No One Wants to Know

This is truly the age of anxiety. We're living with so many arguments unresolved. So many ideological beefs like cars idling at the starting green.

For example: if science could develop tests to effectively determine your medical future, would you want to know it? When?

Should it determine your ability to get medical coverage? What if you were a minefield of medical calamities? Should the medical companies be able to get their hands on that information, if they could? Even if you didn't want it?

The short answer is - too late, those issues will be decided for you.

I was discussing this with a friend, who is a college professor [Ha! Try guessing that one. Half my friends are college professors.] He was discussing privacy, and the subject of being watched/tracked by the government. And I think his students were debating this subject. I gently pointed out to him that on the drive to where we were, we were caught by dozens of security cameras, our cells phones triangulated our whereabouts, and so forth. In short, these students are terrifically naive to think that they will have any say whatsoever with regard to privacy issues.

Delete those cookies? Use an anonymizer? How about a phony address when you sign up to Yahoo! mail? Good luck. You're whistling in the dark.

For example ... in my profession there is this notion of Consumer Directed Health Care. Which means, the consumer gets more ... options. Which means the consumer takes more risk. Which means the consumer also has to disclose more information about their own choice-making. If you choose wisely, you pay less. If you eat at In-N-Out, you pay more.

The endgame is that (a) people with better genetics will pay less for insurance, and (b) people with more discipline and self-control [or people who just like to exercise obsessively] will pay less. So the favored will be favored even more. And their coverage will really only cover pandemics and accidents.

And the disfavored will be taxed up their massive wazoos.

If you hate the thin, healthy and beautiful now, you will really hate them when they are also richer than you are.

Indiana Wants Me

Stuck here in Indianapolis for the week.

Reminds me of a saying a particularly witty ex had. She was from Lemoore in California. She said "It was a dairy area."

I'm a little nervous about being away as the 24-Hour Party People [aka the Roommates] are in charge of the house. I fully expect my dog to be in a roofie coma, dressed in Prada when I return. There is a downside to having 2 Norwegian hotties as roommates. So far the immense charm more than makes up for it.

Everyone who reads this blog should stop and take a moment and witness the convergence of two geniuses: Jennifer Warnes and Leonard Cohen [by way of Bill Elliot who co-wrote the song]: Song of Bernadette. Does this performance make me cry? A little.

Just got some news that my Dad's cousin Phil has had a stroke, and is being cared for at his cousin Loretta's home [where she is also being cared for.] These people are so old and fragile, so wonderful. They've been on the periphery of my life for so long, it's so bittersweet to see them get so frail, they have such intelligence and good humor and vulnerability and grace. The spouses, if they had them, fell a long time ago, and yet they hang on. They're the last ones, next my Dad and his siblings will be become the frail ones.

I'm going to try to get down there and see them on Sunday. It will be emotional.

I have been described as critical. I would think analytical is more accurate. [Now, there is irony. I say something critical defending myself against charges of being critical. But again, what do you do if someone labels you "defensive"? It's a no win.]

I think you can have a low level of ambition and still maintain a fairly high standard of living here in Indiana. The average home sells in the $100s. Irrational exuberance is an unknown combination of words in these parts.

I had more to say, but I'm tired. I saw Crowded House a couple of weeks ago. Kind of a mediocre show by some very talented musicians. Paul Hester's death or absence wasn't addressed. They played a very perfunctory version of "Don't Dream It's Over", which I understand. I think they are trying to de-anthemize the song. And they did. But why the long, sing-along version of "Weather With You"? It's not much of a song. But the version of "Private Universe" was good. And they were very funny. Neil and Nick are like an old, very funny, married couple. Nick is a particularly good bassist.

More Is Better

An ironic post title.

This Owen Wilson thing is food for thought.

First of all, I can never keep them straight, the Wilsons. I thought Owen was the dark-haired one. So when I heard the latest troubling news, it made sense. I thought, "Yes, I always pegged him as a cutter." But when I found out it was the Butterscotch Stallion, it made no sense.

So when I analyze it, I think "99.7% of the male population would love to trade places with this guy, that only proves to me that his mental health problems are real and profound."

Which is not good news.

The main mistake that people make when discussing depression [which I am not necessarily certain correlates with suicidal tendencies] is that they presume that some event or situation triggered the episode. My experience is that mostly it is the opposite - when good/happy stuff happens and you feel nothing, you may have a problem with depression. Or when you avoid the good/happy stuff.

You need to know this stuff, that's why I write it.