Letters to Holly

Thursday, April 6

Insurance is Fun
One of The Big Talks spouses have concerns how much medical insurance they want to pay for. Such a conversation happened last night, and it didn’t go so well. Your Sistr is offered what’s called supplemental insurance through the state; this isn’t medical insurance, but a kind of “income insurance.” If you can’t work, this supplies you with money for living expenses. Medical is supposed to cover just the costs associated with getting healed up right proper.

Aflac, for instance, sells supplemental insurance. You pay a certain amount of money out of each paycheck, and they promise to pay you back a certain amount plus some. But many consider it a kind of injury lottery. If you’re lucky enough to have an accident, you make a profit. Your Sister was asking me what I thought of such deals from a philosophical perspective while at the same time not tipping her hand about how she regarded them. But her questions pointed to the same focus: What do you want me to do with this? I didn’t want to tell her how to spend her money. This lead to raised voices. And a bit of consternation. Here’s an example of how I got frustrated:

Her: (cute, sincere, inquisitive) What do you think of these kinds of deals?

Me: (loving a soapbox, smart as a whip) It’s a crap shoot. How likely is it for you to either stub your toe or lose all your limbs? How much do you want to pay for the likelihood of either? How much can you afford to pay in hopes of winning an injury lottery?

Her: (playing her cards close to the vest) I don’t know what you mean.

Me: (baffled, confounded, mind exploding) … I can’t be more clear.

Us: (transforming into Godzilla and Rodan) RAWR! GRR! YOU IS THE DUMB!

We hammered out our plan on dealing with it finally after we had to calm down enough to clarify our positions in the most formal words possible. This is how we fight. Then it we inevitably discover we’re saying the same thing in different ways. Always happens. We have the exact same stands couched in distinct terms. So we’re not getting the state’s insurance plan. While it can help pay for everything from cough drops to crutches, that’s all coming out of your money. It doesn’t give you any more group money for those items. The insurance acts as a savings plan with no interest. When you run out of your money, there is no more to draw from. The kicker is that at the end of the year, you don’t get back the remainder of what you didn’t spend. That goes to a state account to spend as it wishes. So, no, North Carolina, screw that noise. We’ll handle our money, spend it as we need to and not lose any if we manage to stay healthy. That’s what the plan is: A self-regulated health tax.

All is well at Stately Geek Manor. I made honey-glaze chicken alfredo (mixing up Dijon mustard and honey myself) and watched “Lost.” Without spoiling anything, one of the actors from the last third of “Sex and the City” debuted in a new role and had a major role last night.

I started the third Harry Potter book last night, and it feels twice as long as the second book. (I just checked Amazon, it actually has more pages, but less than 100 of them).

Picture of the Day
The stuff you find online…

In the news
Giving nuclear technology to Eastern nations is bad. Unless it’s India. Which of course gets along with everyone and wouldn’t possibly make weapons.

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The jury in the Moussaoui sentencing phase will hear the cockpit recordings from Flight 93. I’m not sure how that can possibly prove whether he killed anyone directly. It’s going to be highly emotional material to hear, yes, but how does this prove anything? Does someone in the cockpit shout “thanks Moussaoui?” Also, the producers of the Flight 93 film have to love this kind of free publicity. Former mayor Giuliani is set to testify in another move made to play off the emotions of the jury. Moussaoui deserves to die. I’ll argue for that any day. But this parade of claptrap is more than a little disturbing. It’s an attempt by the prosecutors to get mainstream press exposure and make people forget they nearly botched this case. Speaking of 9/11, NY construction workers are still finding body parts.

Inadvertent Second Consecutive Star Wars-Related Video Link of the Week
A 1979 drunk-driving PSA based on the cantina scene.

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