My kingdom for a sic
Although it’s apparently not in the AP Stylebook, this quote from a story in today’s Post-Gazette just screams for a qualifier:
“Usually I like football,” he said, “but that day I could care less.”
Especially given this piece on that very offense, published two days ago.
Oh, delicious irony.
The system is broken
My recent trip to Boston left my heart full of hope for the web design community, and my ankle full of blood thanks to the massive internal hemorrhaging that I enabled from my tumble over a case of Sam Adams (running sober, no less).
When I came home, common sense (Arielle) prevailed and a trip to the doctor was arranged. At least one was attempted. Finding my so-called “personal care physician” and setting up an appointment within a reasonable amount of time proved to more difficult than getting an audience with the pope. So I sucked it up and hobbled into the emergency room at our nearest hospital and began the long wait.
Having only been to the ER once before for drinking darkroom chemicals when I was a kid, I was unsure of what to expect. Appalachian Emergency Room came to mind, and Pittsburgh did not disappoint (remember, it’s only 50 miles to West Virginia).
From my experience, I bring back one simple question: What is up with American health care? Does a visit to the doctor really need to be weighed against the monthly mortgage payment? Thanks to my magic insurance card I was spared the entirety of the bill, but come on. Is this really necessary?
For $1,005 (less my $35 deductible) of imaginary fairy money I was treated to the best that the UPMC health care system had to offer, including:
- A 1 minute conversation with the receptionist
- 45 minutes in the waiting area, complete with Jerry Springer on the television and an old man who made sure that all in attendance knew that he was “92 YEARS OLD” and that “MY PIPES ARE CLOGGED”
- 8 minutes with the billing lady
- 45 more minutes in the waiting area, old man, Montel, and nurses who thought it was a good idea to yell last names from the next room instead of getting up and walking ten steps to call someone in
- 4 minutes with a nurse (?) who typed in “LEFT ANKLE INJURY, RUNNING”, “BOSTON”, and “TUESDAY” on my chart.
- 30 minutes in the waiting area
- 10 minutes with the X-ray technician who, when I asked if he wanted to see my ankle or at least have it unwrapped, laughed and said, “Why would I want to see that?”
- 15 minutes in a curtained-off bay in the emergency room that smelled like dirty diapers
- 5 minutes with a nurse who pronounced my ankle sprained, wrapped it with a new Ace Bandage, and gave me an ice pack
- 20 minutes in said bay, diaper smell still present despite the appearance of a custodian who emptied the garbage
- 5 minutes of answering exit interview questions with a nurse, who graciously showed me the X-ray of my ankle after I asked to see it
All in all, a good time. I really think I got my imaginary fairy money’s worth.
Go where the money is
Lucky us. We seem to have moved into the nexus of the grocery store universe. The forthcoming opening of a Trader Joe’s brings the number of grocery stores to which we can easily walk or bike to four. Baked goods, a deli, produce (organic and conventional), a coffee bar, and even free Wi-Fi. We’re surrounded by choices.
Meanwhile, one of the city’s neighborhoods most in need of help is reduced to looking forward to a sorry excuse for a real store or relying on the promises of a gambling operation looking to brown-nose their way into the city and take over land from the same disadvantaged population.
Some choice.
Why, why, why?
President Bush’s response to a question inquiring if he will see Al Gore’s new movie, An Inconvenient Truth, isn’t surprising, but it irritates me nonetheless. How much more of an arrogant prick can one be?
How did someone with absolutely no intellectual curiosity get elected to the most powerful office in the world?
No need to answer that; it’s merely rhetorical. I think I know.
Shameless politicking
A local state senator has taken it upon himself to propose a measure to suspend the Pennsylvania state gas tax until October 31. He claims that “people can barely afford to travel to work” and that they “end up spending a large portion of their paycheck on gas.” My heart bleeds. Really.
It’s an pretty bad piece of legislation given the loss of revenue to the state and, even more so, the complete and utter lack of any action to combat our oil-fueled hedonistic culture. And I said as much (in less crazy terms) in a letter to the editor.
But what really gets me is Mr. Logan’s attempt to “humanize” the issue by telling the story of a 7-year old blind boy who won’t be able to get to summer camp because of the expense of getting him there.
Well, I feel for you and your son Ms. Travisano, but you’re being used as a shill.
Using the magic of the Internet, I discovered that such a trip to camp is approximately 14 miles. Round-trip, 28. We’ll round it up to 30 for good measure and to take into account the stop-and-go nature of the trip.
Let’s pretend that camp is 5 days a week, all summer long. June 1 to August 31. I’m sure it’s not. But I like to be on the high side of things. That’s about 70 days, give or take a few.
All said, that’s about 2100 miles of driving. Assuming a fuel efficiency of 20 mpg, one will use about 105 gallons of gas to make all of the trips.
The current fuel tax is 31.2 cents a gallon. For 105 gallons of gas, you will be paying about $33 in tax. Amortized over 70 days, that comes out to about fifty cents per day.
I don’t presume to know the details of anyone’s finances (beyond what is publicly available), but come on. Half a dollar a day? I’ll pay you $33 not to be used as the face of a piece of ridiculous legislation.
