A Tip Without An Iceberg?

Whenever I get in discussions with Americans about healthcare, health insurance, and healthcare costs, I extoll the virtues of the Canadian system. In spite of all its flaws, by any empirical measure, Canadian Medicare produces better outcomes at far lower cost than the American system. But one of the points that always comes up is the influx of Canadians crossing the border to seek medical care that is either unavailable in Canada or the waiting time is too long. I'll even get this argument from medical professionals. I always ask how many Canadians they've treated, and they'll say, "Well none personally, but I know of a clinic in Bellingham that is flooded with Canadian patients." I ask for the name of the facility, and they can't remember it, or I ask for some statistical evidence, and they can never produce it. I've always said that Canadian medical refugees streaming across the border simply don't exist; that it's an urban legend promulgated by the US medical-industrial establishment. Well, I came across a study in Health Affairs that bolsters my argument. Here's an excerpt from the conclusion of the study:

A tip without an iceberg? This study was undertaken to quantify the nature and extent of use by Canadians of medical services provided in the United States. It is frequently claimed, by critics of single-payer public health insurance on both sides of the border, that such use is large and that it reflects Canadian patients’ dissatisfaction with their inadequate health care system. All of the evidence we have, however, indicates that the anecdotal reports of Medicare refugees from Canada are not the tip of a southbound iceberg but a small number of scattered cubes. The cross-border flow of care-seeking patients appears to be very small.

Bush really was (and probably still is) NUTS!

Did you get a load of this story?  While trying to put together a coalition to go to war in Iraq in 2003, Bush used the pre-millennial dispensationalist argument to try and convince Jacques Chirac that war was God's will. For the whole story, click the link.

Here's an excerpt:

In 2003 while lobbying leaders to put together the Coalition of the Willing, President Bush spoke to France's President Jacques Chirac. Bush wove a story about how the Biblical creatures Gog and Magog were at work in the Middle East and how they must be defeated.

In Genesis and Ezekiel Gog and Magog are forces of the Apocalypse who are prophesied to come out of the north and destroy Israel unless stopped. The Book of Revelation took up the Old Testament prophesy:

"And when the thousand years are expired, Satan shall be loosed out of his prison, And shall go out to deceive the nations which are in the four quarters of the earth, Gog and Magog, to gather them together to battle and fire came down from God out of heaven, and devoured them."

Bush believed the time had now come for that battle, telling Chirac:

"This confrontation is willed by God, who wants to use this conflict to erase his people's enemies before a New Age begins".

The Last Dog EVER in the Washington State Capitol Building

Megan and I, and of course Farley, took Waveguide down to Olympia this weekend for a couple of nights. I had never been to Olympia by water before, and the weather forecast was perfect, so it seemed like a good plan. For once, the weather gods were cooperative, and the weather was indeed perfect.

Olympia is a very good boating destination. There's a fabulous farmer's market not far from the waterfront, and lots of interesting shops and restaurants within easy walking distance. For those too lazy to walk, there is even a free shuttle that runs from the waterfront to the Capitol. Unfortunately, Farley wasn't allowed in the farmers' market, and he wasn't allowed on the shuttle bus, so we had a pleasant walk to the Capitol. I tied Farley up on the Capitol steps, and checked in the very nice lady at the desk, telling her that Farley was outside. Imagine my surprise when she said that I could bring Farley in with us. Since Farley is a pretty good dog who doesn't bark much, and since there wasn't much chewable amid all the granite and marble, we took Farley in with us. We checked out the rotunda and the various statues without difficulty. That was until we walked into the Senate gallery. Inside, a battle-ax tour guide demanded that we immediately get that dog out of HER building. We told her we had permission, and she demanded to know from whom. We told her, but she still insisted we leave IMMEDIATELY. 

So we did, but I stopped on the way out to give the nice lady at the desk a heads up that she was about to be chastised. She thanked me, and protested that she had asked her supervisor specifically about the dog policy. As she was telling me this, Farley decided that the half-decayed mussels he had scarfed down that morning at the dock (before I could stop him) would be taking a U-turn in his digestive tract. He threw up violently, leaving a 3' diameter pool of hot puke on the marble floor. I asked the nice lady if she had any paper towels. She didn't, but she was helpful enough no give me a mostly empty box of kleenex before heading to the bathroom to get some towels. So I proceeded to clean up the mess as best I could, using my bare hands to scoop the puke into one of Farley's poop bags. The nice lady arrived with some paper towels at about the time the scowling battle-ax appeared in the lobby, telling me that Farley had also made a mess by George Washington's bust. I went upstairs to find Megan (who had stopped at the washroom on the way out) cleaning up the mess.

We did a good job of cleaning up, and no harm was done, but I'm sure that Farley is the last dog EVER to set foot in the Capitol.

Random Thoughts

I haven't posted anything about the economic apocalypse for a while, and with markets apparently recovering, it seems like the worst is over. Eternal pessimist that I am, I think the world economy is just taking a break from the collapse mode for a while before continuing the collapse again. If you want to check out some historical market data in a user-friendly form, take a look at dshort.com. If history is any indicator, we're not out of the woods yet. I think that markets have recovered a bit mainly because of the trillions of dollars that the US government has printed. That money had to have some effect, but in the medium to long term, it's got to be inflationary. The US government is now borrowing or printing $.40 for every $1.00 it's spending. On any elemental or intuitive level or even theoretical level, how long can that be sustained? Chrysler has declared bankruptcy, and GM is not far off. The State of California is essentially bankrupt now that voters have rejected all of the ballot initiatives that were designed to stave it off for a while. And California is not the only state in trouble. If the federal government can bail out the banks, will it bail out the states too?  Is there any end to the bailouts? What will happen to governments and local economies all over the US when state and local governments start defaulting on their bonds? 

On the civil liberty, constitutional front, I'm not convinced that Obama is a whole lot better than Bush. He's just a better speaker in a more attractive package. Obama is trying to close Guantanamo, but he is also advocating indefinite preventative detention for some "terrorists" who the US government will not put on trial. How can this possibly pass any sort of constitutional muster? The best commentator on this and other legal matters has to be Glenn Greenwald at Salon.com. If you're at all interested in these issues, check out his arguments.  They are cogent, intellectually consistent, and quite readable.

But while the world is going to hell in a handcart (just where did that expression come from?), the weather is good, and the weekend is long. Therefore, Megan and Farley are going to join me on Waveguide for some fun and sun in the South Sound. That sounds a lot better than dwelling on all the negative news out there, doesn't it?

A French Water Dog

People are always stopping me and asking what kind of dog Farley is. I just can't bring myself to call him a woodle, so I've now resorted to telling them that he's a French Water Dog. People will either nod knowingly or raise an eyebrow skeptically. Then I'll say that his mother is a Poodle and his father is a wheaten tERRIER, and I like to call him a PERRIER, or as they say in French, a Perri-YAY. Or more simply, a French Water Dog. Sounds pretty classy to me.

I've been honing my delivery and timing, but so far the line seems to be working.

Ps. Actually there is a breed of French Water Dog, also known as a Barbet. But Wikipedia says there are only 47 of them in the USA, so I doubt that I'll ever run into a real one. 

The Great Right North

It's not often you see an article about Canada in the mainstream American press, so it's good to see an article praising Canada on the front page of the Washington Post. Americans would never admit it, but perhaps they can learn a lesson or two from my godless-faggot-loving-commie-pinko brethren up there.

Change we can believe?

For those of us who had high hopes for Obama, this last week has been tough. 

On Monday, his administration threatened to cut off intelligence to the British if a British court released details of the interrogation of Binyam Mohamed. Mohamed had spent six years in Guantanamo before being released in February of this year.  He is seeking redress in a British court for the rendition and torture he suffered in the war on terror. The British cooperated with the CIA and have the records of his interrogation, but the Americans have said they will cut off intelligence sharing with the Brits if those records are released.

On Tuesday, Obama appointed Stanley McChrystal as the commander of the Afghan war. McChrystal was deeply involved in the detention and torture of prisoners in Iraq at Camp Nama. When asked about Red Cross access to the camp, he is reported to have said, "...they just don't have access, and they won't have access, and they never will."

On Wednesday, Obama reversed himself and blocked the release of photographs of prisoner abuse in Iraq and Afghanistan.

On Friday, Obama once again reversed himself and announced plans for military tribunals for prisoners in Guantanamo.

Also, during Monday's hoopla and celebration surrounding the release of journalist Roxana Soberi from an Iranian prison, it was totally forgotten that journalists were and are still being held without trial by Americans. Sami al-Haj was a cameraman for Al-Jazeera until he was picked up by Americans in 2001.  He was finally released from Guantanamo in 2007, without charges ever being filed against him. In 2005, Bilal Hussein, an AP photographer, was detained by American troops in Mosul. He was imprisoned for two years without trial. After more than five months in detention, Ibrahim Jassam continues to be held by Americans in Iraq, even though an Iraqi court has acquitted him of any crime. The list goes on and on. So much for freedom of the press.

Obama certainly inherited a major mess from Bush, and no one thought it would be easy, but actions like these are hard to reconcile with Obama's campaign slogan, "Change we can believe."

I Quit

Well, after three weeks on the job as an ESL assistant instructor at a local refugee center, I quit. That doesn't mean I've given up on that line of work; it just means I'll do it elsewhere. My experience at this refugee center was a bit of a disappointment, to say the least. In a previous post, I described my first day on the job.  It didn't get any better as time went on. I had hoped that the classes would have a bit more structure, and that I would have a better defined role. I had hoped that I would meet with the instructor before class, going over what we wanted to accomplish that day, and what my role would be that day. I had hoped that I would become part of the team helping our "customers" and developing a bond with the staff. I was hoping that I could learn some good teaching techniques and build on the things I learned in Oxford TESL Seminar. None of those things ever happened. Our "customers" are enthusiastic and willing to learn, but I think the program there is letting them down.

So in the end, I decided I wasn't doing them or me any good, so I quit. 

Frelard RV's

Something I've noticed over the last few months in the Frelard area (the quasi-industrial area between Fremont and Ballard) is all the RV's and trailers parked on the streets. I drive through this area all the time on the way to the Olympic Athletic Club or to my boat or to the Fred Meyer. I've come to the conclusion that these RV's are not owned by tourists who've stopped by to shop at Freddies. They're homeless.

I don't know if the City of Seattle has given these guys a bit of a pass for overnight parking or exactly what the deal is, but it's a bit tragic that these folks are reduced to living on the street. I guess that in the strata of homeless society, these guys are at the top of the heap. They're in better shape than those who are sleeping in the bushes along the Ship Canal. At least they have a roof over their heads.

Farley and Boating and Babies

Yesterday was a beautiful day out here in the great Pacific Northwest. And it was about time too! So Farley and me and Megan and Caroline and friends decided to take advantage of those too-fleeting beautiful days by taking Waveguide out for a few hours. Farley had been on the boat many times before, but he'd never been in the presence of such a small human being before.  I was at least somewhat concerned because, as those of you who know Farley, he can be irrationally exuberant around people. I had visions of having him tied up somewhere on the boat to keep him from jumping all over the pretty much defenseless Cassy. As it turned out, he was very well behaved.  I guess there actually is something in that walnut-sized brain of his that can turn off the exuberance when necessary.

Mmm mmm, good!

Look, she wants to share her toys!

Here's Alex and Caroline enjoying the sun.

Megan and Farley in another one of his non-leaping moments.

Interesting Friesens

There aren't many Friesens out here in the American Pacific Northwest, but the small numbers haven't stopped a few of them making a name for themselves. 

Yesterday I did something I'd meant to do ever since I first noticed the place in downtown Seattle a couple of years ago. I stopped in at The Friesen Gallery, not far from Benaroya Hall and the Seattle Art Museum. And no, it's not a museum of Mennonite art (is that an oxymoron?). It's a museum of fine contemporary art, and I do mean fine.  At least very expensive! The typical price of the pieces on display was $20,000! I chatted for a while with the woman at the desk, telling her that I too was a Friesen, and that the Friesen of the Friesen Gallery might be a long-lost cousin. Well, it turns out that the Friesen in question is Andrea Friesen, originally from Minnesota. The lady at the desk did not know anything about her Mennonite heritage or lack thereof, but I suspect she's probably from the long line of Russian Mennonites from Canada. Is there another line of Friesens out there?

Another artistic Friesen out here is David Friesen, one of the best musicians in his genre in the world. And no, that genre is not gospel or bluegrass. His genre is jazz.  How un-Mennonite is that? I checked out his website, and there's no indication of any Canadian connection (born in Tacoma in 1942), but you never know. Obviously he doesn't share the Mennonite Rhythm Section gene that I unfortunately have.

And then there's Peter D. Friesen, who last lived in Lynden up near the Canadian border. He gained fame as a mover of buildings and other things (like 280' tall lighthouses) that no one else could move. Now this guy is a true Russian-Canadian Mennonite. He was born in Russia in 1922 to a formerly wealthy landowner who fled to Canada after the Russian Revolution. They ended up settling near Provost, Alberta. You can read an article from the Provost News here and you can see some videos from a movie that was made about him here. I liked watching the videos.  He kinda reminds me of my Uncle Abe, complete with that Plautdietsch-Canadian accent so familiar in my youth.

It's unlikely that this Friesen, i.e., me,  will ever reach the ranks of interesting and somewhat famous Pacific Northwest Friesens, but you never know.