Dear GOP - the collective you are an Idiot

Originally posted by ladyqkat at Dear GOP - the collective you are an Idiot

(Post originally seen in this post by ramblin_phyl. I have been notified that it was originally posted by suricattus in her journal post. The story and words are hers, but I do believe that it needs to go viral and that as many people as possible need to get their stories out there. Only by making a noise about this can we make a change in our society.)

There is a move afoot in the nation -driven by the GOP - to repeal the new health care laws, to protect corporate interests, to defend against fear-mongering (and stupid) cries of "socialism!", and to ensure that people are forced to choose between keeping a roof over their heads or getting necessary health care.

This movement is killing people.

Think I'm overstating the fact?

Ask the friends and family of writer/reviewer Melissa Mia Hall, who died of a heart attack last week because she was so terrified of medical bills, she didn't go see a doctor who could have saved her life.

From another writer friend: One person. Not the only one. That could have been me. Yeah, I have access to insurance -- I live in New York City, which is freelancer-friendly, and have access to freelancer advocacy groups. Through them, I can pay over $400/month ($5,760/year) as a single, healthy woman, so that if I go to the hospital I'm not driven to bankruptcy. But a doctor's appointment - a routine physical - can still cost me several hundred dollars each visit. So unless something's terribly wrong? I won't go.

My husband worked for the government for 30 years. We have government employee (retired) insurance. It is the only thing of value he took away from that job. His pension is pitiful. He still works part time. My writing income has diminished drastically. Our combined income is now less than what it was before T retired fifteen years ago. Inflation has diminished it further. In the last 30 days I have racked up over $8000 in medical bills for tests and the beginning of treatment. Our co-pay is 20% after the deductible. And there is more to come. Our savings are already gone. I have the gold standard of insurance and I still can't pay all the medical bills.

Another friend lost her insurance when her husband lost his job. She couldn't afford medication and ended up bed ridden for three months at the end of over a year of no job and therefore no insurance until he found work again.

It's our responsibility. All of us, together. As a nation.

EtA: Nobody is trying to put insurance companies out of business. They will always be able to offer a better plan for a premium. We simply want to ensure that every citizen - from infant to senior citizen - doesn't have to choose between medical care, and keeping a roof over their heads, or having enough to eat.

We're trying to get this to go viral. Pass it along.

I'm going to post my story as the first comment to this post if anyone would like to read it. If anyone wants to tell their story, please tell it on your own journal and post a link in the comments. Maybe, just maybe, TPTB will listen to the slaves peons who clean their toilets before they have to clean their own.

Old, Fat, Slow.

That should be the name of a bike blog. I could make fun of cycle chic, rant at grown men who have to ride on the sidewalk, map routes to all the places in town where one can get things to eat/drink that are bad for one.....

Anyway, at the risk of death threats from baronalejandro , who at least has someone to make him French Toast during snow emergencies, this writer must report that the current temperature on My Island (Gawd, I sound like that Irish nutbag from Braveheart), is a pleasant  72 degrees. Thus I got up this morning, looked at the Estrella to-do list and decided it could get to-done later. I grabbed my helmet and backpack and pedaled up to the shopping center to hit an ATM and buy a bottle of water, then threaded my way through bumper to bumper traffic out to Alameda Point. Yeah, it was bumper to bumper at nearly 10 AM from Webster Street most of the way out because it was a nice day and because someone put an article in the Things To Do section of the Chronicle, 'cause they were all streaming out of the tube from the Oakland side of the world.

It's the schmucks in the SUVs who will NOT move over. There's no bike lane on that stretch of Main Street, and there's no sidewalk either. My choices were hair curling games of thread the needle, slam into roadside shrubbery, ride into a ditch or defiantly take a lane behind some entitled yuppie's bumper and eat exhaust while trying not to come to a complete and utter stop. However, I eventually got to the gate, peeled off to the far right of the old runway away from the crawling mob of cars and cruised up to the front gates. There was still plenty of space at the bike rack. A young man in one of the market's parking/security vests complimented Two Tone Mimi as I was locking her up.

Thanks to reality TV, Antiques Roadshow and The Internet, it's getting a lot harder to find treasures at bargain prices. Most dealers not only know what they've got, they tend not to budge on prices. Yeah, You from Pawn Stars, I blame you. There are some dealers I just admire something and move on 'cause I know they're not going to give me a break.  I priced a lovely lacquer plate and hastily put it down again - and walked away when he offered me a sky high price on a pair of laquer bowls, one of which had a huge burn mark across the decoration on the bottom. 

I did, however, find a very nice guy who had two whole racks full of polyester and crimpilene dresses from the 60s and 70s, all in excellent condition (no pills, sweat stains, cigarette burns, and some even with original tags in place).  He even had a couple pieces in bigger sizes. I came home with this. $40 bucks, but it's like it's brand new. I may actually have to take it in and bring the hem up!

I also scored a very pretty vase from a guy's $5 table. I must have that kind of face, either honest or at least I look like I'll frown a potential shoplifter to death, because he asked me to watch his spot while he ran to the bank of porta-johns by the fence for five minutes.

Had some interesting conversations with the cowboy boot guy and the lady with the central Asian textiles and textile books. More pictures are up at http://www.flickr.com/photos/70104978@N00/sets/72157625992292958/with/5423332930/

Took the long way home by way of the Foster's Freeze on Central Avenue for a well earned root beer float, detoured down to the Office Max at the South Shore for something I forgot to get yesterday, then cranked home. I heard a cry of "I LOVE YOUR RIDE" as I passed the Calvary Christian Center. I yelled "I LOVE MY RIDE TOO" back at the black kid in pigtails coming out the door, even though I was exhausted on the last leg coming up Grand Street., but I didn't fall off the bike on the front lawn like I did that one time.

It's been a couple months since I've had a leg over that bike. I've missed it. I'm gonna feel this tomorrow though....

EDIT: Hell, I'm feeling it now. That vintage Murray seat isn't any softer than it was when I bought that bike last fall. At least my "bad" knee feels OK.