Zuska is the kick-ass alter-ego of Suzanne E Franks. When not dispensing Zuska's wisdom, Suzanne can often be found gardening, reading, or having one of her thrice-weekly migraines.
Sb/DonorsChoose Drive
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At Women in Science, the blogs are categorized by background of the blogger and/or blog topic. You'll also want to read the Scientiae carnivals - you'll frequently discover new and interesting blogs that way. You could check outLet's All Have A Party! for a list of birthdays of notable women in science and engineering - additions courtesy of Penny! Thanks, Penny! Or, you could visit Women in Science and check the nifty calendar widget there, courtesy of the Google calendar created by Miss Prism!
If you have not yet figured out why you shoud not be using terms like "hard science" and "soft skills", then you absolutely need to read Telling Stories About Engineering: Group Dynamics and Resistance to Diversity in NWSA Journal v. 16 No. 1, 2004 (Re)Gendering Science Fields.
You should also read They Blinded Me With Science: Misuse and Misunderstanding of Biological Theory, an excellent critique of Thornhill and Palmer's nonsense about rape as an evolutionary strategy. You can find it in Burack and Josephson's must-read tome, Fundamental Differences: Feminists Talk Back to Social Conservatives.
Support the Mautner Project for Lesbians With Cancer! "The Mautner Project improves the health of lesbians, bisexual, and transgender women who partner with women, and their families, through advocacy, education, research, and direct service. [The Mautner Project envisions] a healthcare system that is guided by social justice and responsive to the needs of all people."
When my mother was a little girl, my grandfather would drive her - almost all the way - to the dentist in Point Marion, PA. They would stop and park on the Greene County side of this bridge, and walk across to save the ten-cent toll on cars. Money was that tight.
Mom always said it was bad enough to have to go to the dentist without having to walk across that bridge in the bargain.
The bridge is just a few years younger than my mother, and you can see in the photo, which I took last week, that it is not in very good shape. It was already not in very good shape when I was a young girl. I was afraid of all bridges, and this one in particular. Every time we drove across it (it was no longer a toll bridge by then) I scrunched myself as far down in the car as I could and hid until we were safely on the other side.
Here's what it's like to cross it from the Point Marion (Fayette County) side to the Greene County side:
When I went to see Mom this past weekend, I found out that the new bridge, which has been under construction along side the old one for the past year, has finally been completed. Destruction of the old one, a three-phase process, was slated to begin this past Monday morning. The parking lot of Mom's assisted living home would provide a good view of the bride blow-up and Mom wanted to see it. This meant that I would have to get up extra early and take a very circuitous route to get to the assisted living home. A trip that normally took 15 minutes from the family home would instead take almost one hour, because of course the road over the new bridge would be closed during the bridge destruction. Nevertheless I promised Mom I would try to be there in time to get her outside to see the show.
Inquiring minds want to know: what's a feminist activist, and how should she dress?
My last post has raised a lot of discussion for people about the nature of feminism and feminists. There are questions about litmus tests and whether Zuska applies them. I thought it best to take a moment or too to assuage some of your curiosity and anxiety, in the form of a series of multiple-choice questions or statements. Alas, there is no answer sheet, except the one provided by your own pre-existing (mis)conceptions and biases. Enjoy.
Subtitle: It's really cool when feminists can help me advance my personal interests, as long as nobody sees me talking to them, 'cause, you know, they're ugly.
Over at Isis's place, Victoria writes that she does not wish to be sexually harassed at scientific conferences, no matter what she is wearing. She does not want to feel responsible for controlling men's poor behavior through her sartorial choices.
Zuska is on board with that.
Victoria also writes that she wants "to maintain the feeling of being a sexy, feminine woman without sacrificing the science".
Zuska is less sure what this means. I mean, theoretically, there is not any actual conflict between doing science and being any sort of woman, sexy or unsexy, "feminine" or "unfeminine", whatever the hell feminine actually means.
Not that it matters much with this dreadful film, but if you're worried about spoilers, don't read this post till you've seen the movie. You've been warned. Proceed past the jump at your own risk. Movie trailer can be found here.
I spent part of today visiting with an elderly relative who fought in the Korean War. That time in his life was clearly on his mind, as, when I stopped in to see him, he had been looking over some old photos from that era, including some of him in uniform.
He recounted some of his experiences to me. One near-death experience came about as a result of him being assigned to be the driver for an officer, "the worst job in the world" according to him. He said that although he had been driving all sorts of vehicles all over the place ever since he'd been in the Army, including tanks, he was now required to take a driving test to qualify for this new job. "That Army was crazy!" he said.
It was winter, and the temperature was ten below zero. But the test had to be done. The Jeep with plastic sides was frozen over and he could barely see out the windshield. The sergeant assigned to test his driving ability ordered him to drive toward a particular area, which necessitated that he cross over a small airstrip in the bottom of the narrow valley. He paused before the airstrip and looked out the windshield as best he could (the plastic door being frozen over), then proceeded. The sergeant began yelling at him that he had not looked carefully enough, so he slammed on the brakes and forced open the frozen-over door - just in time to make solid eye-contact with the pilot of a small plane bearing down on them. The pilot was doing his damnedest to pull that plane up in the sky and it just barely cleared the jeep. My relative said, "if we'd been in a truck, it would have taken the top off of it!" He said he would never forget seeing that pilot's face. The sergeant was so frightened that finally all he could say was "turn this thing around and let's go back!" My relative finally got up the nerve to ask, somewhat hopefully, "does this mean I've failed the test?" But no! The sergeant passed him, in a sort of "we will never speak of this again" manner.
I have not recounted this story as well as my relative told it to me, but tried to capture the spirit of it. When he was telling it to me, I could feel the cold of that day, and the surprise and terror he felt upon forcing open that Jeep door and finding a plane bearing down on him.
This was not my relative's only bad experience with planes during the Korean war. He was on several very bad transport flights in bad weather, including one where he was so grateful to have finally landed, only to have the pilot say "brace yourselves, boys. We have to go back up." Seems they had detoured on their way to Seoul in order to pick up a newspaper for a general. Oh, my relative said, how I wanted to strangle that general!
His journey back to the States was by sea, but from seaport to nearer home he had to travel again on a small plane over the Rockies, again in bad weather. His bad experiences with planes in wartime left him with a lifelong fear of flying that he has never been able to overcome - he has never been on a plane since.
This is sad for many reasons, but right now it makes me very, very sad, because he needs to have a complicated surgical procedure done, and he needs to have it done at a hospital near where his sister lives, so she can care for him afterward. His sister lives a good eight to ten hour drive from where he does. She is not well enough to drive and get him. He is too afraid to get on a plane and fly to her. The reason he needs the procedure is the same reason that makes a drive of this duration extremely difficult, dangerous, and perhaps near impossible for him to undertake. I asked him if he thought he could fly there if he took sedatives and/or anti-anxiety medication and had someone accompany him and he said no - there are no direct flights, and the prospect of two flights was just too much to contemplate. I do not think my own health would allow me to do a drive of this duration or I'd drive him there myself. And of course, this being rural America, there are no bus or rail lines that he could choose to use.
I don't think the VA can be much help in this because his medical issue is the result of an injury years ago in the coal mines, not related to his military service (I don't know if they would be able to be of any help in any case). I am still trying to figure out how I might help him get to the medical care he needs.
I have an acquaintance who works in what some of you professorial types jokingly refer to as the dark side - administration. Ha ha ha. Yeah, I was an administrator in academia myself, you know, and let me tell you, you should be grateful to your administrators, if only for the fact that if they didn't spend their days attending all those meetings, you'd have to do it yourself. Somebody's gotta do that administrative crap while you're out there doing the whizbang gollygee fun stuff in the labs.
My acquaintance knows both sides of the story, for she herself is a tenured full professor in the field of -ology. The type of administrative position she has now is a standard issue administrative position, and she's got to deal with all the usual administrative stuff. She's also, in the normal run of her daily business, got to deal with managing diversity.
Recently she reported to me the following:
I just spent half an hour talking to a male department head about one of his untenured women faculty members, who had been in to talk to me about what she perceives as unequal treatment by the head. I talked about how perceptions are important even though he feels as though he is being fair. I talked about accumulation of disadvantage. I talked about how if
they ever want to diversify their department it is important to have not just successful but
happy female and minority faculty members.
And at the end of the half hour, I think that he walked out convinced that he was right and everything was fair and hunky dory and he need only apologize for one kerfuffle that involved [one particular incident].
My work here is obviously not done, but I am not hopeful that it can be done. Worst of all, this...department head [is] a younger guy with (I think) a professional wife...the kind we hope that get it and are our allies.
FSA is not new to the business of dealing with diversity issues and trying to educate her colleagues. She is quite an expert in this area. So it's not that she doesn't know how to talk to people about this stuff.
It's just that she is tired, oh so very tired, of banging her head against the giant wall built of Nice Guys Who Just Don't Get It. The guys who listen, and then say "Okay, I'm sorry you got so upset over that." The people who are all for including women and minorities, as long as nothing substantive about longstanding departmental culture really has to change. The folks who think that if women are not being accosted in the hallways and hit up for sexual favors in the lab, then everything must be, well, hunky dory. The scientists who think that there is absolutely nothing that social science can teach them about how to create a better, more equitable scientific culture. The Nice Guy Knuckleheads who believe with all the faith that a creationist believes in an Intelligent Designer that Science is a Meritocracy.
FSA, I feel your pain, and if I could I would go right now and puke on your Nice Guy Department Head's shoes. But I have the feeling he'd just look up in bewilderment and say, "Now why in the world would you do that? I'm such a nice guy!"
You should never, ever criticize something a New Atheist says about science and religion. Never tell them maybe it's not the best idea in the world to just go on about science/evolution + religion in whatever way, at whatever time, in whatever manner, for whatever reasons. In fact, you cannot criticize the speech of New Atheists even if your goal is not to tell them to shut up, but to suggest that they might get their message across better and more effectively if they tried delivering it in a different manner than the one they've been using, because suggestions like that are CENSORSHIP and it is telling them to SHUT UP and that is WRONG and MEAN.
If you have no idea what I am talking about just Google any of the following in combination: Mooney, Kirshenbaum, PZ Myers, Unscientific America. Be warned, it is not for the faint of heart.
On the other hand, if you are not a New Atheist, and you want to speak about Science and Religion, you might want to choose your words pretty carefully. People might question why in the world you have been allowed to blog on ScienceBlogs. They might question your scientific credentials. They might call you a word-twisting intellectually dishonest buffoon. They will offer nuanced critiques of your writing such as: pathetically wrong and mind-numbingly boring.
I am amused at the outrage caused by one of my newest Sciblings, David Sloan Wilson, who writes the blog Evolution for Everyone. The dude's not shy - he launched himself at Scienceblogs with a post on Science as a Religion that Worships Truth as its God. What's behind all the sputtering anger? I mean, this dude is not the first person ever to posit such notions. Why are everybody's knickers in such a knot? C'mon, you can't pretend that idea isn't out there and doesn't have some serious resonance. And I'm talking about more than "high school debate team" level, as one of his commenters complained. Let's review.
The whole month of October has gone by, and none of the things I promised myself I would finally get around to writing about this month have appeared on my blog. They haven't even made it out of my cranium into rough draft form on my computer. I didn't even manage to get a post up exhorting you all to open your wallets for the good cause of DonorsChoose 2009 Social Media Challenge (though there's still one day left should you be so inspired!) I managed somehow to get my giving page set up (and a few of you stumbled across it and donated, with absolutely no help from me - bless your hearts!)
If I could use one word to describe my blogging over the last year or so, it would be "inconsistent". Inconsistent in frequency, topic, quality, and sense of direction or purpose. I start out with a good idea, like blogging my way through The Gender Knot (which, by the way, I still intend to pick back up and work on again) and then am not able to continue.
Part of this bloggus interruptus is due, of course, to the migraines, but increasingly it is due to the sapping of my resources - time, emotional and mental energy - that comes from attending so closely on a daily basis to my mother's financial and health care issues. I've thought for a long time of trying to describe what this is like, but of course doing so takes time and concentration and focus that I don't normally have, because my time and emotional/mental/physical energy is drained through daily struggles with seemingly endless, always tedious, mind-numbingly little, stupid details. Any one of the things I have to do is small and takes not much time. But they all add up over time, and each little struggle carries with it its own special humiliations and defeats. Here I'm going to try and describe a little of what goes on in the mind of someone charged with managing the care of an elderly person.
The "meat-for-sex" hypothesis appeared to be flaccid. And yet, strangely, there were few sensationalist news reports touting evidence of bromance among our evolutionary cousins.
Women & Science/Technology Policy Seminar in Washington, DC
The Public Leadership Education Network (PLEN) will be holding its Women & Science/Technology Policy Seminar January 4-8, 2010 for women science majors who want to explore what life is like as a science advisor.
This is a one-of-a-kind opportunity for women students to discover a different way to professionally apply their scientific and technological knowledge - in a career developing public policy. The seminar teachers are women scientists in diverse areas of government and the private sector, including: White House science advisors, legislative staff in Congress, Institute directors at NIH, corporate lobbyists and scientists, and nonprofit advocates. These women immerse the students in the major issues of the day, guide them through the realities of policy making, and help them discover if they want to become part of the process.
Seminar registration DEADLINE is November 20, 2009. Visit this site for more information and on-line registration. This seminar is underwritten by Abbott, which makes $200 scholarships available to a limited number of students.
Every person at birth should be issued a big plastic jug. When people become ill, they should tape their most endearing photos and a brief description of their illnesses to their plastic jugs. Then all they have to do is display the official containers at a local pizza shop - or something similar - and problem solved. More seriously ill people can apply to receive more big plastic jugs. I'm pretty sure that Sen. Coburn (R-OK) is planning to introduce this plan in response to "Obamacare" when the Senate returns from the district work period. I for one look forward to codifying our status as a nation of desperate beggers.
That comment really stuck with me. I'm sure we've all seen these types of containers at one place or another, and tossed some money into them here and there. After reading Robin's comment, I thought maybe I'd start photographing them whenever I run across them. Of course I'd need to have my camera with me - though now that I have a new iPhone (purchased as an MMD - Mom Management Device), it's much easier.
So herewith, my first offering of Big Plastic Jug Photos. If you are so inclined, take a photo of one in your neighborhood, and send it to me by email. Be sure to include a bit of info - general geographic location, what type of establishment it was found in.
My first field sighting was in my hometown, at the post office community bulletin board:
The next one came on another trip home. Just off the Bedford exit of the Pennsylvania turnpike is a combination gas station/conveniencestore/MdDonald's. It was on the counter of the MdDonald's that I found this big plastic jar.
The last one in the current batch of offerings was found in a small convenience store about halfway between my hometown and Point Marion, PA, that used to be known as the "9 to 9 store" because of its hours. I did not capture (entirely) in this photo the picture of the sweet little toddler with her lacy suncap and strawberry pink dress because I didn't have the heart to plaster her photo all over my blog. Nor did I have the heart to ask the person behind the counter exactly why we were being asked to purchase ribbons on poor Callie's behalf. I guessed cancer, or some similar devastating childhood misfortune, along with the usual story of parents working at low-wage jobs that did not provide insurance.
So there you have it. My first installment. I plan to keep taking pictures if I can, and I encourage you to as well. Even better, contact your senator and/or congressperson, and ask him or her if they think this is how those struggling on the margins of our society ought to be expected to get by when medical disaster strikes. Do we really want to be a Blanche DuBois nation, depending upon the kindness of strangers to pick up the tab for society's least fortunate?
Last night I was watching tv with Mr. Zuska and the loathsome Kohler's "Jo's Plumbing" commercial came on yet again.
Plumbing is one of those trades that have been traditionally dominated by men. Women have struggled to gain access to these well-paying jobs. It is a job that takes a women out, often on her own, into the houses of strangers, where she might be vulnerable to sexual assault, not to mention the harassment and discrimination she might have to put up with on the job from colleagues.
In this commercial the young plumber is, of course, hot and sexy, dressed in tight clothing to show off her body (unlike what a real plumber might actually wear). She shows by a sultry glance at the average-looking d00d coming out of his house that she, though at work and on the way to a plumbing job, is certainly available to and interested in him. Earning a living will not get in the way of her sexual availability for any random guy she happens to pass on the street! This woman is dark-haired and vaguely ethnic/exotic - perhaps Latina. Average D00d, though clearly on his way somewhere, is overcome by lust and runs back into his house to try stopping up his toilet - which is, as all women agree, a surefire mating strategy. As he is failing miserably in his quest, a non-exotic, non-sexily dressed, blond woman, presumably his wife or partner, wanders by the bathroom door and catches him at his ridiculous labor. Average D00d looks up, caught, sheepish. Thus ends the commercial.
The text of the commercial is obviously the amazing flushing power of the Kohler toilet, but what, exactly, are we to make of the commercial's subtext? Obviously, we aren't meant to think much about it at all in the first place - it's just supposed to function as background. But what sort of background? Average D00d is the buffoonish husband of so many sitcom families, Blond Woman is his long-suffering wife. What does Jo the Plumber signify? Women's sexuality, dark and mysterious, driving men to do ridiculous things, to lose control over themselves and their planned agendas - to lose responsibility for themselves. Hawt women want it - all the time - even when they're working! So what if you are in a relationship - it is perfectly reasonable to lose control over yourself at the sight of a Hawt Exotic Woman Who Totes Wants You, You Know She Does.
Something else about this commercial's subtext: it lets us know who the commercial takes as its audience. And that would be, heterosexual white men, who can identify with Average D00d in his lust for exoticized Jo, and then admire the masterful performance of the Kohler toilet, shown to manfully handle every (clean and unblemished) item thrown at it. You gotta hand it to the Kohler ad folks. Here they are, trying to sell a product whose purpose is to efficiently and swiftly dispose of piss and shit, and they've done it by connecting it with hawt sexy exotic women. Hawt sexy exotic women are, of course, not the same as those illegal immigrant wetbacks that are stealing our jobs. You know, like cleaning our toilets, something done more and more frequently these days by illegal immigrants.
I would bet that most bathroom renovations - the market Kohler might be trying to reach - are under the guidance and decision-making of women. It seems like it would make more sense to create a commercial that would appeal to women's interests, and that doesn't treat women like sex objects, but then, I don't get paid the big bucks at the ad agencies. And sex narratives like the one in the Kohler ad are so ingrained in the consciousness of all of us that they may work equally well on women as on men. I'm sure we'll be able to tell by the comments. How long till someone shows up to accuse me of having no sense of humor, of reading too much into a "simple" commercial (like any commercial is ever simple), and all the other familiar, tired, tiresome complaints one hears whenever one dares to notice the miasma of gender smog permeating our lives?
You can have a rational soul like Laura provide a comparison of her personal experience with the U.S. and Canadian health care systems, like this:
Let's cut the crap and put it this way:
System #1: When I worked in the US, patients would come in and present their insurance cards; we would call the insurance company and wait on hold for 30 minutes (if we didn't get disconnected) to verify that they had officially chosen me as their primary care physician. They might pay a copay, or they might pay a percentage of the fee, for which they would be billed after the insurance had done its part. I had to write notes that described a certain number of body parts, or a certain number of aspects of a particular body part, or a certain number of descriptive terms for the symptoms of the one or more body parts, all of which would be added up to determine how much the visit was worth. The bill would go to my billing service which took 8% of receipts, since the hardware and software for electronic billing with dozens of different boxes to be filled in, but filled in differently for each of the dozens of different insurance plans which my office participated in, was too onerous to be handled by a solo practice. Then the "explanation of benefits" would arrive, and I might be told that the insurance had paid, say 80% of the charge that the insurance said they would pay (as opposed to 80% of the charge I was actually charging), and I had to bill the patient for the 20% which, even though it might at this point cost more in staff time and postage to send the bill than the bill was worth, had to be done or I would be accused of fraud, since not billing the balance would mean that my charges weren't really what I said they were, although the insurance wasn't paying what I said the charges were anyway. Or maybe the insurance company would say that they wouldn't pay because it was a pre-existing condition, or it wasn't a covered benefit, or we hadn't received prior authorization. Or they might want copies of the records before they would decide whether to pay. Or they might decide that I was no longer one of their participating providers, and the patient would have to go find another doctor, and I would have to copy the chart to send to the new doctor, for which I would not be paid. If I needed to send the patient to a specialist, we would have to look up which specialist were participating providers for that particular insurance, and get prior authorization. Certain tests also required prior authorization. All of this required hours on the phone. And sometimes the specialist would be a participating provider, but the specialist would be in a non-participating hospital, or would send the patient for xrays which ended up being read by a non-participating radiologist, or sometime the radiologist was participating but the xray machine was not.
And then there were the patients who did not have insurance.
System #2: Now I work in British Columbia, where everyone has a "care card." When they come in, we take down the number on the care card. I can send the patient to any specialist. There is one form to fill out for billing, and the fees are negotiated between the government and the medical society. There are no copays, no deductibles, no percents. I don't have to employ an army of people to sit on hold with insurance companies.
And everyone is insured.
And you're telling me that tinkering with System #1 (let's make it MORE complicated!) is preferable to System #2.
Right.
And you will still get this kind of nutter response from those who have been brainwashed by the rightwing wackaloons into fearing socialism and Obamacare and who think that the fucked up system we have now is somehow The Best Health Insurance in the World!TM
Giving me you take on your personal experiences in "system 1" and "system 2" is fine Laura, but cannot be confirmed. Let's work with facts that can be knowable, Ok?
But...I read both system 1 and 2, and after all your rambling you're just telling me that system 2 is "easier" so we should do it that way. NOTHING that is worth doing right is "easy" And throwing money at a government program is the "easy way out".
Yes, dining room table, let's by all means work with facts that can be knowable. Not that a real person's actual lived experience in two different healthcare systems would be anything like a knowable fact, now would it? Oh no. Not when your fevered brain can still toss out pithy statements like "nothing that is worth doing right is 'easy' ", in lieu of actually grappling with the information in front of you.
What the hell is wrong with you people?
It's a pity we can't just seriously divide the country in two. On one side, all you people who don't want "socialism" can go and live without Medicare, municpal sewer systems, roads that are maintained by government funds, running water, fire departments, police departments, national/state/city parks, public libraries, and other such disgusting features of life under brownshirt Obamcare socialism. The rest of us commies will hunker down together in our socialist nightmare and finally craft a universal health care system to go along with the rest of evil socialist empire.
Two years ago I wrote about taking my mother to Cape Hatteras, and how great it was to have the use of a beach wheelchair that allowed my sister and I to take her right onto the beach. I wanted to call your attention to a comment recently left on that post by Jerry Nasello:
We thought you might like to know about how our little motorized beach wheelchair company is doing. We opened for business in April of this year. We rented a grand total of one motorized beach wheelchair in the month of April.
However, in the month of May we were booked solid for almost the entire month. In April we had a total of five chairs available for rentals. By June, we had eight chairs available for renting. We now have nine chairs and have been turning down reservations for almost 45 days.
We have plans for 20 chairs by spring of next year. We knew there was a definite need for this service. Just reading the story about your mother is convincing enough. When we were testing the prototype at the beach we came across many people who all knew someone who could take advantage of these wonderful chairs.
It is one thing to ride in a beach wheelchair being pushed by someone else. It is a totally different experience to drive the chair yourself. With a motorized chair, the driver experiences freedom and independence that is lacking with a manual chair.
We have met so many wonderful people with all different types of needs. We have learned a tremendous amount from these folks. We have learned to adjust our chairs so that our customers are comfortable. We can adjust the armrests, the foot rest, the location of the joystick, provide for oxygen, and we just added an umbrella option.
As our business begins to slow for the winter season, we plan to overhaul every chair. You would not believe the effects of the harsh environment on our chairs. We are constantly trying to improve the resistance of the chairs to this predicament.
We are totally committed to this endeavor and we invite any and all to experience the freedom and independence that a motorized beach wheelchair has to offer.
Check out their website, Beach Power Rentals! This is sooooooo amazing, and the kind of engineering technology that truly makes my heart skip a bit.
Zuska, I saw this story [about the carwash for the shooting victim] on MSNBC last night (9/1) (The Rachel Maddow Show). So at least the liberal-leaning national media has also noticed.
I suppose this falls under tootin' my own horn, but one of Rachael Maddow's producer's contacted me by email in response to my original post on this story. They wanted help in getting in touch with the young woman, which I could not do, but I did provide them with the link to the story done by local news outlet WPXI - which is excerpted in the segment on the 9/1 Maddow show.
So I want to thank you, my dear Zuskateers, for bringing YOUR attention to my blog post, and thus helping this story get told more widely in the mainstream media.
I'm disappointed that I have not been able to find a way to set up online donations, but maybe Maddow's story will help bring something into being.
What if that uninsured shooting victim wasn't a young woman shot by a misogynist, but a grumpy, sexist, racist old man with no friends who didn't attend church and was generally unliked by all his neighbours? He doesn't get helped out because of who he is? I doubt the feminists or the Presbyterians or whoever would be setting up a car wash to pay his bills.
An actual social safety net only cares that you are a citizen. That's pretty important.
While I am normally unmoved by the "oh noes! what about teh menz?" type comments (and I am pretty sure that the car wash was not organized by a bunch of hairy-legged feminazis), I could not agree more with the safety net sentiment. And, as Tim Foley notes in his Change.org post,
[The Bridgeville victim] was in the line of fire for arbitrary reasons. She was also left behind by our health care system for just-as-arbitrary reasons. And she is not the only one. There are many bullets in the world, literally and figuratively. As I type this, there are men and women who are victims of violence, victims of cancer, victims of disease, victims of accidents that could not be predicted, who are in the process of beating the odds but who are struck all over again with the terrifying question, "How on earth do I pay for this?"
How indeed. They certainly shouldn't have to chance relying on the kindness of strangers like commenter Jay_C:
The woman that the carwash is being held for aged out, and either chose not to buy insurance (she instead chose to pay to join a gym)...That is common. Or she had a preexisting condition. In the first situation, sometimes you roll the dice and the numbers aren't in your favor. In this specific case, I'd rather give her the money through personal through a car wash, or just through good old fashioned charity (get nothing in return), than through my money being wasted on a Government bureaucracy. At least I know my hard-earned money is going directly to the victim I want it to and not in the "big bucket" for everyone else, and I can't choose who it goes to.
Jay_C thinks the Bridgeville woman "chose" not to buy health insurance. What kind of choice is it, when you aren't employed, and available coverage is too expensive even for lots of people who are employed? Good luck for you if you happen to be the victim Jay_C deems worthy of support! Too bad for you if he figures you "should have" had insurance.
We are ALL victimized by a system in which it is just the luck of the draw whether or not you end up with semi-adequate health insurance coverage at the time you need it: if you happen to be rich enough to buy it, if you happen to be lucky enough to be employed in a job that provides it, if you happen to be old enough to have aged into the Medicare system. And if you are one of the ones who happens to be lucky enough to have the health insurance through your job: then, you just hold your breath hoping that you won't lose your job and thus your coverage.
P.S. To My Readers: I have been looking into whether there might be some way to set up online donations for the shooting victim without health insurance. There are some other people who are interested in this. If we are able to work anything out, I will let you know.
I have a friend. She has a daughter. While in college, the daughter was covered on the parents' health insurance policy.
Well, sorta. As part of her college program, the daughter had to do an internship. Hey, that's great! Great experience, maybe a great chance to get a permanent job! Except, as it turns out, the internship does not count as being a full time student for the purposes of health insurance.
My friends, being responsible parents, and additionally being parents with enough disposable income to afford it, took out a health insurance policy for their daughter. They thought they were doing the right and responsible thing for her. They did not want her to be without coverage should some unexpected and catastrophic event befall her (you know, like some sick fuck walks in to your fitness club....)
Well, as it turns out, they could have just saved their cash. My friend's daughter was unfortunately stricken with a completely unexpected, though non-life-threatening, medical condition. You might think this is the kind of thing that your health insurance would help you deal with, but you would be wrong.
In the contentious health care reform debate that has raged on lo these many months, one of the cries of protest we've heard has centered around how we might be infringing upon the rights of young, healthy American citizens. Young healthy people don't need to access the health care system the way old folks [who, we know, Obama wants to shovel in front of death panels] do! Young folks should not be forced to waste their precious dollars on health insurance premiums for coverage they don't really need just because you libruls think that would help bring down the cost for everybody else! That's SOCIALISM!!!!!!!!!! Next you'll be wanting to take mah gunz away!
Yes, by all means, let's talk about the relationship between guns and health insurance. Specifically, how available guns are for sick fucks who want to kill random women as punishment for the perceived sins of all women who have refused to date them. Versus, say, the lack of availability of health insurance for young women who have aged out of their parents' insurance policy and who have the bad luck to be gunned down by sick fucks who want to kill random women as punishment for...etc.
My sister is a member of the fitness club where that shooting took place. It was just chance that she was not there, and not in that fitness class, the night the shooting took place. My gratefulness for her safety has been tempered by my sadness for the women who were killed and injured there.
Well, just imagine my thoughts today when I talked to my sister, and she let me know what was going on for one of the women who was shot at the fitness club. The young woman had recently graduated college and therefore had "aged out" of coverage on her parents' health insurance. She did not have coverage provided through a job. I can't tell you why she didn't purchase coverage on the open market - because it was out of her financial reach, because she didn't think she needed it (being young and healthy), who knows, maybe she had a pre-existing condition that made it impossible for her to get it (see my next post). Whatever, she didn't have health insurance.
She is left with a hefty, hefty bill from the hospital due to the surgery and other treatment she needed because some sick fuck asshole came into her fitness club and shot her while she was minding her own business, exercising, trying to maintain her own health.
So her friends and family recently sponsored a friggin' car wash to raise funds to pay her hospital bills. Yes. A car wash.
My sister asked: what's the difference between throwing five or ten dollars into the can at the car wash to help this young woman out, versus what we might be doing if we all paid a bit in taxes to make sure that everyone had adequate health insurance coverage? If you are willing to help out at events like this, why don't you want to help out with your taxes to make sure that people don't have to go around begging for help to pay for their hospital bills? Why, she asked, can't we all just acknowledge that we are all in this together, and that we need to take care of each other?
Here's my guess: you throw ten bucks in the can at the young shooting victim's car wash, and you feel virtuous; you feel you have helped someone who "deserves" your help. You are participating in the mythology of "we all take care of ourselves and we don't depend on gov'mint handouts". But, you pay taxes to insure that everyone has access to adequate health insurance coverage, and the rightwing nutjobs convince you that you are a dupe who has been made to fund the lazy, brown- and black-skinned no-good-niks who are destroying America as you know it, and who will thank you for your efforts by raping your daughters and looting your homes if given half a chance.
In my next posts I will talk more about the myth of young healthy people not needing insurance, and about the myth of "being able to take care of ourselves".
The other night I made a chive sauce from a recipe off the internet (I regret that I did not keep track of the source) that was just beautiful.
One cup minced chives. Saute in some olive oil. I sauteed them until they were starting to get just on the verge of crispy, almost like frizzled leeks, but not that far gone. Just nicely sauteed. Add one quarter cup chicken broth. Then the recipe called for 1.5 cups cream but I only used one cup. I just couldn't imagine pouring in 1.5 cups of cream...anyway, I added it slowly, a little at time, with much stirring, over a lowish heat. Then stirred and stirred for some time...it just looked like a mess of chives, oil, and cream...then suddenly, whooosh! it just frothed into a sauce! The moment when it became sauce was just lovely. Mr. Z was watching over my shoulder and as I cooed with pleasure over my achievement he called me Julia. Heh. Not really, but it was indeed a lovely sauce, and we had it over boiled new potatoes from the farmer's market and I am telling you it was so delicious and delicately flavored, you just didn't give a crap about all the calories you were shoveling into your mouth.
For the non-veggies among you, I can report that the sauce was also amazing over very lightly seasoned grilled chicken breast. That and a salad of chopped cucumber, heirloom tomato (pineapple tomato), and minced sweet onion with cherry balsamic dressing made dinner. Followed by tons of fresh fruit for dessert - peach, nectarine, pear.
I love, love, love summer and the farmer's market!
Zuska is the kick-ass alter-ego of Suzanne E Franks. When not dispensing Zuska's wisdom, Suzanne can often be found gardening, reading, or having one of her thrice-weekly migraines.
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