Bryce Moore's Blog, page 229

The Problem with Healthcare, as Seen through Car Insurance

As you know, I got in a car accident last week. And while I meander my way through the process of getting things straightened out and paid for, I’m learning new things all the time. Not about the car accident–but about how this insurance game is played, which seems (to me) to have some implications beyond simple car repair.

So I called my insurance company, and they’ve been a delight to work with so far. Very understanding. They want to get my car repaired as quickly as possible. No complaints here (though I reserve the right to complain if their tune ever changes. If it doesn’t, I’ll gladly give them a shout out by name. But I’m going to wait to heap praises or throw rocks until all is said and done). But in any case, they asked me if I had a place in mind to do the repairs.

“How does it work?” I asked.

And it works thusly: I go to a body shop. They look at the damage and give an estimate on what it’ll take to fix it. They send that estimate to the insurance place, and my insurance company sends me a check for that cost, minus the cost of my deductible. Makes sense, more or less.

So I took Barukki (Yes. We name our cars. In this case, TRC chose the name. Why Barukki? Because at the time he was the world’s biggest Lightning McQueen fan. And in the movie, they’re always talking about “The Rookie” (McQueen) doing this that or the other. But to TRC’s four year old ears, what he heard was “Barukki.” So of course when the opportunity arose to pick a name, he knew just what he wanted.)

Where was I?

Ah yes. Taking Barukki for his health inspection. The body shop (recommended to me by my insurance company, and given their pre-approved stamp of approval) took some pictures, looked at the damage, disappeared to crunch some numbers, and then returned with a total: $3200. (Give or take.) And it’ll take 8 days for repairs to be completed, the duration of which I’ll be given a rental car (that’ll cost extra–but insurance will cover that too, theoretically.)

This is the cost to restore my car to the condition it was in before the accident. And really, it could be $10,000 for all I care. Why? Because I’m not paying it. I’m paying my deductible, and then once that’s come and gone, the end price is “who cares?”

But mind you, this is for a 2007 Honda Civic that now retails in the range of $8000. It still runs perfectly fine. The doors were smashed in, but they both open and close. It looks crummy, but the engine, the wheels, the everything-about-the-car-other-than-the-doors is just fine. And yet someone’s going to pay 40% of the value of the car to return it to a good looking vehicle.

Again, don’t misunderstand me: I’m getting the repairs done. My car is an investment, and the whole point of having insurance is to make sure I can keep that investment in as good of a condition as possible.

However.

If it were me paying the money–if I weren’t insured–would I pay the full $3200 to get the car fixed? Both doors, the fenders that were scratched, the support beam that was dinged? Or would I get it to “good enough” and go from there? Knowing me (and my finances), I’d stop at good enough. But because the people paying for the service (the insurance company) aren’t the people who need the service (me), the price can be pretty much whatever it wants to be.

It’s just like when I broke my elbow. The price I was paying was pretty much arbitrary to me. I’d paid my insurance, and so it was covered. Anything the doctors wanted to have done on me–any tests, procedures, etc–I was up for. Because I wasn’t paying. I looked over the repair estimate on Barukki and shrugged. “Okay,” is pretty much all I said. I didn’t question any of the estimates. Didn’t worry about the necessity of all of them. My insurance company said to go there, I went there, they’d get it fixed. End of story.

I think in order to have prices come down from where they are in health insurance, we somehow need to start connecting the people paying for the services with the people using the services. I have no idea how to do that, which I suppose is the problem: no one does. But as long as there is no connection, that price can be anything people want it to be, and who’s really going to bat an eye, other than the unfortunate who can’t afford health insurance?

That’s very troubling to me. Obamacare “fixes” the problem by saying “Let’s have everyone have insurance.” But it doesn’t address the cost issues, as near as I can tell.

Thoughts?

An Ode to The Sting

I can’t remember how old I was when I first watched The Sting. Probably around ten, though perhaps a bit older. For years, it became a yearly tradition: my cousins and I would all watch The Sting together up at our family cabin in the mountains of Utah. Why The Sting?

Because it’s an awesome movie.

(I’m assuming most or all of you have watched this movie. It won Best Picture and a slew of other Oscars in 1973. Paul Newman and Robert Redford stage a long con to cheat Robert Shaw out of a bunch of money during the Great Depression.)

The Sting was the first time I remember watching a film and just being blown away by the plot. The first time I watched in sheer confusion as everything that was supposed to go right suddenly went wrong, only to discover that I had been completely taken in by a long con of the movie itself. That type of film remains one of my favorites–any movie that’s smart enough to be able to say quite clearly at the outset, “I’m going to trick you,” and then proceed to do just that over the course of the film. Movies like Ocean’s Eleven, or The Thomas Crowne Affair. To me, it’s like a magician. You know they’re going to trick you, and so you resolve not to be tricked. The magic is when they take you in anyway. The Sting is awesome because it doesn’t even have to hide its artifices–it throws certain scenes in that make no sense at the time (What is Redford putting into his mouth?), knowing that we’ll forget them just a few minutes later–until it all becomes clear at the end. (Aha!)

The Sting is also the first movie where the soundtrack made any sort of a dent on my consciousness. It singlehandedly introduced me to ragtime and made me love it. I bought the soundtrack and listened to it over and over again.

The Sting was the embodiment of cool for years to me. The sheer confidence of Paul Newman throughout. How cocky and smug Redford could be, while still clearly unsure of what he’s doing a lot of the time. The way they dressed. The secret signals. It was all just so much fun.

Why did my cousins and I keep watching it year after year? I think it was because (honestly) it was complex enough that we didn’t get it. With each repeat viewing, we’d get a bit more. Understand another angle. But most importantly, we had younger cousins–The Sting was the first movie I would watch again with new people just to see how they reacted when the finale came at last.

As I start my fourth draft of GET CUPID, I’m taking the time to delve back into heist/caper movies again, and my love for the genre all goes back to The Sting and that first time I watched it. Every time I start to watch another caper, it’s because I want to recapture that feeling I had more than twenty years ago.

Obscure Netflix Movie Recommendations: The Concert and Breaking Away

Okay, so I realize that for some of you, Breaking Away won’t count as an “obscure” movie. I mean, it won an Oscar for Best Writing, and it got nominations for Best Picture, Director, Supporting Actress, and Music. But that was back in 1979, and I’m willing to bet good money that almost none of you reading this have heard of the movie. Which is a shame–it’s a good flick. (Best Picture material? I don’t know about that . . .)

It’s the story of a group of friends just graduated from high school. They live in a college town in Indiana and don’t see themselves as college material. Their fathers all worked in the stone quarry, relegating them all to the social class of “Cutters” (rock cutters–get it?) The main character is Dave, a teen obsessed with bike racing and Italy. He’s so nuts about it, he speaks Italian to his parents. There’s a big bike race in town every year, and this year they’re finally letting a group of locals compete (before it’s always been for the university types).

It’s well acted and directed, and the music is fantastic. An inspirational, uplifting movie whose main problem is a tendency to meander through the story instead of streamlining things a bit better. Really, I would have adored it had it had more of a direction the first third of the film. As it was, it came across as more of a slice of life movie that morphed into a sports movie halfway through. Even still, it’s a great flick and worth checking out. 7 out of 10 stars.

The other movie I’d like to highlight for you is The Concert, a French/Russian movie that was a great surprise for me. It’s the story of a former conductor of the Bolshoi orchestra in USSR days, now forced to be a janitor for the same organization. He dreams of returning to glory one day, and when he intercepts a request for the Bolshoi to come to France and perform, he leaps at the chance. He gets a group of musicians together and decides to impersonate the Bolshoi orchestra. The movie is funny and unpredictable from start to finish. Yes, it’s in French and Russian, but come on–give it a shot. Really, my one critique of the film is that there were several times when it was very clear the musicians weren’t actually playing their instruments. That’ll probably not be an issue for most of you, but it’s a pet peeve of mine. At least take the time to know where your fingers should be going depending on the notes coming out of that thing you’re holding. 9 out of 10 for this one.

Anyone already seen either or both of these? Got something to add? Chime in!

I Got in a Car Accident Yesterday. How Was Your Day?

Mere minutes after posting my Downton Abbey review yesterday, I was in a car accident. It’s amazing to me how life can spring surprises on you at any moment. TRC’s tooth a week or so ago, and now car damage. Yay?  I’m not going to get into a whole account of exactly what transpired, but suffice it to say that my car was hit as I was pulling out of my driveway. Both driver’s side doors crumpled, but my car is still drivable. The other driver wasn’t injured, and neither was I, thankfully. His car sustained some damage on the front of his car. No idea yet what this is going to end up costing, though I know I’ll have the joy of interacting with insurance companies over the next few days at least.

But of course since this is me, and this is my blog, you know I have some thoughts on the matter. I’ve never been in an accident before, so I got to learn a few things in the immediate aftermath. First up, calling 9-1-1. That was another first for me. It was fairly simple and straightforward, even from a cell phone. Gave them my address, described what had happened. “Any flames or fluids coming from either car?” Thank goodness no. “Any injuries?” Again, no.

The office arrived in about five minutes or so. He took both our licenses, registrations, and proofs of insurance. Asked what had happened. Took fifteen minutes to write up the report, and everyone drove away.

I was shaken up enough after the accident that my hands were trembling. It’s an interesting experience (in hindsight): looking out your window, seeing a car coming, and knowing there’s no way that car is going to stop in time, and you’re about to get broadsided. It reminded me a lot of when I broke my elbow, of course. For me, there came a calm acceptance. There was nothing I could do, and so at that point, it was going to be whatever it was going to be.

I simmered down after a few minutes, mainly because nothing too awful had happened. Everyone was okay, and the cars would live to fight another day. I even made it to jury duty. (Yay?) And once I had time to reflect on the experience, several thoughts bubbled to the surface.

The knee jerk reaction, of course, is to think how easily it could have been avoided. If only jury duty hadn’t meant I was headed into town later. If only I’d been a few seconds slower (or faster) eating my breakfast. If only if only. But on the flip side, it also could easily have been much worse. If the other driver hadn’t seen me in time to put on the brakes some. If I’d been hit closer to where I was sitting.

I was lying in bed after all this was over (jury duty accomplished, kids off sledding), and the thought came crystal clear into my head: I could easily be dead right this moment.

It’s not a stretch to realize that. Yes, the net result of the accident isn’t too terrible, but as I said–it could easily have been worse. And as soon as I had that thought, I had a second: I really believe in life after death. No fooling, folks. I know it’s a matter of some debate for many, but for me, my mind’s made up. My brain wasn’t churning through how close I’d come to oblivion. It was thinking about how close I’d come to the afterlife.

Anyway. I don’t really want this post to get all mopey on everyone. But I will say I was surprised–once I’d had the “I was a few seconds away from being dead” thought–to discover how okay I was with that. I wasn’t worried about things I hadn’t done or mistakes that hadn’t been corrected. I was at peace with the whole thing. You never really know how you’re going to react in a situation like that until you’re in the middle of it, and now I’ve been in the middle of it.

Still, once is enough for me. I’m in no rush to repeat the process. Here’s hoping to a crash-free future, and wish me luck with the insurance peoples, people. I’ll probably need it.

Downton Abbey 4.8 Review: Mostly Redeemed

I’m on jury duty again today, so you’re getting this post a bit early. Denisa and I watched the penultimate Downton episode last night, which means this season only has the Christmas episode to go, and we all know what happens then: all fun and games until someone gets in a car crash.

So how did this episode go? For the most part, I enjoyed it at last. Short on time, so I’ll jump straight to the rundown:

Mary and her suitors. Gather ’round, class. I’m going to teach you how (not) to introduce a new acceptable suitor to replace the one all your fans loved and adored. Step one. Introduce an absolutely idiotic replacement. Someone who doesn’t fit our heroine at all. But make it so that our heroine is interested anyway. Chalk it up to her being emotional after the death of her husband. Whatever you do, make sure they audience doesn’t like the new guy. Keep that up for an episode or two–long enough to get your audience to think “ANYONE BUT HIM!!!” Then, introduce the guy you want people to root for. Blarg. It’s so clear how they maneuvered the plot in this case . . . But the stage is now set. We can have this love triangle forced upon us. I’ve decided to just focus on the fact that Mary was changed by Matthew. That she became a nice, kinder Mary who can still be mean now and then. But the sooner Lord Gilligan disappears, the better. The guy’s like a sad puppy.
Bates Goes A’ Murderin’–That spring is back in his limp. The smile’s on his face. Here we have Bates proving to everyone once and for all that he didn’t kill his wife. When he wants someone dead, he’s smart enough to make it look like an accident. Case closed. Still a very bizarre plot for the show to have, where Bates was forced to turn into this bloodthirsty monster for half the season. Whatever. It’s over now. (Please?)
Daisy/Ivy/Alfred–Also over. I really liked the interaction between Daisy and Mrs. Patmore. A great touch, and some wonderful character development. Huzzah!
Rose and her Band Leader Boy Toy–Also glad this plot is done. I’m all for introducing color to the Downton cast, but I can’t help but feel this wasn’t the way to do it. Band Leader guy just came across as *such* a token character. And now he’s swept back under the rug for the rest of the cast to ignore again.
Edith Off to Switzerland–This is a plot that felt like it hasn’t quite known what to do with itself. It’s kind of all over the place. But whatever. Maybe they’ve been saving up for the chance to do something big at the Christmas episode.
Lord Grantham and Thomas back from America–Did the actors want a vacation? Kind of a random absence. Oh well.

That’s all I have time for today, alas. Really, there’s nothing particularly awesome I can point to to explain why I’m liking the show again. I think it’s mainly just that the plots I *dis*liked are done now. I’ll save my final verdict for next week, but so far I’d say the season isn’t the worst one they’ve had, but definitely not the best.

On to Christmas!

Snow Day!

Actually one and a half snow days, if you’re getting technical. Schools let out early yesterday, and they were totally canceled today. Add to that the fact that it’s President’s Day on Monday, the kids have all next week off for winter break, and I’ve got jury duty on Tuesday (yay?), and we’ve got a pretty big rest period ahead of us.

How will I be spending it? I’m working on THE MEMORY THIEF revision, for one thing. It’s actually pretty minor, all things considered. My agent got his notes to me, and I’ve been churning through them, but the book looks like it’s pretty much on track. There are some motivations that need to be better defined, and some character traits that have to be smoothed out, but if this were a house renovation, it would be mostly redoing the closets or switching out the light fixtures, as opposed to moving wall or adding a second story. That’s a really good sign. I’m hopeful I can get the revision done in the next week or so and then have it go out on submission in the not-too-distant future.

Huzzah!

I’ll also be watching the Olympics, of course. The kids and Denisa are going to be skiing quite a bit, but there’s also some cleaning around the house that needs doing. And taxes. Mustn’t forget the taxes. I suppose even on the days when there’s nothing you have to do, there’s still plenty you have to do, if that makes sense.

So I’m off to do it!

The Techie Walk of Shame

It’s true. This morning, I had to call the help desk to get my computer fixed. I’m man enough to admit it publicly. My laptop (a Mac) refused to start, and I worked on the thing for two hours before finally throwing in the towel. It had been bugging me to update it for the last week or two, and I finally caved in yesterday and let it run the updates.

Classic mistake.

So it wouldn’t boot this morning, and I has a sad. I’m now on a loaner computer, which just feels wrong. I’m a one computer at a time kind of guy, and here I am stepping out with an older model while my one and only is in bed, sick.

I’m such a traitor.

Don’t worry, Lappy. This loaner model is blechy.

In any case, this isn’t the way I wanted to head into a long weekend (big storm on the way tomorrow. Who knows if we’ll have school or not. That’s followed by President’s Day, and then the day after that I have Jury Duty revenge. But who am I kidding? Lappy will likely have to get sent in to have its poor memory wiped, and I’ll be with this loaner for the next six weeks.

Moan and groan. At least I have the loaner, I suppose . . .

And if you don’t get the Lappy reference (and I don’t blame you), you really ought to check this out.

My Newest Six Year Old: Happy Birthday, DC!

Someone asked me the other day how old my daughter was. I waffled between answering 4 and 5–I knew she had a birthday coming up, and so I wanted to say she was four going on five, but was there a chance she was three going on four? I couldn’t remember.

Then I did the math.

She turned six yesterday. Six. How in the world has that happened?

DC loves celebrating things–each week she rattles off the upcoming events and opportunities to party. Birthdays, holidays (Valentime’s Day is a favorite–that’s how she pronounces it), parties at school. You name it, and she’s looking forward to it. So having her own birthday to look forward to has been particularly exciting. Denisa got streamers put up and made her a big cake, and I struggled mightily to figure out what in the world she’s like for presents. I even had a long discussion with her on the topic. Her response? “Hmm . . . That’s a good question. I already got everything I wanted for Christmas, so I don’t know.” (I’m either raising a girl who has very frugal wants, or I’m a sucker and I give her every little thing she asks for. In this case I think it’s the former.)

I finally broke down and took a trip to Marden’s to see if inspiration struck. I emerged with some craft books, paint by number sets, and a lap desk. I wrapped them for her yesterday, feeling pretty sheepish about the whole thing. They just didn’t scream “GREAT BIRTHDAY PRESENTS” to me, but I knew she’d like them. With TRC, I have a much easier time shopping. I know what he’d like. And so I worried that DC would look at her haul and be disappointed.

She opened them all and seemed really excited. Was she just being nice? I guess not. Later that evening in private, she told Denisa, “Why is it that I always get the really cool presents and TRC gets the not so good ones?”

So I’m calling that a win.

Either which way, we had a great time last night, and she’s having friends over today for a small play date. The girl’s a joy to have in the family–conscientious and caring, free spirited and fun. Happy birthday, DC–please stop getting older so quickly!

Your Weekly Downton Fix: Episode 4.7

Yes, it’s true. The olympics are on, I’m teaching early morning seminary this week, and I still made time to watch Downton yesterday. Why? Because my wife adores the show, really. And she puts up with watching an awful lot of things I love, so I try to reciprocate now and then. And honestly, it’s not that it’s a dreadful experience (well, most of the episode, anyway)–there are still plots I’m genuinely enjoying. But when I have to get up at 5 am the next day, and I’m feeling under the weather, and there’s downhill skiing beckoning from another channel . . .

I still watched.

And what did I think this week? Allow me to give a rundown of my responses to the various plotlines:

Abortion. Really? Abortion? We’re going there? A sign to me that the writers really are starting to grasp at flashy plotlines. Very glad Edith didn’t go through with it. The less said about this plot the better. I have no idea what the writers are up to with Edith. Her story is just sort of flailing around from week to week. Maybe it’ll all come clear in a future episode?
Lord Gillingham–Back again? Ugh. Each time he opened his mouth I wanted to backhand the little simpering snot, and I was ticked off Mary didn’t oblige me by doing it. How big of an idiot does this guy have to prove himself to be? Lame with a capital L.
Anna’s rapist returns–Not that you couldn’t see this coming from a mile away, but I finally understand how they’re going to justify Bates murdering this moron. Have him show up and start prancing around making jokes in front of Anna and Bates until the entire audience wants the guy dead. Very happy to see Mrs. Hughes give him a sound lecture, and looking forward to this year’s Christmas special, which will consist of 2 hours of Bates slowly beating the man senseless, as upstairs Violet and Isobel play a pinochle tournament.
Violet–Nice to see Isobel and her making nice. Very pleased the murderous writers didn’t have Violet die.
Rose–Never liked her. This plot is vapid and forced. Next.
Mary and the pigs–This was kind of awesome. It felt in character for Mary, it introduced a new love interest in a way that wasn’t repugnant. Mary is a strong character–to have her even consider the offer of such a weak spined chucklehead as Gillingham is just yucky. To have her have an equally strong minded character to go up against . . . much better.
Ivy/Daisy love triangle–Still diverting, if only for the laughs.
Thomas off to America, leaving a spy behind–Intriguing enough, I suppose. Thomas is being underutilized these days. He’s just sort of delegated to the background, where he can rub his hands together wickedly every so often and cackle now and then. Lots of foreshadowing, but to what end?

There’s only 2 episodes left, so I guess it will all go somewhere soon? Or shall we have a big cliffhanger that will torture us all? I’ll keep watching, though judging from my page hits of this weekly column, a lot of viewers have long since given up on the show.

What did you think about this week? Are you back on the Downton wagon?

Olympic Thoughts on Practice, Talent, and Picking Apart Perfection

I’m a self-confessed Olympics junkie. For those two weeks of sporting events, I follow the stories really closely, checking out events across all the disciplines, reading up on the different story lines. You name it. And so I’ve been watching a lot of winter sports the past few days, and as I’ve been watching it all unfold, a few thoughts have come to me that I wanted to get down on paper.

First up, the difference between practice and talent. I was kicked back (nursing a thrown out back) watching speed skating, and it occurred to me: these athletes were giving it their all. 100% of their ability, practice, and hard work–it was all getting left out on the ice for the world to see. And for all but three of them, their all just wasn’t enough. Worse yet, for most of them, the announcers knew it wasn’t enough the second the skater came out to line up at the starting line.

Some skaters were fast enough to contend for a medal, but most just weren’t–barring a huge series of bizarre screw ups.

My first response to that thought was to feel sad for the skaters. They could try as hard as they liked for as long as they liked, but they were never going to cut it. As much as we love to hear about underdogs winning it all, the whole reason those stories are memorable is because they almost always don’t (win it all, that is). But then again, that’s life. There’s a certain level of achievement we can obtain in any skill set, and that level is a combination of natural talent and the time you put into honing that talent. But in the end, there’s a wall you  just can’t get around, and that wall is the limit of your own ability.

It was kind of a brutal thought, but like I said–my back was hurting.

However, it gets better. Because I kept watching, and the amazing thing to me was the fact that despite everyone knowing from the beginning about how well each athlete could do, all the athletes showed up to compete anyway. I mean, even the comparatively awful ones. (More on that thought in a moment.) People who knew they had no real chance to win were still there, giving it their best. Some of them were setting personal records. They were all competing for themselves and their country. And that’s kind of inspiring.

We always focus on the best and brightest, and that’s understandable. But in many ways it’s just as inspiring to see people coming to do their personal best. No matter how I try to type that, it comes out wrong–but hopefully you get the main sentiment.

My second thought came while I was watching figure skating. It’s a bit easier to describe. The fam and I were watching these women do amazing, incredible things on the ice. Things I could never in a million years hope to be able to do, and yet the commentators were there to point out everything those women were doing wrong. They could put it all into slow motion and look at misplaced feet and wrong skate edges, and suddenly the awesome became the so-so.

Because we’re trained to look for the best–to praise the winner and ignore the losers–how often do we end up being unable to just appreciate the beauty of the competition? The fact of the matter is that whatever you do, you’re not going to be perfect. And somehow, watching those amazing skaters get picked apart made me feel better about myself. Not because someone else was getting torn down, but because I realized that perfection is pretty  much unobtainable. If these amazing performances could still get picked apart, then maybe I should go a bit easier on myself. Yes, there are rough edges I can find–but there are always going to be rough edges. You work on what you can, and just keep doing your best.

No clue why I’m having deep thoughts while watching the Olympics. I guess I should just taken ‘em where I can get ‘em.