The flag is in very good shape. On V-E Day my mother brought the flag to the celebration at Times Square. There the flag was laid in the gutter for people to walk on. The age of fascism has faded, yet I can hold this souvenir in my hand and remember that sixty-four years ago over twenty millon people perished under this banner. No, this banner of death will go back in the safe. I prefer to hang up the sofa-size painting of the Dogs Playing Poker across from C.P.'s gorgeous quilt.

He's Back

Give me a break! It's been almost a year since BO had blog post.

In my politically incorrect room.

CP discovered this picture of my boyhood bedroom. Now I count a total of twelve guns. The long horn antlers above the bed with my Davy Crockett coon skin cap would really make P.E.T.A.'s day. How about that Conestoga Wagon on my nightstand, a little reminder of how the evil white man stole the Indian's land. My Tom Tom for when I played Cowboys and Indians. On the floor is my record player with it's assortment of patriotic songs e.g. "The Battle of New Orleans", "Big John" and the "Davy Crockett" theme song. If you look close you can see my "3-D Viewfinder" and my Hardy Boys novels. You just don't see kids with scrapbooks or doing Venus-Paint-By-Number anymore. Not an i-Pod to be seen anywhere. Like me, my old room probably belongs in a museum.

You gotta have skills!

Well Babba's on another forced vacation. If I'm not on my way to Vegas than I'll be home working on my condo. I painted my office a nice color called "Arabica Taupe". It is the perfect color to cover the coffee stains from the previous tenant. I think the previous occupant was an English major that hurled cups of coffee at the wall when she experienced writers block. The Kilz brand paint covered in one coat and it looks delicious.

The only room left to paint is the big four car garage I call a living room. I knew it would be a challenge but I thought I'd handle it with my "over the hill" technique. This entails breaking the projects into small pieces and dragging it out a few days longer. CP wouldn't hear it. She said I couldn't handle the fifteen foot vaulted ceiling. I would have to rent a 10 foot ladder or a Bakers Scaffold to do a good job. CP has denied me a great project here. She hired a painter from the Feed and Seed. So tomorrow I have to disappear for the day so "Dan in Real Life" can paint the hangar. I call him that because he s a single guy with two teenage daughters.

Now I did do some of the prep work. I moved the two fish tanks into the center of the room and I took off the face plates and patched the holes and cracks. So now I just have disappear for the day and enjoy my vacation. Well, I'll always have my beautiful taupe office to spill coffee in.

No, that's not a Mercedes Benz

I decided to use my Topsider to change the oil on my 93 Oldsmobile. Oldsmobiles were cars actually made in the USA before Obama made us "Citizens of the World". I looked it up and it was almost a year ago that I discovered that Speedy Lube & Tune had stripped my oil drain plug. In this year I only accumulated 2,400 miles on my little jaunts to work and the store. I didn't want to take a chance on that aftermarket plug working a second time. Besides, I didn't have any replacement plastic crush washers which those plugs require.

My Topsider dip stick oil changer is left over from my boating days. The dip stick in the Old's is too narrow for the original drain hose. However, I was able to use an "intubating stylet" from work to reach through the narrow tube into the crankcase. (I spend a lot of time at working trying to think up real-life use for all this expensive medical crap.) The stylet is just a long flexible tube that you put in a patient's trachea to guide the breathing tube into the windpipe. It's only rarely needed; mainly for my special patients who arrive for surgery without their chins or with toucan-like overbites. This is how Mercedes-Benz dealers change their oil. I needed CP's help to pour the oil into the container for recycling. I can never do a job completely by myself. You can see the picture of us in the front yard bending over pouring motor oil in next month's issue of "Condo Life".

Well, it took a little longer with the narrow stylet (25minutes) to suck out 4 quarts of used oil. I added 4 qts. of Wal-Mart High Mileage 5w30 and I'm good for another year. The last time I used Ford's Motor-Craft Synthetic Blend Oil. I think it caused the seals to leak a bit.

I want to keep my Olds till the Obama regime is over. Besides, I enjoy it when young people ask me, "What kind of car is that?" I reply, "It's your father's Oldsmobile."