The Schrug

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed District 9. But at the same time I couldn’t stop noticing all the bits of this film that reminded me of other films. The ones that occurred to me were:

1. 28 Weeks Later
2. The Fugitive
3. Black Hawk Down
4. E.T.
5. Alien
6. Iron Man
7. The Fly
8. Minority Report
9. Saving Private Ryan

And, of course, The Office.

What’d I miss?

I have just joined The Archimedes Movement, which was founded by John Kitzhaber, the ex-governor of Oregon. Please read their core documents.

• http://www.wecandobetter.org/statement-of-intent
• http://www.wecandobetter.org/principles
• http://www.wecandobetter.org/framework-for-a-new-health-system

Doesn’t everything they say simply make sense?

After watching countless TV ads for life insurance as a child, I finally went to my parents and asked “Do you have life insurance?” They assured me that they did. So I asked the natural follow-up: “Do I have life insurance?” They laughed. “Why would we need life insurance for you?” I was hurt. You see, I had misunderstood. The ads I was watching said “buy life insurance, because you might die.” So I reasoned that buying life insurance was a way to prevent death, and I was sad to find out that my life wasn’t worth the premiums.

I understand the concept of insurance better now than I did then, but the concept of health insurance is in some ways just as baffling to me today as life insurance was then. And I worry that what’s getting overlooked in the current debate about our health care system is just how peculiar the notion of health insurance is.

Think about all the things we normally insure and the hazards we normally insure them against. Usually we insure tangible items: houses, cars, boats, jewelry, etc. And we insure them against very unlikely events: fire, flood, theft, fraud, and so on. This kind of property insurance makes a lot of sense for everyone involved. The big winners, obviously, are people who make claims. They get back far more from the system than they put in. People who never make claims also win, though, because even though they are effectively throwing their money away, they are only out a fraction of what they might otherwise have lost, and they got to sleep better at night. Insurers win because they have very smart people calculating the odds of these unlikely events happening and how much each policy is worth. (For example, if a ring gets stolen, they have to pay whatever that ring was appraised for – not for “a new ring.”) So insurers have a pretty good idea of how much they are likely to pay out each year. Occasionally they encounter insurance fraud, but for the most part they can be assured that their policy holders will take reasonable precautions to prevent the losses from occurring in the first place.

Life and disability insurance are a little trickier because no one can objectively calculate the replacement value for a life or a career. To correct for this, life and disability insurance policies are written with defined benefits. For example, there might be a fixed amount awarded in case of accidental death, and someone who becomes disabled gets awarded a percentage of his or her previous salary. Again, there are instances of fraud (and murder), but generally speaking people would much prefer never to collect on these policies.

Now think about health insurance, and note how radically different “health” is from life, disability, and property:

• Everyone gets sick or injured eventually.
• Defined benefits are usually not part of the equation – certainly not as explicitly as they are with other types of insurance. Some health insurance policies have lifetime benefit limits, but no policies tell you in advance exactly how much will get paid out for every conceivable malady. The general proposition came to be “if you get sick or hurt, we’ll pay for you to get well.” (With the advent of managed care, that got amended: “And we’ll also pay to keep you from getting sick in the first place.”)
• Most people intentionally behave in ways that increase their need to “cash in” on their insurance policies. These behaviors range from things we generally frown upon, like smoking and overeating, to things that are commonly accepted in everyday life, like playing sports or driving a car, to things that are essential to society, like working in dangerous jobs or getting pregnant.

So the very building blocks of what makes the casualty insurance system work – unlikely hazards, defined benefits, and motivation by the insured to avoid claims – are all absent in the health insurance system.

Now add to that the fact that the health care services purchasing market is like no other and you have a real mess.

I was curious as to how this obviously silly idea of health insurance came about so I did a little poking around. There’s clearly enough here for a doctoral dissertation so I won’t attempt to provide “the answer” here. But if you’re interested in the history of health insurance, here are a few links to get you started.

• Timothy Noah, “A Short History of Health Care,” Slate.com, 2007 (this is a review of Sick by Jonathan Cohn)
• Melissa Thomasson, “Health Insurance in the United States,” Economic History Services
• Wisconsin Policy Research Institute, “The History of Health Care Costs and Health Insurance,” 2006

Any health care system that has “insurance” as its foundation is doomed to fail. The only solution as I see it is to define some package of health care services that every resident of this country is entitled to regardless of income, assets, age, medical condition, or any other factor. This package would include preventive measures like annual physicals and vaccinations but not gym memberships. It would include a reasonable standard of care for chronic conditions but not the latest, greatest, and most expensive treatments (even if those treatments were proven to prolong life). It would provide crutches but not million-dollar prosthetics. Most people, of course, would not want their care to limited to such a bare-bones package, and we could let the private sector figure out a way to provide supplemental benefits, like quicker access to a wider range of physicians, more expensive operations and drugs, private hospital rooms, and so on. Ideally the supplemental benefit system would expose the true costs of health care to the consumers and give them an incentive to spend conservatively.

In a system like this, rich people would live longer and more comfortably than poor people. Could we abide such a result? We do now.

I don’t know how long this will be the case, but there is a still photo from “The Flaming of the Shrew” as part of the photo gallery at the International Cringefest ‘09 web site right now. (The photo is the one that includes a crown and a sword. You can’t miss it.) “Shrew” opened on Monday and I’ll be seeing it for the first time tonight. Also featured is a photo from “The Mission,” a great short musical by my friend Kevin Bleau.

I saw last night’s CringeFest show as well and saw some good plays about bad plays, as well as a talented sound-effects comedian. The CringeFest runs through August 9, so check it out!

Something clicked today on the front nine at Leo J. Martin. I had what my wife refers to as “transcendence” or “flow.” In sports terms, I was in the zone. I was unconscious. (Relatively speaking, of course.)

1st: Solid drive into the fairway. On in regulation. Two putts. Par.

2nd: Pulled the drive into the trees on the left, but had a clear shot back to the fairway if I could keep it below the branches. Took out a 7-iron and held the finish low. Perfect – landed right at the 150 marker in the fairway. Knowing that long is death, hit a pitching wedge about 10 yards short of the green. Chipped to 2 feet. Par.

3rd: Tee shot was pin-high but way right. Lobbed it up to a very tricky, very elevated green. Two-putt from 27 feet. Bogey.

4th: Tee shot was OK but a bit left, into the rough. Smashed a 7-iron 180 yards down the fairway (good roll). Intentionally played the approach safe and short again. Chipped to 8 feet and two-putted. Bogey.

5th: Tee shot straight but a bit short. Had to chip uphill with not much green between me and the pin. Something told me exactly how much loft to use. Made the four-foot putt. Par.

6th: Tee shot went left again but luckily bounced right over the fairway bunker. Pulled the approach shot, too, and landed in the fringe. Chip onto the green was OK, not great – left myself a 17-footer uphill and hit a 16.5-foot putt. Bogey.

7th: Used an iron off the tee and put it in the fairway with 135 left. Put a pitching wedge 30 feet below the hole on a severely sloping green. Lagged it to two feet. Par.

9th: Went left on this short par-4 but had only 50 yards to the green. Nice lob wedge to about 10 feet. Two putt. Par.

How about that? A 30-something handicap goes three over par for nine holes and … what? I did what? I didn’t tell you about the 8th hole? Oh, I guess you’re right. Well, if you insist …

8th: On the tee I had one thought: Don’t put it in the trees to the right. So I proceeded to put it in the trees to the right. On my way to the ball I was thinking “just take a bogey and get out of here.” Fortunately, I found the ball, sitting on a pile of leaves even with the 150 marker. I took my 7-iron, hoping to punch it out just like I had on the 2nd hole. I held my club behind the ball, taking aim, and … it moved. I had brushed the club against a leaf and the damned ball moved an eighth of an inch. I thought for a few seconds about the round I was having and about the fact that no one would ever know or really care. But I would know. I counted it as my second stroke. Now I don’t know if the next shot was spoiled by the tree root hidden under the leaves or by my irritation, but in any case I didn’t advance it far enough. I was now sitting only 100 yards out, but still in the rough and with overhanging branches interfering with my shot. I tried to keep it low with a gap wedge, but I struck it almost too well. It hit a branch and popped down – fortunately, this time it was in the fairway. Now I was lying four, though, and praying for double-bogey. I choked way down on a sand wedge and skulled it thirty yards past the green. Now I was tentative and just barely got my pitch back to the fringe. I finally got it on the green with a putter, but not very close. Two-putted. Nine. Quintuple bogey.

Now I can’t be too unhappy with a 44. It’s one of my best 9-hole scores ever. And I’m glad I was able to rebound from that terrible 8th to have a decent 9th. But oh, what could have been.

Whatever mojo was working for me today, I hope it stays with me for a while.

Yes, like Anthony Kim, I shot a 9 today. However, unlike Anthony Kim, that wasn’t even my worst hole. I won’t go into details. The numbers today were too embarrassing. But it was pretty clear where the high score came from. Not putts or short game. It was three balls in the water, two lost, one out of bounds, and one unplayable.

Shake it off, David.

Next up: a charity tournament on Saturday.

I am loving the debate about my alleged traffic violation. I’ve been picked up by UniversalHub and even “the papers.” Most blog posters seem to think I’m in the wrong, but I think the law is clearly on my side when it comes to making a left turn across a double solid yellow line. The Massachusetts RMV drivers manual, chapter 4, says:

Double Yellow Lines: Both Solid
Two solid yellow lines prohibit vehicles moving in either direction from crossing the lines to pass another vehicle. You may not cross these lines unless turning left when it is safe to do so.
[Caption to illustration:] Do not cross a double yellow line unless turning left.

Massachusetts General Laws Chapter 90, Section 14 – the code I allegedly violated – has this and only this to say on the subject of left turns:

When approaching for a left turn on a two-way street, an operator shall do so in the lane of traffic to the right of and nearest to the center line of the roadway and the left turn shall be made by passing to the right of the center line of the entering way where it enters the intersection from his left. When turning to the left within an intersection or into an alley, private road or driveway an operator shall yield the right of way to any vehicle approaching from the opposite direction, including a bicycle on the right of the other approaching vehicles, which is within the intersection or so close thereto as to constitute an immediate hazard. It shall not be a defense for a motorist causing an accident with a bicycle that the bicycle was to the right of vehicular traffic. When approaching for a left turn on a one-way street, an operator shall do so in the lane of traffic nearest to the left-hand side of the roadway and as close as practicable to the left-hand curb or edge of roadway.

As I see it, the only way I can be said to have violated the law is under one of the following conditions:

1. The turn I made was a U-turn rather than a left turn, and U-turns are never permitted across double solid yellow lines.
2. The presence of the traffic island partly blocking the entrance to the driveway is by itself clear evidence that left turns and/or U-turns into the driveway are prohibited.

It is my contention that:

1. The turn was not a U-turn because by the time I started turning in a direction back toward my pre-turn position, I was already in the driveway. In other words, I made a left turn into the entrance of the driveway, then I bore further left after entering the driveway, and then followed the driveway around to the right.
2. Even if the turn was a U-turn, there is no absolute prohibition against U-turns that cross double solid yellow lines.
3. The traffic island’s purpose is to prevent cars that are leaving the driveway from turning left onto Arsenal Street, not to prevent cars Arsenal Street to enter the driveway when it is safe to do so. If left turns into the driveway are prohibited, there should be a “No Left Turn” sign either on Arsenal Street or on the traffic island itself.
4. Because all oncoming traffic was stopped at a light in front of me and I had a clear view of any potential obstacles, there was nothing inherently unsafe about the turn I made.

Here are some additional photos with close-ups of the traffic island:

(note how easily a car turning left can enter the driveway, and the absence of signage on the traffic island)

(a closer view of the driveway entrance)

(if no left turns are permitted, it could and should say so right here)

Some have pointed out that I could have made a left turn into the same parking log another half-block ahead, where there is a traffic light. True enough. But by that reasoning, virtually every U-turn should be prohibited and drivers should always proceed to the next intersection and make a series of left and right turns in order to change direction.

I’ll admit to being impatient, but I won’t admit to being unsafe or to violating the law.

I arrived a few minutes before 9:00 AM at the Waltham District Court and got the last parking space behind the building. I passed through the metal detector and promised to keep my cell phone turned off. I had forgotten to bring the instructions they had mailed me, so I wasn’t sure at first where to go. Fortunately, I found my name on a piece of paper tacked to the wall and made my way up to the Second Session. It was an honest-to-God courtroom, and not, as I’d expected, a little hearing room in the basement. The judge’s bench featured a large black leather chair, a row of black leather-bound law books, and a black Dell computer monitor. We offenders were seated on benches in the back of the room, behind a wooden railing, waiting. A few names were called by a uniformed officer seated in the witness chair. He asked them a few questions and sent them back to their seats. Three other uniforms sat on the side. We waited some more.

Around ten after nine an unrobed man came in, positioned himself in front of the judge’s bench, introduced himself as Mr. Finucane, and explained what was going to happen this morning and what our rights for appeal were in the event that we did not agree with his decision. He swore us in en masse. Then the cases were heard. Mine was third, and up to that point the defendants were zero for two.

A police officer – not the one who had stopped me – read the charges against me. But I had come prepared. I explained that no law prohibited what I had done, and I told Mr. Finucane I had a video recreation of the events in question. He called me to his bench and had me play it, asking me to adjust the screen at one point so that the cop could see it. This is what they saw: (NOTE: This video was uploaded to MSN Soapbox, which is being shut down on August 31, 2009. After that date, the video will no longer be accessible)

As the video played, I pointed out that the traffic light ahead of me had stopped all oncoming traffic and so it was perfectly safe for me to make a left turn. I also pointed out that the entrance into the parking lot was only slightly obstructed and that no U-turn or other unusual maneuver was required for me to enter.

I informed Mr. Finucane that I also had still photographs if he wanted to see them. He declined. I stepped back. He asked no further questions but proceeded to announce the verdict: “I find you responsible …” I was stunned. I immediately announced my intention to appeal. As I signed the requisite form the cop said to me “You know, sir, there’s a traffic island there that’s intended to prevent you from making a left turn at that spot.” “But there’s no sign telling you that you can’t,” I said, “I know that know.” The cop laughed.

I had to pay $50.00 in cash to get the appeals process started. Yes, I’m paying $50.00 to appeal a $35.00 ticket. But the true cost of a moving violation is much larger than the face value, because it affects your auto and umbrella insurance premiums.

My appeal will be heard in six to eight weeks. Free the Watertown One!

18 holes today at Leo J. Martin (white tees, but pushed pretty far forward).

Great: Combined score for 7 holes (1, 2, 3, 6, 9, 11, and 15): One under par!

Good: Combined score for 5 holes (5, 8, 10, 12, and 17): six over par.

Disastrous: Combined score for 6 holes (4, 7, 13, 14, 16, and 18): twenty-seven over par.

Total: Thirty-two over par (104).

What the hell happened?

4th hole, par 5 – (1) Tee shot went straight but left, landed on a side-slope in the rough. (2) Tried to advance the ball down the fairway with a seven-iron but pushed it across the fairway and under/between trees. (3) Tried to chip the ball back to the fairway by hitting it hard with the putter. I’d practiced that shot several times before the round. Didn’t work. Left without a clear shot to the green. (4) Little sand wedge to the middle of the fairway, maybe 110 out. (5) Terrible approach shot, short and way right, almost to the tee box on the second hole. (6) Decent pitch shot onto the fringe. (7) Lag putt, left myself about four feet. (8) Missed a makeable putt. (9) Finally home.

7th hole, par 4 – (1) It’s a short dogleg right, so I used 5-wood off the tee, but I pulled it badly. (2) Took an unplayable lie from under the bushes. (3) Kept hitting a tree branch on my practice backswings. Got all out of rhythm and chunked it. Had about 135 left. (4) Hit a pitching wedge pure, way too pure. Sailed over the green and landed near a fence near a tree and in all kinds of nasty stuff. (5) Hard-putted out of there, successfully this time. (6) Muffed what should have been an easy pitch onto the green. (7) Knocked it onto the green but not close. (8) and (9) Two-putted.

13th hole, par 4 – (1) Blocked my drive to the right and landed beneath some trees. (2) With the ball just inches from a tree trunk, my only option was to hit lefty. I decided to use the hard-putt option again. As I took a practice stroke, my putter got tangled in a vine which then yanked on the ball and moved it six inches. It counts as a stroke. (3) I took another lefty whack at the ball and actually hit a great recovery into the middle of the fairway. But I was still 125 out and had a nasty side-hill lie. (4) With the ball much higher than my feet, I choked down on the club but still hit it quite fat, only about 25 yards. (5) I hit a sand wedge onto the green but it rolled off the back edge onto the fringe. (6) A nice chip with a 9-iron to five or six feet. (7) Missed a makeable putt. (8) Tapped in.

14th hole, par 4 – (1) Drove too far right again, right along the tree line. (2) Pitched out into the fairway. (3) Mental mistake – hit a 5-wood instead of an iron. Got good contact but landed in deep rough with a downhill lie, about 70 yards out. (4) Went for the green with a lob wedge, but as a result of either the peculiar lie or just a very bad swing, I shanked it pin-high but 15 yards into the woods where, unfortunately, it was found. (5) Had to swing lefty again. Whiffed. (6) Still swinging lefty, got terrible contact and advanced it only a few feet. (7) Tried to pitch out of the woods but caught thick foliage. Ball dropped into the rough just barely past the bushes. (8) Had no backswing available and chunked it just a few inches. (9) and (10) Everyone else was done with the hole and I wasn’t on the green yet, so I picked up and called it a 10.

16th hole, par 5 – (1) Yet another drive lost to the right, but not in too much trouble this time. Did land in the rough, though. (2) Turned the club-face over with a 4-hybrid and went across the fairway into the rough. (3) Facing a 225-yard shot from the rough, decided to lay up with a gap wedge hoping to have about 100 left. Hit it fat and had 155 left instead. (4) Hit a very poor 8-iron and still had 60 yards to the center of the green. (5) Landed on the center of the green with a lob wedge but it rolled all the way to the back edge. (6) Had a pretty good lag putt to four or five feet. (7) Missed a makeable putt. (8) Tapped in.

18th hole, par 5 – (1) Hit a 3-wood solidly but too straight on this severe dogleg right. Ended up with a very tall tree between me and the fairway. (2) Tried to go right over the tree with a lob wedge but hit the uppermost branches. Ball ended up at the base of the tree. (3) From a tricky lie with the ball above my feet, hit a nice 6-iron to the middle of the fairway, about 155 out. (4) Hit a poor approach shot, short and left of the green. (5) Pitched onto the green but way too hard, and ended up in the rough on an up-slope behind the green. (6) Tried to pop the ball up onto the green but chunked it only a couple of feet. (7) Got it on the green, still quite far from the hole. (8) Put a decent lag putt within 6 feet. (9) Missed a makeable putt. (10) Almost missed the tap-in, but didn’t.

If I’d only been able to limit each of those six disaster holes to double-bogeys, I would have broken 90 for the first time ever. Even with six triple-bogeys I would have broken 100. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

Nevertheless, I feel pretty good about the round. I know that I am physically capable of really good scores, and I’m happy with the 47 I scored on the front 9 (two disasters notwithstanding). So now if I can just stay out of the trees …

Really, a number of things went right today on the front nine at Robert T. Lynch in Brookline. Six decent tee shots. Only 30 strokes from within 100 yards. Three decent recoveries out of three attempts. Only one really poorly struck ball. And yet … double bogey, double bogey, triple bogey, bogey, bogey, double bogey, quadruple bogey, bogey, double bogey. Eighteen over par, 54 strokes total. What happened?

I lost four strokes to wildness right off the bat. My tee shot on one was lost in the woods and my approach on two (after a great tee shot) went out of bounds – both right. And then my putter went on strike. I had two three-putts, a four-putt, and a five-putt, making only 9 of 17 makeable putts for the round. (Two of the missed putts were impatient jabs from about two feet.)

If I make all the makeable putts and keep those two balls in play I’m looking at a 42. If, if, if …

Next outing is Saturday morning. I will be spending a lot of time on the practice green before that round!