Obamacare - A Tax After All?

As the Supreme Court handed down their ruling on President Obama's healthcare legislation yesterday, the contrast in reactions was clearly evident. There were huge celebrations by the supporters, while opponents showed signs of disbelief.

There were two unexpected surprises in the course of the ruling. Number one, Chief Justice John Roberts, who was appointed by George W. Bush and opposed by then Senator Barrack Obama, voted to uphold the healthcare bill. He proved to be the swing vote in the 5-4 decision. No surprise, this angered many conservatives who felt that Roberts betrayed them. Back in 2009, while voting against Roberts' confirmation, Senator Barrack Obama argued that Roberts lacked a heart and sided with the strong while opposing the weak*. I can't help but wonder if President Obama still feels the same way about him now. Can we expect to see the two of them sharing a beer in the near future?

The second surprise rocked many people like a Mike Tyson uppercut. When the healthcare bill was being pushed back in 2009, we were consistently told by Obama, Pelosi and crew that the individual mandate was not a tax. Many thought that the individual mandate would be struck down on the grounds of our Constitution's Commerce Clause. But in an unexpected twist, the Supreme Court upheld the individual mandate on the grounds that it is a tax! Huh??

Here's what I find most troubling........ Barrack Obama was a law professor at the University of Chicago Law School for twelve years. His specialty? Constitutional law! Are we to believe that a 12-year Constitutional law professor did not know that the individual mandate was not a tax? Or did the President flat out lie to the American people to get them to buy into his controversial healthcare plan? 

So, in a nut shell, starting in 2016, if you choose not to purchase health insurance you will be "taxed" to the tune of $695 or 2.5% percent of your income, whichever happens to be greater. So basically, you're being taxed for something that you don't own! My concern is that we may be opening a Pandora's Box. What's next? Say the government requires everyone to drink eight glasses of water a day. Can we expect to be "taxed" if we fail to meet the quota? And now with all of the soda bans coming down the pipe, will I eventually be taxed or arrested if I get caught hitting on a Big Gulp behind the 7-11? It might sound like a joke, but I'm really concerned.

So......... what does the Obamacare, officially known as the Affordable Care Act, mean for all of us? Here are a few of the other highlights (or lowlights) depending on how you feel about it: **/***

• Healthcare coverage will now be available for more than 30 million people who are currently uninsured. An estimated 18 million will go under Medicaid. States will receive federal funding to add more low income people to the program.
• Drug and medical device companies will see roughly $47 billion dollars in new taxes. This, in all likelihood, will cause overall healthcare cost to rise. 
• The Flexible Spending Accounts will cap out at $2500. This will be a big blow to middle class families with special needs children.
• There is an Indoor Tanning Services Tax of 10%.
• The Medical Itemized Deduction Hurdle will be raised from the current 7.5% to 10% in 2013. The is the hurdle that must be met before you can take the deduction on your federal taxes. Another change that will be felt mostly by the middle class.
• The Medicine Cabinet Tax took effect in 2011. This tax prohibits the reimbursement for over-the-counter medicine from employee's Health Savings Accounts.
• Insurance companies will no longer be able to drop people from coverage if they get sick. Along the same lines, they will not be able to deny coverage for people with pre-existing conditions
• It's estimated that small businesses will see $52 billion in new taxes
• Companies with more than 50 employees will be fined $2000 per worker if the company does not provide health insurance and any of their employees receives federal healthcare subsidies.
• Each year $125 million will go to subsidize school-based healthcare centers and programs to reduce teen pregnancy. There is no requirement to inform the parents of the services received, including abortions.
• Many doctors are considering abandoning any government sponsored healthcare insurance, stating that the regulations are too high and the reimbursement is too low.
• Parents can keep their children on their healthcare plans until the age of 26

While campaigning, Obama promised that households making less than $250,000 would not see a tax increase while he was in office. Hmmm........

I guess I have to agree with VP Joe Biden in the sense that this is definitely a big f*ckin' deal....

kw

* http://nbcpolitics.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2012/06/28/12463744-after-awkward-start-obama-roberts-relationship-finds-harmony-for-one-day?lite

** http://useconomy.about.com/od/healthcarereform/f/What-Is-Obama-Care.htm

*** http://www.doughroller.net/news-analysis/health-care-reform-bill-facts-figures/

Soda Bans - Could Your City Be Next?

I've recently been reading about the proposed soda bans in New York City and Cambridge, MA. In a nutshell, both places are considering limiting the serving size of the sugary refreshments to sixteen ounces. This would instantly kill the legendary Big Gulp in it's tracks.

This bold move is being considered in an effort to combat obesity and diabetes, especially among kids. On the surface, I can understand the need to address this issue. However, I have a major problem when the government interferes with personal things like our eating habits. Sure, there's a lot of fat people in this country, but should Uncle Sam really be taking on the role of the Food Police??

Is the consumption of Coke and Pepsi contributing to America's obesity problem? To some degree, I would say that it is. But don't you think that there is a much deeper problem. For instance, when I grew up, every kid in the neighborhood drank plenty of soda. And the only diet soda back then was Tab, which had such a nasty saccharin aftertaste that no kid in his right mind would want to drink it.

Sure, there was an overweight kid here and there (I was husky primarily due to my love of Tastyklairs), but nothing like today. The big difference is that back then, kids actually went outside and moved around. I can remember looking forward to that cold bottle of Coca-Cola after playing baseball all day in the hot summer heat.  The exercise of today's kids is pretty much limited to moving their thumbs around a Playstation joy-pad. Will the government's next move be to limit the amount of time a kid can play his X-box in a single day? Actually, that might be more effective than banning sodas.....

And even if the government starts putting limits on sodas, how will they enforce it? If someone goes into a 7-11 and buys two 16-ounce bottles of Mountain Dew, will be immediately reported to the authorities? This will inevitably leave urban cops deciding whether to deal with a flash mob at the Royal Farms or a "controlled-substance" violation at the 7-11.

And what happens at the grocery store? Will the 12-pack of Pepsi be a thing of the past? And will we say goodbye to the 2-liter bottle which is how most kids are introduced to the metric system?? And what will the movie theaters do? After all, the bulk of their profits come from serving five-gallon tubs of Coke and popcorn. Can they possibly survive if they're forced to serve 12-ounce cans of cola?

Personally, I don't drink a whole lot of soda, so it won't really affect me that much. But I also don't like the idea of the government getting involved in our personal lives any more than it already is......

kw

Talking Through The Noise

I like to think of myself as a "people person". Aside from Bob Irsay and that guy who stole my 10-speed when I was a kid, I generally like people. So when I'm out and about, I like to talk to folks about everything from politics to the ridiculous price that the Greene Turtle charges for a Fat Tire draft.

Well, as much as I love a good conversation, here is where the problem comes in. When I'm in a loud place, such as a rock concert or even a football game, I will inevitably run into several people that I haven't seen in a while. This, of course, always initiates some type of verbal exchange.

As the blaring noise shakes the room, I lock eyes with the other person. There's always that moment of "should I just give a quick head nod or go over and attempt to have what always turns out as an impossible conversation". Before I can decide, we start walking towards one another....

It always starts off with a hand shake. Then, I'll usually just smile and wait for the incoherent words from the other guy. Since I can't possibly hear anything he says, I have to attempt to read his lips and facial expressions. Allowing the other person to go first gives me the advantage as I know he'll probably start off with something along the lines of "How are you doing?" This makes it easy for me, as I'll scream back over the loud music, "I CAN'T COMPLAIN. HOW ABOUT YOU!!?"

 When the reply comes back, it can get quite tricky. Sometimes I'll read the lips and facial expression totally wrong. One time, an old acquaintance and I were taking turns shouting in each other's ear. At one point, he got somewhat excited and went on a five-minute tirade. When he finished, he stared at me with a half-smile, which invited a response from me. I really didn't hear anything the guy said, but instead of asking him to repeat it, I rolled the dice and screamed into his ear, "MAN! THAT'S FREGGIN' AWESOME! GLAD TO HEAR IT!" The confused look on his face told me that I said something wrong, so I had no choice but to admit that I didn't understand his previous comment. It turns out the poor guy was telling me that his wife had left him for another guy. And here I am telling him that I'm glad to hear it. I felt like a total idiot.

I recently ran into another guy that I used to see at the gym years ago. Unlike me, he looked like he was still spending time in the gym. So, instead of screaming back and forth, I just did one of those bodybuilder poses where you put your arms in front and clinch your face until your head turns blue. After my "pose", I pointed to the guy. He knew I was giving him a compliment, so he laughed and gave me a high five. In a moment of silent lucidity, we reconnected without ever saying a word.

Ordering a drink in a loud place can also be an adventure. One time, I attempted to order a Landshark (for those who don't get out much, this is a brand of beer). Well, the waitress hands me a "girly-looking" mixed drink. I stare at the drink for a few seconds and then ask her, "Are you trying to get me beat up? I just want a Landshark." When I see that she still can't understand me, I go into an impromptu shark impersonation which immediately draws some unwanted attention from the other bar patrons. But as crazy as it sounds, it's like a light bulb goes off in the bartender's head and she screams back, "Oh, you want a Landshark!"

Sometimes, it's easier to just hang out by the pool with my Igloo cooler.......

kw

Scooters Gone Wild

I'm not sure when it started, but it seems like every time I go into a shopping center these days, I have to dodge an out-of-control scooter. It's like the people "driving" the scooters are oblivious to any other person within a hundred yards. Just the other day, I was in a local BJ's Wholesale Club. I'm thumbing through a book near the middle of the store when an old woman crashes into the back of my leg with her scooter. It didn't really hurt but it definitely got my attention. The funny thing is, the woman looks at me and asks, "Oh, did I run into you?" Did  she really have to ask? And from the way she phrased the question, I could tell that I wasn't her first victim.

Later, in the same BJ's store, I saw a scooter that appeared to have run "out of gas". It was a strange sight to see two guys pushing the thing through the store with a large woman on board.

And about a month ago, I was in a Walmart where two guys nearly came to fisticuffs over the last remaining scooter near the store's entrance. As they got louder and louder, they naturally started to draw attention from the other Wal-Martians. Oddly enough, no one from the Walmart staff felt the need to intervene. The argument eventually ended when one guy told the other one that he could "shove the scooter up his ass". By the way, this happened to be the same Walmart where the infamous bleach fight happened.

I have also been in grocery stores where I'll turn into an aisle only to be met by two or three scooters coming straight towards me. And I can't even pass them as they block up the whole aisle. So, I have to backtrack and try to find a scooter-less path.

I don't have so much of an issue when handicapped or elderly people use the scooters. But I have a strong suspicion that many people are jumping on these things because they're just too lazy to walk. I'm sorry, but just because you're overweight doesn't automatically make you handicapped. Instead of riding that scooter down the Tastykake aisle, do yourself a favor and walk for those Krimpets. It might actually do you some good. Hell, it will probably do me some good too as they will be one less scooter to run into me!

kw

The Next In Line

So, I'm in the line at the grocery store the other day. I only have a few items, but the express line is already ten people deep. Now I have to decide whether to use the self-checkout line or wait in the "regular" line behind people with full shopping carts. My past experience with the self service lines has shown me that they always seem to be more hassle than they are worth. It never fails, whenever I scan my items, there's always at least one that doesn't scan correctly. This, of course, requires an employee to come over and override the system.

With all of this going through my head, I choose to get in the regular line. After about ten minutes of waiting, I'm finally relieved to see that I've only got one person in front of me. At this time, a new register opens and the young cashier says, "I can help the next person in line". This prompts the person at the end of the line to make a bee-line over to the new register. This happens all the time. Why can't people comprehend the difference between the next person in line and the last person in line. There is a big difference, you know...

I have to put some of the blame on the cashiers. They should specifically call over the appropriate person and not leave it up the shoppers, who too often prove to be mentally challenged. And I never know how to react to these situations. Should I cut the guy off at the pass and tell him to get his ass back at the end of the line? Or would I be "out of line" by enforcing this blatant breach of check-out etiquette? Maybe I should just let it go and continue to wait patiently like a good boy?

One thing's for certain, it's much easier to shop online than in line.....

kw

An Evening at The Fillmore

I always like to check out new live concert venues. So, when I heard The Cult, one of my favorite bands from the late 80's/early 90's era,  was doing a show at The Fillmore in Silver Spring, MD, I decided to go down and check things out.

The venue is located in the "downtown" area of Silver Spring, a suburb of Washington, DC. Driving with my brother-in-law, John and my friend, Tim we quickly found a parking lot behind the club. Surprisingly, the parking fee was only $10. We parked the car and walked around to the front entrance of the club where we noticed a time schedule of the bands. It turned out that there would be two opening acts and The Cult wasn't scheduled to take the stage until 10:15. Since we all had to work in the morning, this was a bit of a bummer.

As we entered the club, we were greeted by a security guy with tattoos all over his face and shaved head. He "wanded" us down to make sure we didn't have any metal contraband. As intimidating as he looked with the Mike Tyson-like tattoos and large electronic probe, the security guy seemed friendly enough. The wand remained quiet and we were granted access to the club.

Once inside, I felt the familiar magnetic pull towards the bar where I ordered a couple pints of draft beer and a cola for Tim who doesn't drink alcohol. When the barmaid rang me up, I was shocked to see the total at $21. I'm sorry, but if you're charging $8-9 for sixteen ounces of draft beer in a club, it should come with a complimentary lap dance. Nonetheless, it was probably a good thing because nothing controls my drinking better than a ridiculously overpriced beer.

We couldn't help but notice the total lack of bar stools in the place. In fact, on the main floor, there wasn't any place at all to sit. They served a limited menu of food items which you pretty much had to eat standing up.

We settled in to watch to the first band, not really knowing what to expect. I can't even remember the name of the band which is probably fitting. It was a bit disturbing as the lead singer pranced shirtless around the stage. It wouldn't have been so bad, but the guy resembled and anorexic Iggy Pop. I'm not sure if they were trying to be artistic, but the band, at times seemed to be producing nothing but incoherent noise. To add to the torture, when the singer wasn't screaming at the top of his lungs he felt the need to dangle his microphone in front of the stage monitors in order to produce an annoying feedback. I was really starting to worry that someone would jump onstage and beat  him over the head with it. My buddy Tim, who is a walking rock-and-roll encyclopedia, summed it up by saying, "I think that's the worst f*cking band I've ever heard."

As we tried to stop our ears from bleeding, we really started to worry about how the second band (Against Me) would sound. When they started to play, it was obvious that this band was more tight and polished. They played with high energy. If I had to describe their sound, I would say that it was a cross between the Irish punk band, The Dropkick Murphys and the All-American Rejects. Noticeably absent from their songs was the guitar solo. But they made up for it with their hard driving riffs and catchy lyric hooks. The lead singer, who seemed very comfortable on the stage, had an androgynous look. He had the deep voice and stature of a man, but the look of Molly Ringwald. I couldn't quite figure out if he was a woman or she was a man. After the band finished, I googled the band's name and found out that the singer had indeed been a man at one time, but after going through a sex change, was now a woman. Obviously, with me being a conservative-minded person, it seemed a bit strange. But who am I to judge? In a nutshell, the band was really good.

When 10:15 arrived, we looked forward to seeing the headliners. The Cult finally took the stage around 10:30 and the crowd was more than ready. The band kicked into a series of lesser-known songs, but they sounded great. The familiar tone of Billy Duffy's guitar lit the room on fire. And singer Ian Astbury might have aged a little but he still appeared to be full of piss and vinegar. His vocals were solid and he had the attitude of a bonafide rock star. Strangely, he was wearing what appeared to be a winter jacket with a bushy fur neckline which I didn't quite understand. I also noticed that he has a habit of spitting on the stage. I'm not sure what's up with that. And Tim warned me that Astbury can go on political rants at times, so I was a little nervous about what he might say that could sour the show for me. He did manage to throw out at least one anti-Republican comment, but I didn't let it bother me. I really wish all bands would leave the political statements out of their shows.

About an hour into the show, I was lucky enough to have "the dancer" take a spot on the floor right in front of me. If you don't know what I'm talking about, "the dancer" is the guy who drinks too much and then starts bobbing and weaving like he's auditioning for a Janet Jackson video. He starts to bump into me with his herky-jerky dance moves, so taking the high road, I move out of his way and over about four feet. Within 30 seconds, the guy has invaded my new space and begins to flail his arms and shoulders yet again in my direction. Thank God someone finally calls for him over at the bar and he disappears from my life forever. But I'm sure his legacy will be carried on by some other asshole at the next show.

The Cult played for almost 90 minutes finishing up with a kick-ass encore of "Love Removal Machine". Although there was a large crowd, getting out of the parking lot and onto the open road was pretty easy. Overall, aside from the insane drink prices, I thought the Fillmore was a pretty nice venue. Who knows, maybe I'll even go back someday. But probably not on a week night....

kw

The Cult on stage at The Fillmore 6/12/2012

A Golden Anniversary

(The following is the bulk of the toast that I gave to my parents at their recent 50th wedding anniversary celebration)

Fifty years is a long time. And it's a very long time for two people to be married. And it's an especially long time for two people with personalities like my parents....

For those who know my parents, you'll get a kick out of this. For those who never met them, please allow me to introduce them to you........

For the past 10-15 years, we have been getting together weekly for dinner at my parents house. It keeps us close as a family and gives us a chance to keep up on what's going on in each others lives. But dinner at the Wilson's can sometimes have it's moments.

For instance, ever since Caller-ID made it's debut at my parents house, phone calls are always an adventure. The phone will ring and my Dad will quickly head to the caller-ID box to see who's calling. The whole time he's trying to uncover the mystery caller, my Mom will be chiming in with, "Who is it, Ervin? Are You gonna answer it? That might be the call I was waiting for. Why don't you just pick it up?"

Of course, my dad, not being a man of great patience, fires back," It's says 'unknown', Linda. And I don't answer the phone is it's an unknown!"

As the phone continues to ring, my mom will remind him that she's waiting for an important phone call.

My dad, getting increasing aggravated, will say, "Damn it Linda, what part of unknown don't you understand? If I don't know who it is, I ain't answering it!"

Eventually, the answering machine will kick in and sure enough, it will turn out to be that important call that my mother was waiting for. Then, literally like clockwork, bird noises will begin to chirp out of the large collection of wall clocks my Dad has accumulated over the years. As he finally picks up the phone, he tries his best to answer it in spite of the three part harmony of cuckoo clocks in the background. My mom is relentless through the whole thing. As my dad tries to talk to the person on the other end of the line, my mom keeps hammering away by saying, "What is he saying, Ervin? Ask him about this? About him about that?"

Of course, my dad gets more and more frustrated until he finally takes the phone away from his ear and says, "Dammit Linda. I'm tryin' to talk over here!" He'll eventually hang up, seldom getting any of my mother's questions answered. This, of course, always leads to another round of bickering....

My mom might be in a wheelchair, but don't let that fool you. She can definitely hold her own. Some people might even say that she likes to be in control. Several years ago, around the holidays, she asked me to pick up a bottle of Egg Nog for her. There was one particular brand that she wanted, if I'm not mistaken it was Pennsylvania Dutch. Well anyway, after she told me several times, she insisted that I write it down on paper. So, I scribbled Pennsylvania Dutch Egg Nog on a piece of paper and headed off to the local Goldberg's liquor store. I walk into the store and just as I begin to scan the shelves, the phone at the front of the store rings. The cashier puts his hand over the receiver and yells to me, "Hey bud, is your name Ken?"

Trying to decide whether I should answer him or just crawl under one of the shelves, I finally reply, "Yep, that would be me."

He then says, "I've got your mother on the phone. She says to make sure you get her the Pennsylvania Dutch Egg Nog." Of course, as my luck would have it, the store was packed. But, in the end, mom got her special egg nog and she was happy.

I can remember another time when my mother sent my dad to the grocery store for a few things. One of the items happened to be pancake syrup. But not just any pancake syrup, it had to be Aunt Jemina. Well, after my dad gets home and starts to unload the grocery bags, my mom quickly discovers that he picked up some off-brand syrup. She lays into him about how she specifically asked for Aunt Jemina. She reminded him that she gave him a list and demanded to know why he deliberately disobeyed her request. Losing his patience, he finally said, "Linda, I ain't buy no Aunt Jemima pancake syrup!" My mother wasn't letting up and still demanded to know why. My dad finally reached his breaking point and said, "Because I didn't like the way the woman on the bottle was looking at me!" You gotta give it to him, he's original....

And another interesting thing about my dad, is that he's become Mr. Bargain Hunter when it comes to grocery shopping. He'll clip coupons out of the Sunday paper to prepare for his shopping day later in the week. Sometimes, depending on how the coupons work out, he'll stop at five different stores to get five different items. He likes to tell us about the great deals that he gets. On at least one occasion, he had so many coupons and discount points, after all his items were scanned, the store practically gave him money.

Many of you know that my dad worked as a carpenter for most of his adult life. Well, over the past couple of years he has put down his hammer and transitioned into the lawnmower king of the East Coast. He often spends his days scouring the earth looking for discarded and neglected lawn mowers that he will ultimately give a second chance at life. For anyone who's willing to listen, he will gladly tell you about his success stories. If you're really lucky, like I am sometimes, he'll start one of them up for you. I'll admit, I'm no lawnmower man, so all I hear is a loud gasoline engine. But to my dad, it's like listening to the Briggs and Stratton symphony orchestra. I'm not saying that he's obsessed with lawn mowers, but even if you happen to be talking about politics, religion or a football game, the conversation always seems to end up with my dad giving you an education on how to clean a dirty carburetor or how to sharpen a mulching blade.

And speaking of football, when my dad has a little downtime from his lawnmower empire, he likes to spend time watching his favorite football team, the Baltimore Ravens. He always gets especially excited when his favorite player, Ray Lewis makes a big play..........Of course, I'm kidding. My dad is no fan of the Ravens. A word of warning .....If you ever say, "How about those Ravens!" around him, expect to get an earful. If you really push the issue, he'll resort to his coffee can full of anti-Raven's newspaper clippings.

....................................................................................................................................

There are plenty of other funny stories, but on a serious note, my parents are both truly wonderful people. Although my mother may have been set back by Multiple Sclerosis, she never let it break her spirit. She continues to live everyday to the fullest with one of the best attitudes that I've ever seen. And even when she's in serious pain and discomfort, I have never once heard her complain. She might be limited physically, but she makes up for it with mental toughness. She's the strongest person I've ever known.

As for my dad, he can sometimes come off as being a no-nonsense, old-school tough guy, but in reality he has a heart of gold. Whether I need a helping hand or just some good advice, he's always there. He's a good man and he taught me a lot through the years.

So, with that I'd like everyone to raise their glasses and let's toast Linda and Erv. May they have another fifty years together!

kw