So, today I close out my 75th year. I am thinking about my mom, laying in some bed in Brooklyn on December 17th, 1934, hoping I’d quit fooling around and get my tushie into the real world. She probably had no anesthetic to help her, as she probably had no money to pay for the hospital bill. Nobody had health insurance in those days. You either had money, or you didn’t. If you didn’t, and you had to bring a new kid into the world, you either did it yourself, at home, or you went into some charity hospital. She opted for the latter.
And then, I opened the morning’s newspaper to read that any chance of a government-operated health insurance plan was now officially dead, thanks to that little shit Joe Lieberman. Joe is in the pocket of his Connecticut insurance companies, so of course he is against the “public option”, the only thing that made reform real. And then I thought about all the people, like my mom 75 years ago, who may have to continue scrambling to get their kids decent health care. Thanks again, Joe. We’ll all remember you for a long time.
And elsewhere, the rest of the world’s little shits have officially decided that global warming is something for their grandkids to worry about. Copenhagen will close without results.