From the GREAT STATE OF MAINE…
Looking Back on Four Years of Obamacare
With only ten days to go before the Trump-truncated 2019 enrollment period ends in most states, I thought I'd weigh on how I'm feeling these days about being covered by the Affordable Care Act.
For one thing, I feel nauseous. And fatigued. My tongue tastes like I've been licking the inside of the formulation tanks at Roche Pharmaceuticals. I get these crazy bouts of hiccups and cold chills. I have a fading scar from 2017 running up and down my belly, and four smaller ones from 2018 surrounding it. These are the results of the two recent abdominal surgeries and subsequent chemotherapy sessions (11 so far) to remove and destroy all remnants of the cancer that decided I'd make a fine host for their Sandals Resort expansion.
Which is to say I feel fantastic these days about the Affordable Care Act coverage I sign up for every year at healthcare.gov! My humble silver plan has been golden: affordable premium with the subsidy, great coverage, no lifetime caps, decent deductibles, and no pre-existing condition nonsense. My non-profit insurer has been great, not to mention the health professionals who work on and behind the front lines.
For most of my life, my health insurance was covered either through my parents' policy or my employers'. Thankfully, I hardly ever needed it. I understood that the premiums were going to those who did need it, not being thrown down some giant socialism hole.
After losing my last job and running through the criminally-expensive COBRA period, individual health insurance became unaffordable and I dropped out of the system for five years. Had what happened to my gut happened circa 2009-2013, my options would've been two-fold: 1) die and leave my money to my partner Michael (now on an ACA plan of his own) or 2) Wipe out my finances to fight the first cancer scare and be utterly unprepared for the second. But I'm happy to say that however the ACA sausage was made back in 2009-2010---and acknowledging that it'll need a lot of restoration and improvement once Donald Death Panel leaves---it works.
And that's why, regardless of how shitty I'm feeling from Monday's chemo treatment, I'm headed over to HealthCare.gov today to check out the options for 2019, fully aware that the deadline is December 15th. (Charles Gaba has an excellent rundown of what’s what and when’s when here at ACA Signups, and Joan McCarter is doing a fantastic job keeping everyone up to speed.) I encourage you to do the same. Because the alternatives are pretty shitty.
Cheers and Jeers starts below the fold... [Swoosh!!] RIGHTNOW! [Gong!!]
Cheers and Jeers for Wednesday, December 5, 2018
Note: The federal government is essentially shut down today for the funeral of George H.W. Bush. No mail means no bills. Thanks, 41!
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By the Numbers:
Days 'til baby Santa classes up the manger: 15
Days 'til the Ithaca Ice Festival in New York: 1
Percent of Americans who believed in 2017 that there's "solid evidence" that global warming is occurring, versus 52% in 2010, according to the National Surveys on Energy and the Environment: 73%
Copies of Michelle Obama's Becoming that were sold in the first 15 days: 2 million
Minimum number of Marriott Hotel guests whose personal information was hacked over a four-year period: 500 million
Percent of non-Christians who say they celebrate Christmas, according to Pew research: 87%
Year our conservative ancestors, the Puritans, banned Christmas in Boston: 1647
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Mid-week Rapture Index: 182 (including 7 earthquakes and 1 Pat Robertson: real Victor of Gulf War I). Soul Protection Factor 24 lotion is recommended if you’ll be walking amongst the heathen today.
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Puppy Pic of the Day: Only a buck…
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CHEERS to meeting our new neighbor. Hey, everybody, say hello to Bennu, the asteroid that just got its front door knocked on yesterday by the OSIRIS-REx probe. Click and watch the little charcoal briquette twirl in excitement:
Says NASA: “The spacecraft will spend almost a year surveying the asteroid with five scientific instruments with the goal of selecting a location that is safe and scientifically interesting to collect the sample. OSIRIS-REx will return the sample to Earth in September 2023.” Their wedding will be two days later in the National Cathedral.
JEERS to more evidence of the Great Bamboozle of 2017. Republicans swore on their mother’s graves that the middle class would benefit from their daylight heist on behalf of the billionaires because all that money at the top would trickle down. It’s been a year and you can predict the outcome:
A surprising number of workers aren’t seeing any wage growth at all. Their pay this year is exactly the same as it was last year, right down to the dollar. [...]
And note that the plight of these workers with frozen wages looks even worse once you account for inflation. [...]
Over time, you’d expect to see a symmetric up-and-down pattern in the number of workers without raises, driven by a well-known phenomenon called sticky wages. It works like this: Even when the economy is bad, employers are reluctant to cut pay, for fear of lowering morale and productivity. So workers lucky enough to avoid a layoff instead find their salaries frozen in place. Then, as the economy improves, regular raises return. Except this time this unusually large number of workers is still stuck with frozen paychecks.
Meanwhile, the feet of an unusually large number of Republican politicians who passed this dreck are far from frozen---they’re packin’ up and getting ready to flee the House, some of ‘em by their own accord, but many by getting tossed out on their ears November 6th. Special message to Ayn Rand’s #1 fan: after you turn the lights out for the last time, do us all a favor: go Galt already.
JEERS to the long wait. Yesterday Robert Mueller was supposed to file a memo explaining all the bad, bad, bad, lock-him-up kinda things former National Security Adviser and American traitor Michael Flynn got himself involved in, so this was my day yesterday: [Refresh] [Refresh] [Refresh] [Refresh] [Refresh] [Refresh] It wasn’t until 8:30 that the tweets began to roll in. And here some of what came across our eyeballs to give you a taste:
- Robert Mueller releases heavily-redacted Michael Flynn memo—and recommends no prison after cooperation
- They black out parts that they don’t want revealed. This tells me 2 things. 1. Investigation is not close to completion yet. 2. There’s a lot Flynn has shared about Donald Trump.
- Flynn has given "substantial" assistance to the special counsel, including documents and communications
- Mueller asking zero jail time for Flynn means Flynn has been VERY helpful and Trump is totally screwed. Best infrastructure week yet.
- Mueller is asking the court to let Flynn go scot-free, meaning that he must have extracted substantially valuable information from Flynn. I expect Trump to go into a convulsive paroxysm of tweeter shit-throwing by morning!
- Flynn, a retired Army lieutenant general, met with prosecutors 19 times since pleading guilty Dec. 1, 2017.
- For Flynn to go from facing 5 years in jail to potentially 0 means that he must have given up information that was incredibly valuable.
So Flynn and Cohen have faithfully spilled their guts. Manafort double-perjured and will be going to prison for the rest of his life. And it’s all uphill from here. Speaking of which, it looks like under-the-rader-til-now Creep Veep Mike Pence should be getting ready for his close-up:
Oh, dear. Mother isn’t going to take this well. Not well at all.
CHEERS to sweet victory. On today's date in 1792, George Washington won reelection. It was a brutal campaign. His challenger was a real jerk named...um...George Washington. Watching him debate himself was actually a little creepy: "Shan't!" "Shall!" "Shan't!" "Shall!" "Thy wife weareth the boots of a paymaster in the Continental Army!" "Okay, okay...thou hast me there, I concedeth the point." "Then bullocks to you, I win!" Oh...Did I mention he owned his own distillery?
JEERS to Trump's big mouth, and why people should stop listening to it. Very simple:
Monday: Trump says tariffs with China to end. Dow climbs 287 points.
Tuesday: Trump reverses, says "I'm a tariff man." Dow falls 799 points.
This is part 345 in a 499,990-part series. Pace yourself. And stay hydrated.
CHEERS to "Martin Van Ruin." Our 8th president turns 236 today (but he doesn’t look a day over 192). In the negative column, he sat around picking his nose during the depression and panic of 1837, did nothing about slavery, and was on duty during the time of the shameful Trail of Tears. In the plus column, he averted conflicts with Britain and Canada. In the "sleeping on the couch" column, he never once mentioned his wife, Hannah (who died at 36 before he reached the White House), in his autobiography. Interesting tidbit from The Secret Lives of the U.S. Presidents by Cormac O'Brien:
Martin Van Buren was renowned for not taking a stand.
One story, which Van Buren admits to in his autobiography, tells how one senator accepted a bet that he could actually make Van Buren admit to something with finality. "It's been rumored that the sun rises in the east," said the senator to Van Buren. "Do you believe it?" "Well, Senator," came the reply, "I understand that's the common acceptance, but as I never get up till after dawn, I can't really say."
Oh, and before his one-way trip to the Alamo, Congressman Davy Crocket said: “Martin Van Buren is laced up in corsets, such as women in a town wear, and if possible tighter than the best of them. It would be difficult to say from his personal appearance, whether he was a man or a woman, but for his large red and gray whiskers." Fox News would never hire Crockett as a pundit today. Too restrained.
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Ten years ago in C&J: December 5, 2008
CHEERS to lightin' up less. For the first time since, like, ever, the percent of smokers in America is below 20 percent (19.8 to be precise). But that still leaves 43 million people who lose 11 minutes off their life every time they smoke. One person who doesn’t anymore is my partner, Michael, who has been cig-free for 6 months as of yesterday. The only downside so far: now he knows what my cooking really tastes like.
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And just one more…
CHEERS to blowing this popsicle stand. Whenever the shit gets too deep here on the bluish-brown marble, I head over to NASA's site to see if our new Space Force is conquering every ball of gas and rock in the known galaxy. Sorry to say the answer is no, so we'll just have to spend our days and nights gazing yonward and dreaming. This month’s major celestial events are the Geminid meteor shower, a comet, and lots of hot planet-on-planet action. Here's NASA's Jane Houston Jones with a preview, and while you're watching, we advise you pull out a hanky for what comes next:
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What you just watched was the final broadcast of What's Up? with writer and narrator Jane Houston Jones at the helm. Her soothing voice, tinged with just a touch of enthusiastic pluck, has been NASA's voice for these monthly updates since 2007, guiding us to crane our necks for all the eclipses, planets, comets, constellations, and meteor showers. Next month brings with it a new host, and we hope NASA chooses well. In the meantime, fare thee well, and thanks for an 11-year job well done, June Houston Jones. We hope you enjoy the retirement gift we all sprung for ya: a bedroom constellation projector...
Happy dreams about out theeeeeere...
Have a happy humpday. Grammy Awards come out this morning. John Williams fans are waiting with bated breath: will he be nominated for The Post...or The Last Jedi? Floor's open...What are you cheering and jeering about today?
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Today's Shameless C&J Testimonial
Hot Mic Catches Trump Awkwardly Leaving Cheers and Jeers kiddie pool: “Get Me Outta Here”
---Mediaite
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