Hammock Day; Dogs, Dogs and Dogs; FMMP: Sicko

[grrgoyl]

Hammock Song
(lyrics by TeryandElaine)

Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay
Today is Hammock Day
I got it on eBay
The shipping was delayed

Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay
The colors are so gay
I love it anyway
Caribbean getaway!!!

Yes, it's here. It was technically here Saturday, but instead I got the dreaded peach slip saying "Parcel too big for locker. And I know it's Saturday and you're probably home, but it's hot and this is my last stop so I can't be arsed to climb three flights of stairs to deliver what you could easily drive to the post office to pick up yourself on Monday."

Which is what I did. And yes, the box is indeed too large for the locker. I could deal with that if not for the fact that the hammock itself was packed inside in a box 1/4 the size of the outer one, sliding around like a marble in a lunchbox. Why do you hate me, Collections Etc.? And why did you bother packing a catalog and a 10% off coupon for my next order? Cuz THAT ain't happening. So it was with the greatest pleasure and vindiction that I left what I felt was a truly deserved neutral feedback. Toy with ME, will you?

(Just checked the seller's feedback. They had the nerve to claim that they shipped the next day. So I left a followup to their followup. It doesn't matter, my feedback has already been moved to page 3 by the tidal wave of subsequent transactions, but I really, really hate liars.)

But enough of that unpleasantness. It's everything I hoped for and more. I've wanted a hammock forever, but Tery, being the Debbie Downer that she is, kept telling me it was impossible. See if I let HER sit in it (highly unlikely anyway, as she regards it as a deathtrap).

I swear she's made it her life's work to destroy all my happiness, like any good spouse. Look what she did with my dollies while I was peacefully dreaming of Snarry:

Notice how Harry is trying to let Gabrielle down gently, while Snape stares blankly into space hoping Xena will take the hint. Perverse (though I will grant you the respective scales work better with the girls).

~*~

Weekend at the kennels had some excitement, which I think would be best described with a monologue by Miss Jane Seymour from the Lifetime movie "Marry Me":


Beowulf, my first love




Logan the rottweiler, running a very close second. What can I say? I like my dogs big


And they like me. Kewit the akita, who couldn't be photographed outside his cage because the minute he gets access to me, he wraps his forelegs around my waist and his jaws around my arm. Disconcerting, sure, but he doesn't bite down


I like some little dogs. Sophie the min-pin. Adorable!


This dog was the excitement. Precious the American Eskimo, a breed Tery describes as "twitchy." She had a "Will Bite" sticker on her cage which I only took half seriously, like I do all of them (Beowulf always gets one too and he's never shown me the tiniest shred of aggression). We went out in the yard, everything was fine. I knelt down and she ran over to me to be petted, and I thought once again, "Those silly people and their 'Will Bite' stickers." Then we went back inside where she immediately hunkered down under the sink, and would not come out for love nor money. Offering my outstretched hand in friendship got me bared teeth, trying to loop a leash over her head resulted in vicious, grizzly-like snarling and snapping. I called Tery in a panic, who reminded me about the rabies pole that I've never had to use before. That worked like a charm, but when I was going to leave a note about my adventure, Tery wanted me to omit the bit about the pole. Why? "Because I don't want you to look like a wimp," she said. I could see her point: big scary dog like Beowulf doesn't faze me, little tiny Precious has me pulling out the big guns. I did anyway, since I don't particularly care what those mother scratchers on the day shift think of me.



~*~

Last but not least, I finally got to catch a movie with the resplendent dopshoppe, though it wasn't 1408 as we had hoped, but rather Sicko.

I should stop watching Michael Moore movies. They make me so ANGRY, and this one was no exception. I don't have health insurance. I'm one of the millions of Americans who, as Moore puts it, gambles on my continued good health. And if I were considering getting individual insurance, I would have second thoughts even before seeing this movie. At least once a week I type a letter from a doctor begging an insurance company to reconsider their denial of coverage for a patient's necessary treatment. Tery has insurance but never sees a doctor, terrified of being billed anyway. Insurance companies devote all their energy to finding the flimsiest of excuses to deny coverage, actually rewarding employees the more denials they send out. It's positively sickening. My question is, how do these people sleep at night?



Fortunately Moore focuses on the positive rather than the negative (sort of). After briefly lingering on how shitty things are here, he zips off to look more closely at countries with universal health care, Canada, England, France and Cuba. He gets lots of man-on-the-street interviews that dispel the myths our government relies on to scare people away from the issue: that people wait months to be seen, that they receive shoddy Band-Aid medicine, that doctors earn less than our teachers to save on hospital costs, that doctors are only allowed to perform a certain number of procedures a year. All untrue.

More than that: In France everyone, even part-time employees, receives mandatory 5 weeks of paid vacation a year -- even more if you get married or have a baby. Unlimited sick days, because "How can you put a limit on how many days to be ill? If you're sick, you're sick." New mothers get a government-paid nanny for 6 months to help out, and doctors make free house calls.

What's their secret? One pipe-smoking old Brit attributes it to an idea that I heard first in V for Vendetta: In Europe, governments are afraid of their people. Not so in America. In America, the poor are kept powerless by being kept hopeless so they have no motivation to vote and try to gain some power (oh yes, and of course the whole disenfranchisement thing). Crooked politicians (like Hillary Clinton) are bought by insurance and pharmaceutical lobbyists so there's no guarantee that the guy you're voting for IS the right guy. It's a very slippery slope.

I think one of the biggest problems is that America refuses to learn the lesson that other countries already put into practice: the value of preventative medicine. In England, doctors are rewarded for getting their patients to quit smoking and for lowering their blood pressure. Imagine that! Over here, they just throw more pills at you, which suits Lilly and Bristol Meyers Squibb shareholders just fine.

I'm sure there was some manipulative cinematography used. When filming the international segments the lighting was bright, the music cheerful and lilting. When we inevitably return to the United States, he again uses gritty documentary-style filming and somber music. As if the subject matter isn't depressing enough; his next story is about the most nightmarish scenario imaginable, patients who can't pay their bill stuck in a taxi and dumped on the street still wearing a paper hospital gown.

From there it's onto the climax of the film, Moore trying to get the same top notch care for uninsured 9/11 rescue workers that's enjoyed by al Qaeda detainees at Guantanamo Bay. That's a dead end of course, but they are seen at a Cuban hospital, where the doctors are sympathetic to their plight and shaking their heads in disbelief at the piss-poor way a supposed superpower like America treats its citizens. It was during this segment that I learned (and I hope it's not a secret) that dopshoppe is just as big a softie as I am and actually cries when she sees something sad or moving. Quite unlike the T-1000 unit I live with.



There might be some embellishment of the truth going on, some sensationalism in an effort to prove his point. But as MyFriendDeb says, the opposite side can't come up with a very convincing argument to prove he's wrong. Moore's movies all have two things in common: they make me hate America. Make me hate it with a bitter, acid-burning hatred, make me want to leave it if I had the means. Moore loves America. But just like you love your longtime partner or spouse despite their flaws, that doesn't mean you wouldn't rather have some of those flaws fixed. I think that's how Moore feels about America.

The other element they share is that they're only watched by people who are already sympathetic to his issues. Preaching to the converted, as they say. I came away from Fahrenheit 9/11 absolutely steadfast in my conviction that there was no way in hell Bush would be re-elected, and we all know how unhappily that history lesson ended. So I think pessimistically that this movie will do very little to change anything either. The rich will keep getting richer and the poor will keep getting angrier but remain paralyzed.

I did take one lesson away from the movie: Life is better for everyone when we all take care of each other. So when I saw a homeless man begging on the corner on my way home, I gave him two dollars, something I never, ever do (mostly because I don't want them spending it on booze). He looked me deep in the eyes, saluted me and thanked me profusely. I thought maybe I'd start carrying cash just to have some to give to every person I saw begging on the street, but then I remembered I'm not really that well off myself. If I were, I would though.