Deadly Indifference

Deadly Indifference: The Perfect (Political) Storm: Hurricane Katrina, the Bush White House, and Beyond by Michael D. Brown

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

At times throughout Deadly Indifference, the information about and the story of Katrina became particularly intriguing, even exciting for me to read. Unfortuneatly, those moments were too few. There was a lot of repetition in this book, specifically the stating over and over again that Mayor Ray Nagin should have called for a mandatory evacuation of New Orleans. But in this regard, I believe Mr. Brown made his point particularly well. I suspect that if Mayor Nagin had ordered a mandatory evacuation, Michael Brown would not have had a need to write this book. The book starts off a little slow with too many pages spent on the 1951 cold war civil defense film Duck and Cover. Later in the book there is a passage about a toddler that choked on a hot dog and the grieving mother’s crusade against the design of hot dogs, which left me to wonder if the author had earned his fee by the word count. The best chapters are smack in the middle of the book, where the reading is most interesting and the material exciting too. In the end, I finished the book feeling like Katrina was a disaster made worse by politicians making decisions based on their own best interest, and events exaggerated by misinformation peddled by a media where “everyone wanted to be first more than anyone wanted to be accurate.”

View all my reviews

It’s Not Brain Surgery

Government run health insurance programs often reimburse physicians at rates that are less than the actual cost of treatment and as a result, some physicians are choosing to opt-out of the system. Today, 13% of all physicians no longer accept Medicare and nearly 33% refuse to participate in the Medicaid program.

Ayn Rand wrote about State controlled healthcare in her 1957 novel, Atlas Shrugged:

“I quit when medicine was placed under State control, some years ago,” said Dr. Hendricks. “Do you know what it takes to perform a brain operation? Do you know the kind of skill it demands, and the years of passionate, merciless, excruciating devotion that go to acquire that skill? That was what I would not place at the disposal of men whose sole qualification to rule me was their capacity to spout the fraudulent generalities that got them elected to the privilege of enforcing their wishes at the point of a gun. I would not let them dictate the purpose for which my years of study had been spent, or the conditions of my work, or my choice of patients, or the amount of my reward. I observed that in all the discussions that preceded the enslavement of medicine, men discussed everything—except the desires of the doctors. Men considered only the ‘welfare’ of the patients, with no thought for those who were to provide it. That a doctor should have any right, desire or choice in the matter, was regarded as irrelevant selfishness; his is not to choose, they said, only ‘to serve.’ That a man who’s willing to work under compulsion is too dangerous a brute to entrust with a job in the stockyards—never occurred to those who proposed to help the sick by making life impossible for the healthy. I have often wondered at the smugness with which people assert their right to enslave me, to control my work, to force my will, to violate my conscience, to stifle my mind—yet what is it that they expect to depend on, when they lie on an operating table under my hands? Their moral code has taught them to believe that it is safe to rely on the virtue of their victims. Well, that is the virtue I have withdrawn. Let them discover the kind of doctors that their system will now produce. Let them discover, in their operating rooms and hospital wards, that it is not safe to place their lives in the hands of a man whose life they have throttled. It is not safe, if he is the sort of man who resents it—and still less safe, if he is the sort who doesn’t.”

Obamacare was designed to provide universal healthcare coverage, but with one critical oversight; the focus has been almost entirely on the patient, with little or no consideration given to those providing the care.

The United States already faces a growing physician shortage. Can we expect it to get worse?

Effective January 1, 2015, a provision of Obamacare goes into effect that will tie physician payments to patient outcome. Physicians will see their payments modified so that those who provide “higher value care” will receive higher payments while those who provide “lower quality care” will receive lower payments.

Ask yourself, should you ever become extremely sick, what doctor would want to risk their “higher value care” payment to treat you?

Heck of a job, Brownie

In his first book, former FEMA Director and Guymon native, Michael Brown, tells the story of our government’s response to one of the greatest natural disasters ever to occur in the United States. Without making excuses for anyone, least of all the President of the United States or himself, Mr. Brown describes in detail what ultimately turned out to be the largest federal response to a natural disaster in U.S. history.

“He failed to comprehend the magnitude of the story, the critical timing for evacuation, and the services and personnel that was needed.”

“I had specifically requested that time alone with the ‘Boss,’ as we called him among ourselves, so that I could explain to him, in person, how badly things were going.”

“Thus, when the president, in his usual cheerleading mode, turned to me after being complimented by my friend Governor Riley of Alabama, and publicly pinned his previously private nickname on me along with the ‘heck of a job’ accolade, the video shows me wincing. I had just been telling him how bad things were and what help I needed. Had he been ignoring me?”

When making the now famous comment, “Brownie, you’re doing a heck of a job,” was President George W. Bush simply being supportive of his embattled FEMA Director, or did the President of the United States fail to fully comprehend the severity of the situation on the ground in New Orleans?

Deadly Indifference: The Perfect (Political) Storm: Hurricane Katrina, The Bush White House, and Beyond, is available in bookstores beginning Thursday, June 16, 2011.

“The president didn’t get it at first. Not many people did.”

Nowata-31, Pryor-28

Although this blog headline might sound like it, Nowata did not actually beat Pryor in some sporting event by the score of -31 to -28. These numbers are rather, the record low temperatures in Oklahoma this morning which shattered the Oklahoma Territory all-time record low of -27 first recorded over 100 years ago on February 13, 1905 in Vinita. Wow! That occurred before Oklahoma was even a state. It has only gotten down to 27 below in Oklahoma twice since: once in Watts on January 18, 1930 and then again yesterday, February 9, 2011, in Bartlesville.

You have to feel a little sorry for the poor folks in Pryor. To put up with temperatures colder than ever recorded in Oklahoma Territory history and not even end up setting a state record. At least Bartlesville enjoyed its place of dubious honor while being tied with the state record for one whole day. I should mention that Bartlesville got down to 28 below this morning too, besting there own record from yesterday.

What is going on with all this cold weather? Where is Al Gore when we need him to fly his high carbon emission private jet in the skies above Oklahoma? Here is a note to Al Gore: we WANT global warming!!! Just a little, please!?!

But wait, according to United States Senator James Mountain “Jim” Inhofe of the Great State of Oklahoma, the global warming theory is just a hoax anyway. Given the record cold temperatures lately, I tend to agree with him.

In this morning’s The Oklahoman, there was a page 5 headline reading, “Inhofe argues against warming theory.” That’s right, and Sen. Jim Inhofe has finally finished writing a book that he called “Hoax” in reference to his description of the global warming theory. The story in The Oklahoman by Chris Casteel went on to say –

“You’ll be the first to receive an autographed copy,” Infofe, R-Tulsa, told California Rep. Henry Waxman on Wednesday at a House subcommittee hearing on whether the Environmental Protection Agency should be able to regulate greenhouse gases.

Inhofe 1, Waxman 0.

You certainly do have to appreciate a Senator with a good sense of humor. I am proud he is representing Oklahomans, although a little global warming would be kind of nice, right about now.

In Stitches

After the Pres took a shellacking on the basketball court this morning the American people may finally get some hope and change we can believe in. We can hope the stitches stay in for a while and thereby silence the TOTUS. That would certainly be a welcome change.

Here’s an idea: What uh-if-uh the-uh Teleprompter-uh Of The-uh United States (TOTUS) uh just let us uh-read his speeches-uh uh-ourselves?

I don’t really think the big O would go for my idea though, because then we’d all find out his secret to being such a-uh good uh-communicator.

Uh, oh well.

Future Snipes

While dozing on the couch watching television last evening, the lights in my house suddenly flickered and the cable went out briefly. I was a bit groggy when it happened, but what I saw on my TV right after that totally shocked me. It was as if I were transported forward to some time in the future. Thinking I had fallen asleep and was merely dreaming this, I began pinching myself frantically trying to wake up, but I could not wake myself. I remember thinking I wanted to record what was on the TV. I grabbed my cell phone to take a picture of it, but the battery was dead. Then I blacked out. That is the last thing I can remember.

I woke up in my own bed this morning. I must have been extremely tired last night. I do not even remember getting up off the couch and going to bed. I thought about that dream off and on all day long, while at work today. When I got home from work tonight and began to watch the evening news, I was shocked.

“This cannot be happening,” I thought to myself. “I had a weird dream, something about Wesley Snipes, just last night.”

It does not seem fair to me that Wesley Snipes has to go to jail for not paying his taxes, while a sitting US Congressman can get away with it scot-free. Something is terribly wrong with this picture.

“Picture,” I mouthed to myself. “That’s it!” I squealed.

Grabbing my cell phone, I hurriedly opened its photo album. I cannot explain the photograph I found, nor do I fully comprehend what happened to me last night. But it happened, and here is the photographic evidence.

You be the Judge.

Stoned

U.S. District Court Judge Vicki Miles-LaGrange ruled on Monday that over 70 percent of Oklahoma voters got it wrong when they passed a constitutional amendment prohibiting the use of Sharia Law when making a ruling.

Claiming the law violates his constitutional rights, Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) executive director Muneer Awad said, “We are humbled by this opportunity to show our fellow Oklahomans that Muslims are their neighbors and that we are committed to upholding the U.S. Constitution and promoting the benefits of a pluralistic society.”

Just trying to be neighborly, huh? Well that sure is nice of you Mr. Adickwad, but pardon me while I trying to hold back my gag reflex.

This really looks to me like CAIR is committed to upholding Sharia Law, not the U.S. Constitution. Could it be more obvious? Maybe Adickwad should have said, “We are committed to upholding Sharia Law and if you try to steel that away from us we’ll have to cut off your hands.”

Judge Vicki ought to be an object lesson for anyone who ever considered voting for a democrat. Vote for a democrat, and this is the kind of judicial activism you can expect from the bench. Barack Hussein Obama considered her as a nominee to the Supreme Court, and probably would again if given the opportunity to make another nomination. Although, I do feel a little sorry for the Judge, as apparently when issuing this injunction against the people of Oklahoma, Miles-LaGrange failed to realize that under Sharia Law [Qur’an 33:5] she could be in big trouble for hyphenating her last name.

Maybe she thought getting stoned meant getting high.

For her, maybe it did?

Mac Attack

When my kids were young, I used to swing by McDonald’s on my way home from work every Family Night to pick up Happy Meals. I remember how I always had to make sure I got the right combination of boy and girl toys. The Happy Meals were cheaper on Family Night so as a provider trying to make ends meet, Mickey Dee’s was my lowest cost option. While it is true that my kids loved these little toys, the low price was undoubtedly the overriding factor in my decision.

Today there are several debates raging over the toys that come in Happy Meals.

One point of contention seems to be that McDonald’s specifies the gender preference of its toys. Maybe I am just being a little dense, but I think if a toy is born that way, why not specify? The bashers believe that toys should be gender-neutral. After all, “What father wants his sons to be limited in their choices?” Ah.., me.

Another point of concern surfaced recently because apparently kids in San Francisco are eating these toys and getting fat. I totally understand why the San Francisco Board of Supervisors are trying to curb childhood obesity. After all, fat kids might grow up to become fat adults, and what adult looks good in a pair of leather jeans when their ass is too fat. Plus, imagine the disappointment of ordering a Happy Meal and spethifying a boy-toy, only to find a tiny plastic Alien figurine in your box. I am sure that would be very uncomfortable.

Welcome to San Francisco, did you want that with fries or a fruit?

I Voted

I was the 5th or 6th person to get into a line that had formed in front of City Hall in the dark just before 7:00 am Tuesday morning. With only a few minutes to go before the poll was to open, we could clearly see inside through the outer glass wall into the well-lit polling place. The three election workers scurried around in preparation for the day. One fellow wondered aloud about what time the workers must arrive to set everything up by 7:00, but none of us knew. It was quite chilly out and a little breezy. The scotch tape holding up the “Vote Here” sign on the front door came loose and the sign fell down. I walked over and taped it back up. Joking about the sign falling off, we all laughed. All Americans, all Oklahomans.

The doors opened to the polling place with only a minute to spare. Our precinct poll workers have been the very same three ladies for several election cycles now. One of the poll workers is the mother of Michael Brown who was the FEMA Director during Hurricane Katrina. Guymon is a small town, and so I am casually acquainted with all three of these women. It must have been a little hectic getting the poll set up this morning, as they seemed slightly harried, not quite as relaxed or talkative as usual, but still just as polite as can be.

After officially signing in with the first women, the second handed me my ballot and quickly greeted me by my first name before I moved off to an open poll enclosure to fill in my ballot. I completed my ballot, carefully fed it into the ballot box machine, and walked over to turn my ballot marker back in to the third.

“Thank you for voting,” Mrs. Brown said as she peeled an “I Voted” sticker off the roll, leaned forward, and handed it to me.

“You’re welcome,” I grinned as I proudly applied the “I Voted” sticker beside the company logo on my Polo shirt and began to walk away. Then pausing, I turned back to her and quietly added, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

I knew she got my meaning as she reclined slightly in her chair, looked up and with a calm confidence replied, “Neither would I.”

Tuesday was a long day for me, heading out early to the polls and then staying up late to watch the election results on TV that night. While not trilled with every single race across the entire country, the races in Oklahoma all turned out the way I had hoped, each and every one of them. These results made for a perfect ending to a long Election Day for this Oklahoma Panhandler.

I would not have missed it for the world.

Pollsters

My phone has been ringing off the hook lately with all the last minute campaigning and polling in advance of tomorrow’s midterm elections. You really have to scramble to answer the phone or those robocalls will hang up before you pick up. I had a robocall last night suggest I vote for a democrat because they were conservative. Apparently, liberal democrat is a pejorative in Oklahoma, but if you are a conservative democrat you might stand a chance. I told the robocaller that there is no such thing as a conservative democrat. Even talking back to some prerecorded spiel makes me feel better, just to get it off my chest.

My latest call was one of those last minute public opinion polls. I always talk gruff with these callers in the beginning, just to make sure that they know that if they want to come to my house to test my tap water, they will have to test the tap water at the Oklahoma State Attorney General’s Office first. Remember the good old days when telemarketing was perfectly legal?

I agreed to answer a few questions, and the pollster began with the simple qualifying question, “Are you registered to vote?”

“Yes, and I’m a legal resident too.”

I never understood why they still ask me my party affiliation after that, but they almost always do.

“Which best describes how likely you are to vote in the upcoming election? I do not plan to vote. I probably will not vote. I will most likely not vote if it rains. I might vote. I will vote if I remember. I will probably vote. I will definitely vote. I will definitely vote early and often.”

“Can you repeat the choices?”

Finally, determining that I am definitely going to vote, the pollster needs to see if I come from the appropriate demographics and then we can continue, so they ask, “In what year were you born?”

I proudly boast, “Nineteen Fifty Five.”

“No more questions.” Click.

A little disappointed not to be part of the opinion poll, I plead with the dial tone, “But people tell me I look young for my age.”

I slowly hang up the phone, reflecting, then chuckling, “I may be too old to matter, but I am not too old to vote.”

See you at the polls.