My kingdom for a sic
Although it’s apparently not in the AP Stylebook, this quote from a story in today’s Post-Gazette just screams for a qualifier:
“Usually I like football,” he said, “but that day I could care less.”
Especially given this piece on that very offense, published two days ago.
Oh, delicious irony.
The system is broken
My recent trip to Boston left my heart full of hope for the web design community, and my ankle full of blood thanks to the massive internal hemorrhaging that I enabled from my tumble over a case of Sam Adams (running sober, no less).
When I came home, common sense (Arielle) prevailed and a trip to the doctor was arranged. At least one was attempted. Finding my so-called “personal care physician” and setting up an appointment within a reasonable amount of time proved to more difficult than getting an audience with the pope. So I sucked it up and hobbled into the emergency room at our nearest hospital and began the long wait.
Having only been to the ER once before for drinking darkroom chemicals when I was a kid, I was unsure of what to expect. Appalachian Emergency Room came to mind, and Pittsburgh did not disappoint (remember, it’s only 50 miles to West Virginia).
From my experience, I bring back one simple question: What is up with American health care? Does a visit to the doctor really need to be weighed against the monthly mortgage payment? Thanks to my magic insurance card I was spared the entirety of the bill, but come on. Is this really necessary?
For $1,005 (less my $35 deductible) of imaginary fairy money I was treated to the best that the UPMC health care system had to offer, including:
- A 1 minute conversation with the receptionist
- 45 minutes in the waiting area, complete with Jerry Springer on the television and an old man who made sure that all in attendance knew that he was “92 YEARS OLD” and that “MY PIPES ARE CLOGGED”
- 8 minutes with the billing lady
- 45 more minutes in the waiting area, old man, Montel, and nurses who thought it was a good idea to yell last names from the next room instead of getting up and walking ten steps to call someone in
- 4 minutes with a nurse (?) who typed in “LEFT ANKLE INJURY, RUNNING”, “BOSTON”, and “TUESDAY” on my chart.
- 30 minutes in the waiting area
- 10 minutes with the X-ray technician who, when I asked if he wanted to see my ankle or at least have it unwrapped, laughed and said, “Why would I want to see that?”
- 15 minutes in a curtained-off bay in the emergency room that smelled like dirty diapers
- 5 minutes with a nurse who pronounced my ankle sprained, wrapped it with a new Ace Bandage, and gave me an ice pack
- 20 minutes in said bay, diaper smell still present despite the appearance of a custodian who emptied the garbage
- 5 minutes of answering exit interview questions with a nurse, who graciously showed me the X-ray of my ankle after I asked to see it
All in all, a good time. I really think I got my imaginary fairy money’s worth.
Go where the money is
Lucky us. We seem to have moved into the nexus of the grocery store universe. The forthcoming opening of a Trader Joe’s brings the number of grocery stores to which we can easily walk or bike to four. Baked goods, a deli, produce (organic and conventional), a coffee bar, and even free Wi-Fi. We’re surrounded by choices.
Meanwhile, one of the city’s neighborhoods most in need of help is reduced to looking forward to a sorry excuse for a real store or relying on the promises of a gambling operation looking to brown-nose their way into the city and take over land from the same disadvantaged population.
Some choice.
Why, why, why?
President Bush’s response to a question inquiring if he will see Al Gore’s new movie, An Inconvenient Truth, isn’t surprising, but it irritates me nonetheless. How much more of an arrogant prick can one be?
How did someone with absolutely no intellectual curiosity get elected to the most powerful office in the world?
No need to answer that; it’s merely rhetorical. I think I know.
Shameless politicking
A local state senator has taken it upon himself to propose a measure to suspend the Pennsylvania state gas tax until October 31. He claims that “people can barely afford to travel to work” and that they “end up spending a large portion of their paycheck on gas.” My heart bleeds. Really.
It’s an pretty bad piece of legislation given the loss of revenue to the state and, even more so, the complete and utter lack of any action to combat our oil-fueled hedonistic culture. And I said as much (in less crazy terms) in a letter to the editor.
But what really gets me is Mr. Logan’s attempt to “humanize” the issue by telling the story of a 7-year old blind boy who won’t be able to get to summer camp because of the expense of getting him there.
Well, I feel for you and your son Ms. Travisano, but you’re being used as a shill.
Using the magic of the Internet, I discovered that such a trip to camp is approximately 14 miles. Round-trip, 28. We’ll round it up to 30 for good measure and to take into account the stop-and-go nature of the trip.
Let’s pretend that camp is 5 days a week, all summer long. June 1 to August 31. I’m sure it’s not. But I like to be on the high side of things. That’s about 70 days, give or take a few.
All said, that’s about 2100 miles of driving. Assuming a fuel efficiency of 20 mpg, one will use about 105 gallons of gas to make all of the trips.
The current fuel tax is 31.2 cents a gallon. For 105 gallons of gas, you will be paying about $33 in tax. Amortized over 70 days, that comes out to about fifty cents per day.
I don’t presume to know the details of anyone’s finances (beyond what is publicly available), but come on. Half a dollar a day? I’ll pay you $33 not to be used as the face of a piece of ridiculous legislation.
Confidential to the drunk guy at the concert last night
- I’ve never seen a grown man drinking Budweiser drunk by 7:30. But you and I run in different circles.
- Your family has been in Pittsburgh “for four generations?” Wow. I really don’t care, and telling me this amazing fact over and over makes me care even less. I suggest breaking the streak.
- Contrary to what you think, people did not pay $15 for the pleasure of watching you make an ass of yourself in front of the stage.
- The band can “kick it up a notch” and “rock the house down” without your helpful suggestions, thank you very much.
- Your efforts to sing along to songs that you, self-admittedly, “don’t know,” was sad to me, but was a great tribute to the thousands of poseurs who have gone before you.
- While your personal advice on love carried with it a hopeful message, I think I’ll stick to my guns. I’m happily married. Your fiance called off your wedding due to “trust issues.”
- Not everyone gets pulled aside by Peter Buck to be told to behave. Maybe his kids, but I know they are more considerate than you. Too bad you won’t remember the encounter.
- Watching you be escorted out of the concert gave us all great satisfaction. I especially relished the opportunity to tell you that “you suck” and that “you should leave” as you were making your way out.
- Be sure to pay your friend back for his ticket and the bar tab that he had to hurry up and pay as you were making your way out the door.
- Hair loss can be treated.
- But above all, you’re 42. Come on. You can (and should) turn this boat around.
Are we blind?
This whole rising oil costs thing has me so damn angry. Angry enough to post.
I hate America’s sense of entitlement to two-hour commutes, Wal-Mart, the suburbs, fast-food, strip malls, oversized urban assault vehicles, and everything else ugly and wasteful in the world that our “endless” supply of oil has “blessed” us with.
Guess what? It’s not going to last forever. And no matter how much we try, there will come a time when the wells will run dry. The sooner we accept this, the better off we’ll be.
Hey, Joe Suburb, that 40-mile trip into downtown every day from your gated “Hidden Shady Oak Glen” paradise is going to take an awfully long time on foot. Or you could take out another mortgage on your house to fill up the SUV. Better move back into the city while the real estate is cheap.
Imposing on the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge isn’t going to help us in any way that justifies tarnishing a true wilderness area. Bush says it could “reduce our dependence on foreign oil by up to 1 million barrels of oil a day”? Right. For a year or less, sure. And then it would dry up and we’d be no better off than we were before. Worse, probably, given the typical American’s lack of foresight. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, right?
America is the fattest pig at the oil trough. Can this be said enough? And, even more importantly, does anyone care?
Update: The zeitgeist in action (2-28 and 3-7, in particular).
Chalk one up for science
One group of people that I’ve never been able to side with, let alone understand, are creationists. By relying on a series of fanciful tales and ignoring the whole of science, creationists hold a place in my heart very similar to the dungeon that I also reserve for those that commute via SUV, litter, or vote Republican. Given the way things are in this world, none of that makes sense.
Therefore, I was glad to see that common sense won out in a recent Georgia ruling that ordered disclaimer stickers removed from biology textbooks. Why in the world does evolution, a scientifically sound theory, have to concede an inch to any belief system that cannot justify its existence in any way beyond offering a collection of fictional tales, as entertaining as they may be?
Stupid rules
I’m feeling like my civil liberties have been violated today. What follows is an email that I sent to the Pittsburgh Critical Mass mailing list, detailing an unpleasant bike parking situation.
Subject: An inalienable right to rack? [UDPATE]
Last week I posed a question about bicycle parking at the Moorhead Federal building downtown. A security guard had harassed me about parking my bike at the racks because I do not work in the building (I park there and catch a bus at Penn Station). It happened again today, so I decided to call the building manager for some answers.
I didn’t have much luck. According to him, since the rack is on federal property, they have the final say of how it is used. And, apparently, if you’re not working at or visiting the building, you are not welcome to park your bike there.
I expressed surprise at this since I thought a government building was supposed to be a building built to serve the people, but no dice. The building manager said that allowing anyone to park at the rack would take away spaces for those that really need it.
Never mind that in the six months prior to these occurrences, I’ve never seen more than three bikes in the rack at once, even on nice days.
I don’t really know the legality of this guy’s claim, but I’ll just accept it for now. It’s not worth getting worked up over. I’m moving to a different part of town in less than a month anyway, so in the meantime I’ll park somewhere else.
Venting,
Jake Krohn
Like I said, it’s a pretty small issue in the larger scope of things. But I’m sure that George W. Bush and/or the Patriot Act have contributed to it in some way.
More lunacy
More proof that we’re still headed in the wrong direction. Apparently, enclosed shopping malls are on the way out and are being replaced by “Lifestyle Centers.” It’s the perfect example of a bad idea being made even worse.
The New Urbanists should hang their head in shame at this quote by one of their directors, Ellen Greenberg.
Many people live in communities where there’s not a main street where they can walk, window shop and meet people […]. What we’re learning is people value that and miss it, which is why it’s being imitated in these lifestyle centers.
These are the people who are supposed to save our urban fabric? Has it become satisfactory to destroy our cities and then create sterile substitutes for the amusement of those who jumped ship? We have a place like that already. It’s called Main Street USA and it’s in Disney World. One fantasy is enough.
