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13 September 2012

Sarito Carol Neiman : History, Herstory, Mystory, Mystery

The Perfect Teacher. Cartoon from susanohanian.org. Inset cartoon below by Mark Anderson / Andertoons.

Shredding the envelope:
History, herstory, mystory, mystery
I discovered I am actually very good at getting up and talking to a bunch of kids about stuff. And even, for the most part, keeping their attention as long as it’s interesting stuff.
By Sarito Carol Neiman / The Rag Blog / September 13, 2012

[In another rare appearance of her very occasional column, Shredding the Envelope, Sarito gets a firsthand look, among other things, at what all the fuss is about when teachers make a fuss about standardized testing and its use in evaluating both student and teacher “performance.”]

Wow.

Let me first of all say that I have a whole new appreciation and respect for my sisters and everybody else I’ve ever met who are / have been teachers day in, day out, for much of their grownup lives.

Actually, I had a blast.

I didn’t have much fun in the anticipation of it. Like... “why did I pick up that call when the phone rang?” And once I’d picked it up, why did I just say yes instead of making some “not now, but call me again” excuse (like call me again after I’ve had time to get used to the reality of it instead of just the idea). And like being terrified. Because it was at the middle school, on top of it. The age group I told myself was the one I could probably least well handle. Texas History and U.S. History, 7th and 8th grades respectively, which I can remember really not liking very much at all when I was in school.

But what to do, I’d already said yes! So... I did a whole Google thing, got together a bunch of really interesting quotes about “history” that we could talk about -- just in case the teacher didn’t leave a proper lesson plan. Or in case he did leave a lesson plan, but I couldn’t make any sense out of it. And marched on over there to meet my fate.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

I discovered I am actually very good at getting up and talking to a bunch of kids about stuff. And even, for the most part, keeping their attention as long as it’s interesting stuff.

I did things like write the words “History... Herstory... Mystory... Mystery” on the board. And talked about how it’s the STORY that makes history interesting, not just memorizing the dates and the places and the names. And who writes that story matters very much to whether it actually tells us very much about what is real.

And in the midst of that, the absolute thrill and rightness of this little snippet that came “out of the blue” and unprompted by me in its specifics:

Kid in class: “When did racism start, anyway?”

Me: “I dunno, I think maybe it’s been around almost forever. At least long enough that hundreds of years ago a bunch of white people went and stole people from Africa and took them back to their countries to be slaves.”

Class, in unison: “Whaaaaoah!!”

I also discovered, on the other hand, that I am not very good when it gets down to the nitty-gritty of “covering points 1-15 in the textbook.” For all kinds of reasons including all the reasons I didn’t like history very much when I was in school.

I was so touched by the kids. All of them…

The “very good, Straight-A students” who always had their hands up and always knew the textbook answers made me a little sad. Because they are trained so well in being eager to please the teacher that I was pretty sure the only thing they were learning was how to please teachers and pass tests.

The bright and inquiring ones who, before I realized that passing around fortune-cookie strips of history quotes made it impossible to get anywhere near covering points 1–15 in the textbook, chose the deepest and most challenging quotes when I asked what they really liked and wanted to share.

The kids, mostly boys, who were either so overmedicated for their ADHD, or suffering from such a horrible situation at home, they were almost catatonic and with a look of ancient suffering in their eyes.

The ones struggling with just the basics of reading comprehension, never mind getting a grasp on what “history” might mean in their lives and why it might be interesting to study it.

The grumpy ones who probably should be spending most of their days in art and music and writing classes.

The loud and boisterous ones who should be spending most of their days out running around in nature, digging in the dirt, catching frogs and snakes, and playing in the water.

The rare gift of seeing one of those “borderline” kids suddenly light up, say “aha, yes! and you know what THAT makes me think of is...”

And my immediate concern that too much of this can’t be allowed, or the principal is going to show up at the door because it starts to sound, from outside, like nobody is in charge here.

Each one of those classes should have been at least three or four smaller classes. Of six or seven kids each.

I probably won’t make a very good regular substitute teacher.

But... I might find some other way I can go spend time with some of those kids and help them find what they want to learn, what they’re excited about, how to cope with the limitations of the textbooks and the need to do well on the tests.

I had a blast.

[Sarito Carol Neiman (then just “Carol”) was a founding editor of The Rag in 1966 Austin, and later edited New Left Notes, the national newspaper of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS). With then-husband Greg Calvert, Neiman co-authored one of the seminal books of the New Left era, A Disrupted History: The New Left and the New Capitalism and later compiled and edited the contemporary mystic Osho’s posthumous Autobiography of a Spiritually Incorrect Mystic. Read more articles by Sarito Carol Neiman at The Rag Blog.]

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12 April 2012

Thorne Webb Dreyer and Sarito Carol Neiman : Bon Voyage, Doctor Keister

Dr. Stephen R. Keister, 1921-2012.

Dr. Stephen R. Keister, 1921-2012:
Bon Voyage, Doctor Keister

By Thorne Webb Dreyer and Sarito Carol Neiman / The Rag Blog / April 12, 2012
It seems the cancer always wins! Tomorrow I go to the Manchester Presbyterian Lodge for final care by Great Lakes Hospice. I am beginning to hear the splash of Old Charon's oars in the waters of the Styx. It ain't all that bad with the memories of all of you fine folks to take along.” – Steve Keister, in a message to his friends and his colleagues at The Rag Blog, February 2, 2012
Dr. Stephen R. Keister left us late Friday night, April 6, 2012, after a long-running bout with prostate cancer. He died in hospice care in his longtime home, Erie, Pennsylvania, at the age of 90.

The cancer may have won but we seriously doubt that Old Charon, the ferryman of Greek mythology (who carried souls of the newly deceased into the world of the dead) succeeded in transporting Steve all the way to Hades.

Steve, ever the philosopher and the reformer, probably recruited the wizened old seaman to his own cause of universal health care and they’re out there now, organizing for a single-payer system in the Afterlife.

Steve Keister, who turned 90 last October, was a retired physician who practiced internal medicine in Erie, PA, from 1950 until 1991, specializing in rheumatology; he was the region’s first practicing rheumatologist.

He attended Duke University where he became interested in the writings and philosophy of Moses ben Miamon, Voltaire, and Sir William Osler. He obtained his M.D. from the University of Maryland and did his postgraduate training at the Mercy Hospital in Pittsburgh and Hamot Medical Center in Erie.

His medical honors were many and after retirement he remained active in scholarship and volunteer work. And Steve found a second passion late in life, dedicating himself to progressive social change, and especially to the cause of universal health care, working with Physicians for a National Health Plan and other activist groups, and writing about health care reform for The Rag Blog.

According to his daughter, Cindy Hepfer, "Steve has always been a voracious reader, continued to play tennis until his 60s when he took up golf instead, and enjoyed having friends in in the evening for drinks and conversation."

And, “after retirement,” Cindy said, “Steve continued his family’s tradition of trying to preserve the tenets of the nation’s Founding Fathers by active membership in People for the American Way, Americans United for the Separation of Church and State, and Amnesty International.”

In a eulogy, Steve's friend Don Swift said that Keister was not only a "gentleman scholar," but that he was also "a mensch, a person of integrity and honor," and that he was "all about trying to heal a broken world."

Fellow Pennsylvania activist and writer Carl Davidson said, “We knew him well here in Western Pennsylvania, especially as an unwavering voice for Medicare for All, and then some. He supported PDA's [Progressive Democrats of America’s] efforts here, but his own views were with the socialist left. Raise a fist and a red rose for him this May Day. He will be missed.”

About her father’s involvement with The Rag Blog, Cindy Hepfer said, “You have certainly given him a mission in these latter years of his life! I thank you for giving Dad a creative outlet and a way to share his goodness and intelligence with others.”

Keister's heavily-researched opinion pieces published by The Rag Blog were rich with personal reference and backed up with facts, figures, and links. They were erudite, yet peppered with wonderful colloquialisms reminiscent of an earlier era, and always filled with quotes and observations from great thinkers, scientists, and philosophers ranging from Rabelais, Pliny the Younger, and Confucius, to Aldous Huxley, Sir William Osler, John Ruskin, and Will Rogers.

And, if you read a column by Dr. Stephen R. Keister, you never had any doubt about where the author stood on the subject.

Though always full of hope personally, Steve became increasingly disillusioned with the medical system in this country and the growing dominance of the pharmaceutical and health insurance companies.

In his writing, he often reflected on the lessons of a lifetime in medicine.

“I entered the practice of medicine in 1950, an idealist, believing in the lesson of the Good Samaritan,” he wrote. “I believed that all persons should be provided with medical care…”

But, “Somewhere in the 1980s medical care, with great planning and premeditation, was usurped by the health insurance cartel in collusion with the pharmaceutical industry. Medicine was changed from a proud profession to a business, and the physician degraded to a ‘health care provider.'"

In his final column for The Rag Blog, entitled “I Cry for My Country,” Dr. Keister wrote:
Having passed the age of 90 I wish that my final days could be days of happiness and good wishes for those about me; however, it appears that fate has ordained otherwise. It would be a great course of satisfaction to see an enlightened, progressive United States as a homeland for my grandchildren. Instead we find a nation that is descending into quasi-feudalism and subservience of the many to the few.
At the time Steve submitted his final column, we at The Rag Blog were aware of his worsening physical condition. We included the following introduction to his piece:
Our dear friend, Dr. Stephen R. Keister, turned 90 on Sunday, October 9. For the last three years Steve has written -- with a unique and singular voice -- dozens of columns about the sad state of our health care system. And in that time he has become the heart and soul of The Rag Blog. He claims this is his last column, but we promise not to hold him to that commitment! We hope he will continue to share his wisdom with us for many months to come.
But we knew it wasn’t likely.


Steve Keister approached death much as he handled life, with vigor, intellectual curiosity, and an open mind. According to his daughter, “He was analyzing the dying process for as long as he could and communicating his thoughts to those around him.”

“He had observed repeatedly to several of us that he was not afraid… and that he always liked to sleep.” Cindy said. "I told him how brave I thought he was and that he shouldn't be afraid to reach out for the sleep that he wasn't afraid of.”

We communicated with Steve during his final weeks and he shared his feelings and observations about the process of dying.


Saying goodbye
"Death is someone you see very clearly with eyes in the center of your heart: eyes that see not by reacting to light, but by reacting to a kind of a chill from within the marrow of your own life." -- Thomas Merton

"The greatest challenge of the day is: how to bring about a revolution of the heart, a revolution which has to start with each one of us?" -- Dorothea Day
How do you say goodbye to a friend? We mean really goodbye -- not “so long, see you later.” Saying goodbye, really, is an opportunity one doesn’t have often or early in life.

When we are young and a friend dies it is usually sudden, unexpected. One day the person is here, the next day that person is gone. And even when we know that death is coming, our culture as a whole does not tend to support the ceremony of saying our goodbyes while that person is still alive. Instead we are supported to remain in denial -- “you can beat this thing, I know you can!”

We are encouraged in so many ways, subtle and not so subtle, to save our goodbyes for when it’s too late for the person who’s leaving to hear them. And by the time we are old enough to see (if we dare to look) the glimmer of our own departure on the horizon, we have no practice in saying goodbye, either as one who is leaving or as one who will remain.

Stephen Keister was a friend. His contributions to The Rag Blog over the past three years have been rooted in a rich lifetime of experience as a physician and proud “secular humanist” and, as such, his insights have been invaluable as we have collectively wrestled with all the implications of the crisis in health care that has plagued the United States now for decades.

His passion for his subject was not abstract or ideological; it was his very life. In his first Rag Blog column, published on Nov. 17, 2008, Dr. Keister was clear where he stood on the question of healthcare reform:
To take the burden off future generations this country must get in step with Western Europe in quality and extent of health care for all. According to the Commonwealth Fund our health care rates 26th in the world and as of Nov. 13 [2008] … U.S. patients, compared to seven other countries, suffer the highest number of medical errors. 44% of chronically ill patients did not get recommended care, fill a prescription, or see a doctor when sick because of costs. 41% of U.S. patients spent more than $1000 in the past year on out of pocket costs, compared to 4% in Britain or 8% in the Netherlands.

We must make sure our elected representatives are not taking baksheesh from the pharmaceutical and insurance industries and support single payer, universal health care devoid of insurance company participation. The nation and your family depend on you not sitting idly on your butt. Call, E-mail, demonstrate!
We lost that battle, obviously. But the war is not yet over, as the sad compromise that became “Obamacare” now finds itself in the Supreme Court. Steve Keister did not live to see the outcome of the current scuffle. But it’s clear, no matter what the outcome, there is still no cause for sitting idly by.


When we heard that it was time to say goodbye to our friend Stephen Keister, we wanted to find a way to honor the occasion. Not to respond with denial, nor to save all our tributes till after he was gone.

So we did what anybody might do if they just found out that a wise and beautiful friend was about to leave for good. We sent him a list of questions, hoping it would offer the opportunity to share what is happening with him now. True to form, he responded both as a scientist and as a humanitarian, the rare combination that has made it such an honor and privilege to publish him over the years.

Here is his response, in his own words. In a sense, this is Steve Keister’s final column. We would like to thank writer and educator -- and Steve's close friend -- Don Swift, for facilitating our final communication with Steve Keister.
Recently I’ve received a request from Thorne Dreyer and his many friends at The Rag Blog, to give him some insight into the situation in which I am involved -- that is, terminal cancer of the prostate, under the care of the good people at the local hospice organization.

Initially, I think we’d better discuss what hospice exactly covers. In my last article in The Rag Blog, entitled “I Cry for My Country,” I refer to several instances of hospices run purely for the financial benefit of the folks in charge. In other words, once again we are faced with the terrible American attitude of money above all else. Therefore, I would suggest that anybody who is interested in legitimate hospice care get a copy of the pamphlet entitled, “When Death Is Near: A Caregiver’s Guide.”

Hospice in the United States is a reasonably new organization, and the hospice in Erie was one of those founded on the basis of charitable giving. Some 25 years ago, Dr. David Dunn, a very capable general surgeon who had spent time in Great Britain during the war, became interested in the hospice movement and spent several months studying the technique as utilized in the U.K. Subsequently he came back to the United States and established a purely volunteer movement, which was soon overburdened, and ultimately taken over by his son, Dr. Geoffrey Dunn at the Great Lakes Hospice, where it remains today.

I became involved in this personally, having been diagnosed with carcinoma of the prostate some 12 years ago. This was treated initially by irradiation and subsequently hormone therapy. Approximately mid-2011, bone scans showed spread of the cancer to the various bones of my body. I tended to ignore this, which was possibly a mistake on my part, because of several factors. At the age of 90 I was enjoying the company of both the Edinboro University retired faculty group, and an 89-year-old lady, who was the best of companions, on the 8th floor of my building.

The question arises, why did I resort to hospice care?

I was not fully aware of the signs of the deteriorating effects of metastatic cancer. I was aware of the fact that we develop painful areas in the bones, but I completely ignored the systemic symptoms of the disease, which are: 1) increased fatigue; one will sleep up to 18 hours a night; 2) complete loss of appetite; one desires nothing, even a glass of milk, for a meal; 3) desire for solitude and lack of interest in things of everyday origin.

These taken together mean something to an alert physician and, happily, Dr. Jeffrey Dunn of hospice stopped by one evening to discuss books, and I discussed my symptoms with him. He said, “Gee, Steve, you’re a candidate for hospice care -- your cancer is spreading.” So the next day I was a hospice patient, and have never regretted it to this day.

Hospice nationally will provide 90 days of care under Medicare. They do not provide inpatient care in a convalescent or nursing home, but otherwise, medicine, equipment, medical care, etc., is provided by the program. I currently am in the Presbyterian Lodge in Erie, and everything is going according to program. I realize I have not long to live, but realize too that I have much to be thankful for throughout my 90 years.

I am also asked how I have rationalized the facing of death, and the question mentions that Socrates, the Zen masters, Jesus, Buddha have all offered alternatives. However, I have somehow avoided these alternatives and looked at this as a purely biological process. We are born in pain, we live largely in pain, and hopefully we can avoid dying in pain.

I’ve been assured by several of the hospice workers that the easiest people to care for are those that are the “secular humanists” who approach each stage of life as a natural event and do not interfere or complicate matters with various philosophical pictures.

While is it true that good hospice care professionals, if possible, provide a role of helping family and friends come to terms with the impending loss of a loved one, some of us are beyond that stage. At the age of 90 we have few living relatives and depend entirely on friends. Happily, I have been blessed with many, many friends in my recent lifetime -- perhaps more so than earlier in my life.

The final question in the submitted list is very interesting and very apropos to the present time. It is: If you could make a new Hippocratic Oath for the 21st century to be given to every student graduating from medical school, what would it be?

This I have given much thought, and do not feel intellectually qualified to answer this at the present time. But I do feel that certain factors should enter into the situation. I do think the philosophy of Dorothea Day and Thomas Merton should play a big part, and within their thinking, we who allegedly feel we are Christians should remember the Sermon on the Mount and the Beatitudes.

In addition to that, from the ethical standpoint we should remember the teachings of two physicians of the last century: Sir William Osler and Dr. W.W.G Maclaclhan of Pittsburgh, both of whom treated people of prominence, the well-known, but at the same time never turned their backs on the poor, the underprivileged or the disabled.

I once again wish to thank my friends in Austin, Texas, my friends in my retired professors' group in Edinboro University, my children, including my daughter Cindy and son-in-law Will (both librarians), and my grandson Jonathan and his wife Alice (both modern musicians with a technique I do not understand but in which apparently they are doing great work). And finally, my dear friend on the eighth floor at 1324 South Shore Drive.

Peace. Peace to all. Thank you.
More of Stephen Keister’s last words can be found in his last columns for the Rag Blog. His final column ended with a challenge for us all to carry on the work of birthing a better world:
I cry for my country, and while asleep I hear in my dreams the mass gatherings of my youth singing, "Arise ye prisoners of starvation, arise thee wretched of the earth, for justice thunders condemnation, a better world's in birth."
Bon voyage, Doctor Keister. You will be missed.

[Thorne Dreyer edits The Rag Blog, hosts Rag Radio, and is a director of the New Journalism Project. He lives in Austin. Sarito Carol Neiman is a freelance editor, author, and actress who lives in Junction, Texas. Together they edited Austin's Sixties underground newspaper, The Rag.]

Find articles by Dr. Stephen R. Keister on The Rag Blog.

Images courtesy of Cindy Hepfer.

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04 November 2011

Dr. Stephen R. Keister : I Cry for my Country


I cry for my country:
The state of health care in America

"Laissez-faire, supply-and-demand, -- one begins to be weary of all of that. Leave all to egotism, to ravenous greed of money, of pleasure, of applause; -- it is the gospel of despair." -- Thomas Carlyle, 1843.
By Dr. Stephen R. Keister / The Rag Blog / November 4, 2011

[Happy Birthday Steve Keister!!!

Our dear friend, Dr. Stephen R. Keister, turned 90 on Sunday, October 9. For the last three years Steve has written -- with a unique and singular voice -- dozens of columns about the sad state of our health care system. And in that time he has become the heart and soul of
The Rag Blog. He claims this is his last column, but we promise not to hold him to that commitment! We hope he will continue to share his wisdom with us for many months to come.

In the meantime, look for Sarito Carol Neiman's
Rag Blog feature article on the life and times of Dr. Stephen R. Keister. Coming soon to a Rag Blog near you!

-- Thorne Dreyer, for everyone at
The Rag Blog.]

Having passed the age of 90 I wish that my final days could be days of happiness and good wishes for those about me; however, it appears that fate has ordained otherwise. It would be a great course of satisfaction to see an enlightened, progressive United States as a homeland for my grandchildren. Instead we find a nation that is descending into quasi-feudalism and subservience of the many to the few.

With that in mind, I approach my final column for The Rag Blog with a few observations about medical care in the United States.

Rarely do I watch television as I find it stultifying, by and large, save for a few generally open and informative presentations on MSNBC. I did, however, watch on ABC news report about a day of free medical care at the Los Angeles Coliseum where hundreds of the poor, underprivileged, uninsured stood in line -- many of them all night -- to gain admission to a day of free care provided by volunteers from the L.A. area.

This is my country! This is the nation that spends twice what any other civilized nation spends per capita on health care! This is what the corporate leaders and their political prostitutes have to offer for the coming years! This is what the Republican presidential candidates condone and would promote for the future health care of our country, and for which the current administration has crafted, for political purposes, a faux health care bill, dictated by the insurance consortium and the pharmaceutical industry.

We, in the United States, have the ultimate in health care rationing -- and it's rationing based on one's ability to pay.

Nation of Change featured an article by Noam Levey titled, "U.S. Health Care Falls Further behind Peers, Report Finds." The article, notes that "The U.S. health care system is lagging further and further behind other industrialized countries on major measures of quality, efficiency, and access to care, according to a new report from the nonprofit Commonwealth Fund, a leading health policy foundation." The report in full is available here.

In its fall newsletter, Physicians for a National Health Policy (PNHP) reveals many more facts that surprised me and may surprise you. For instance:
  • 60.3 million Americans (19.8%) were uninsured for at least part of 2010, up from 58.5 million people in 2009, according to the National Center for Health Statistics. 48.6 million Americans (16 %) were uninsured at the time of the interview for the 2010 survey, up from 46.3 million people in 2009, with the majority, 35.7 million Americans (11.7% of all Americans), uninsured for more than one year, up from 32.8 million people the previous year, according to an analysis of data from the National Health Interview Survey.

  • Nine million working-age Americans -- 57% of people who had health insurance through a job that was lost -- became uninsured between 2008 and 2010, according to a survey by the Commonwealth Fund.

  • Health care premiums will rise 8.5% in 2010, according to a PricewatterhouseCoopers survey of 1,700 firms. Employers are offering workers more meager plans in response to rising costs; 17 % of employers surveyed most commonly offered high-deductible health plans to their workers this year, up from 13% in 2010 (Merrill Goozner, The Fiscal Times, 5/18/11).

  • The total cost of a health care plan for a family of four covered by a VA Preferred Provider Plan (PPO) in 2011 is estimated to be $19, 393, up 7.3% from 2010, according to Milliman Medical Index. Employer contributions account for 59%, $11,385, of the total, while employees pay 41% of the cost, $8,008. Employees will pay an average of $3,280 in out of pocket costs. (The Milliman Medical Index ).

  • U.S.Physicians spend nearly four times more on billing and related overhead each year ($82,975 vs $22,205) per physician than their Canadian counterparts, with U.S. medical practice staff spending over 20.6 hours per week on bureaucratic tasks, compared to just 2.5 hours per physician week under Canada/s single-payer program (Morra et al., "U.S.physicians practices vs Canadians," Health Affairs, 8/11.)

  • The nation's five largest for-profit health insurers netted $11.7 billion in profits for 2010, up 51% from 2008, because medical costs grew more slowly than forecast, as insured patients skimped on medical care to avoid costly co-pays and deductables during the severe recession. UnitedHealthcare was the leader in profitability, taking in over $4.6 billion in profits, followed by WellPoint ($2.9 billion) and Aetna ($1.8 billion).

  • CEOs at the nation's five largest for-profit insurance companies garnered $55.4 million in compensation in 2010. The top paid was Cigna's David Cordani ($15.2 million), followed by WellPoint's Angela Braly ($13.5 million), United Healthcare's Stephen Hemsley ($10.8 million), Aetna's Mark Bertolini ($8.8 million), and Humana's Michael McAllister ($6.1 million). (Executive Pay-Watch, AFL-CIO, 2011).

  • The pharmaceutical industry spent $6.1 billion in 2010 to influence American doctors, and another $4 billion on direct to consumer advertising, according to IMS Health.
And then there's hospice care:
  • For-profit hospices are expanding rapidly and may be cherry-picking the most profitable patients, according to a recent study. The number of for-profit hospices increased from 725 in 2000 to 1,600 in 2007, while the number of nonprofit hospices remained stable at 1,205 in 2007. Overall, 52% of facilities are for profit, 35% are non-profit, and 13% are government owned.

  • Hospice care is funded by Medicare on a per-diem basis, with a fixed rate ($143 in 2010) paid to providers for each day a patient is in a facility. Because the first and last days of care are more expensive, to provide, longer care generates higher profit. The study found that patients in for-profit facilities averaged a 20-day stay, compared to 16 days in nonprofit centers. (Your author has a question. In view of the fact that hospice care is designed to provide compassionate, painless death with dignity, what is the method of four days longer survival in the for-profit hospice?)

  • Hospice care costs for nursing home patients jumped nearly 70% between 2005 and 2009, from $2.5 billion to $4.3 billion, while the number of hospice patients increased by only 40%, according to the Office of the Inspector General. Hospices with a large share of patients in nursing homes were typically for profit and appeared to seek out patients with certain characteristics associated with life expectancy and lower demand for care. The Medicare program paid for-profit hospices more for patients than it paid non-profit and government owned hospices in 2009. For profit hospices received about $12, 600 per patient while nonprofit and government entities received between $8,200 and $9,800 per beneficiary.
One bit of light is the California Medical Association's resolution to legalize marijuana. A tiny bit of encouragement, but a very long way to go.

This old geezer can find nothing to relieve my depression regarding the future of health care in our fair country. The moral decay, the worship of wealth, and the lack of Christian charity appear to create a situation that worsens by the day.

I find no hope within either political party as both are whores to the corporate interests that dominate our society. The sole voices of hope that appear to reach the public in general come from the "99%" movement and Dylan Ratigan's campaign for a constitutional amendment to do away with money in politics.

Unlike in Europe, where the populace has a basic understanding of the existing domestic situation, the average American appears to be entirely moved by nothing but the sloganeering of the political Right.

I cry for my country, and while asleep I hear in my dreams the mass gatherings of my youth singing, "Arise ye prisoners of starvation, arise thee wretched of the earth, for justice thunders condemnation, a better world's in birth."

[Dr. Stephen R. Keister lives in Erie, Pennsylvania. He is a retired physician who is active in health care reform and is a regular contributor to The Rag Blog. Read more articles by Dr. Stephen R. Keister on The Rag Blog]

Graphic from The New York Times.
CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE

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22 September 2011

Sarito Carol Neiman : The Anti-Angels of Health Care

Cartoon from The New Yorker.

Shredding the envelope:
Healthcare on the ground - Part III:
The anti-angel forces
By Sarito Carol Neiman / The Rag Blog / September 22, 2011

[Shredding the Envelope ("Ruminations on news, taboos, and space beyond time") is Sarito Carol Neiman's (occasionally) regular column for The Rag Blog. This is the third in a series. Read Part I here.]

The computer workstation in my dad’s room, according to the sales pitches of companies who sell them, was designed with the best of intentions to improve both the efficiency and quality of care in hospitals.

It would allow Dad’s caretakers to enter the latest information about his care (vital signs taken, medications given, observations observed) and to retrieve any information about him and his condition they might need -- on the spot, without having to go and fetch it from (or take it to) its central location at the nursing station down the hall.

It would allow them (in theory) to spend a little extra time in the rooms with the patients, as they entered or retrieved their information -- assuming they could safely mix “quality time” with the patient and the entry/retrieval of complex data at the same time. (An assumption of multitasking ability whose superhuman dimensions the sales pitches overlook.)

In theory, this computer workstation could be part of a vast network of computers, consolidating input gathered from every healthcare professional who had ever seen my dad for any reason. It could offer a more comprehensive picture of Dad’s medical history and current condition than any single human could possibly manage.

Imagine the possibilities... if such a network had been in place from the beginning of this years-long saga, and if all the professionals involved in Dad’s care had been doing more than just their jobs, he very likely would never have ended up in the hospital in the first place.

Those are some pretty hefty “ifs.” And as good a starting point as any to take a look at the “anti-angel forces” at work in the U.S. healthcare system.

Let’s take care of the big stuff first. Let’s assume that our “inalienable rights” to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness include the right to healthcare -- not as a consequence of having the money to pay the going market rates for it, but as a consequence of being human. Let’s assume, in other words, that there is no need for private insurance companies, hence no fear that a person’s medical history will be used to deny coverage, or to charge an arm and a leg for it.

Let’s further assume that we can agree that being a healthcare provider is a very special calling indeed, and that those who take up the calling should be honored and rewarded for making that choice, rather than being thrust into indentured servitude by a mountain of postgraduate debt, forced to pay for that debt by performing procedures rather than spending time with and understanding their patients, and being stalked by “ambulance-chasing” lawyers whose primary motive is to make a buck on their mistakes and on the suffering of the victims of those mistakes.

(More about the whole “tort reform”/malpractice thing at another time.)

So now we’ve taken care of the big stuff, we get to the sticky, non-systemic, human bits.

Of course, a universal “inalienable right” to healthcare would need us all -- hospital administrators, doctors, nurses, aides, and patients, all of us -- to behave sensibly, like grown-ups.

We would understand that sometimes things get broken and can’t be fixed, and not every mistake is the result of malice or incompetence. We would know the futility, even harmfulness, of squandering scarce resources on experimental fixes that are likely to fail, or only extend suffering rather than heal. We would understand that death is a natural and inevitable part of the continuum of life.

We would do our very best to keep ourselves healthy and, when those efforts fail, do our best to comprehend the reasons and take responsibility for whatever part we might play in getting better. We would know when to push on against all odds, and when to call it quits. We would celebrate every small victory, and we would know when to allow ourselves to grieve.

We would, in other words, be able to see every health crisis for the opportunity it brings -- to take stock of our priorities, to allow ourselves to love and be loved, to heal the old and untended wounds that so often seem to surface at these times.

To help us get from here to there, though (it’s unlikely we’re just going to wake up and find ourselves there), we’d have to start with a clear-eyed look at what we’ve got now.

The computer workstation in my dad’s room, attached conveniently out of the way on the wall, was a neutral presence, at first glance. And, as advertised, it was undoubtedly a time-saving, mistake-reducing tool. It wasn’t until it broke down for a few days that I began to understand how it was also being used by “anti-angel” forces.

As long as this tool was functioning, nurses came and went with their tasks-to-perform and medications-to-give on what was apparently a rigid, inflexible schedule. It didn’t matter whether Dad was eating his breakfast, having a phone conversation with a loved one, or peacefully asleep -- the pills had to be given, the BP cuff strapped on, the thermometer inserted. Toward the end of his stay, when he was better able to move around, he discovered that the only way to assert his right to uninterrupted peace and quiet was to go and sit on the toilet.

When the computer workstation tool stopped functioning (and I confess to an irrational fear that I might be blowing the cover of a complex angel-conspiracy) somehow it became fine to let Dad finish his breakfast, or his phone call. To come back a few minutes later to do whatever was on the nursing agenda to be done. Not a problem, said the gracious smiles and body language of the nurses carrying the pills and thermometers. I’ll come back in a little while when you’re done.

And they didn’t forget, either -- it wasn’t as though these important tasks magically disappeared from the “do-list” just for lack of computer assistance.

That’s when it occurred to me that behind the hunched shoulders and grim determination of nursing “business as usual” was a Big Brother element that the nurses were fully aware of, but the workstation sales pitches don’t mention. A function more interesting to hospital administrators and lawyers, say, than to doctors or other actual hands-on providers of Dad’s care.

It works like this: the nurse turns on the computer and scans in her badge (nurse presence accounted for) at a certain time (schedule adhered to and trackable by the minute) followed by scans of medication labels, or keystroke entries of vital signs (asses covered). Checked off the list, tidy and impersonal, easily scanned by those whose interest is that no unpredictable breezes of individual human needs or circumstance should interfere with the hum of the well-oiled (and litigation-protected) hospital machine.

The doctors didn’t have to use this workstation, however. They could, if they wanted to look something up... but they didn’t have to, nor did they have to tell it whatever it was they did while they were there.

My sense was that the whole workstation set-up not only reflects but also reinforces the subordinate and purely functional role of nurses in the system as it is. In most hospitals -- with a few notable exceptions, I have heard -- nurses are told what to do (“doctor’s orders”), expected to pass along requests or problems from the patients, and rarely if ever encouraged (or even allowed) to express an opinion, make a recommendation, or question a decision by the doctor that their best intelligence tells them might not be a good idea. A bit silly, to put a better face on it than it deserves -- given that the nurses spend far more time with patients on an hour-by-hour basis than any doctor can possibly afford to spend.

It also, of course, reflects the fact that as the system is set up now, the actions of doctors and the reasons behind those actions are largely protected from public view, and are not required to be shared with other members of the team unless the doctor chooses to share them.

Doctors.

When I first met Dad’s surgeon, I didn’t like him much. Not because I thought he was incompetent -- on the contrary, I was satisfied that he was the best available anywhere near Dad’s home. My dislike was more in the realm of “bedside manner.”

I can’t really blame him for the fact that at our first meeting he was uninterested in knowing who I was or why I was there, to the point of being dismissive. He had, after all, already met and spoken with several members of the family along the way, and at that point I must have seemed like yet another potential burden of irrelevant and time-consuming human interaction that he would just as soon avoid.

Plus, he’s a surgeon after all, not a GP -- the skill sets required to do an excellent job in those two realms are different. Even if the skills to do more than the job might overlap or even be the same.

Over subsequent meetings our relationship was rocky, with additions of ego-prickliness alongside any deficits in bedside-manner skills. He didn’t like being questioned, especially in front of his entourage. This dislike, it seemed to me, carried the weight of a reflexive assumption that my questions were posed as a challenge, rather than as a sincere effort to understand.

I did my best to accommodate the lesser angels of his nature, to reassure him that I absolutely trusted his medical expertise, while still honoring my own concerns for the rocky spots in Dad’s recovery and whatever support I might be able to lend as a “person on the ground.” In the end, I didn’t want him to change, really -- I thought he could use a good “right-hand” person, more a GP type, whom he trusted and who trusted him, to take care of the squishy bits of listening patiently and explaining things to people like me, and maybe translating my concerns into a language he could better understand and relate to.

We worked it out, somehow -- the mutual respect and understanding between him and Dad was undisturbed, and when he finally came in with the happy news that Dad could leave the hospital and go on to the next stage of getting strong enough to go home, I was as fully included in the sharing of that news as was appropriate, given who was most directly affected.

I was also delighted to hear that during Dad’s recent follow-up visit, the doctor showed him “before and after” X-rays of his lung, and the transformation that had taken place. The news nicely balanced what happened that day when Dad was having such a hard time, convinced he wasn’t getting any better and grumbling about having to go downstairs for a new X-ray every morning.

When the doctor came by, I suggested maybe Dad could see a before-and-after picture, so he could look for himself how things were going. The response was a little explosion of exasperated breath, an energetic (if not physical) throwing up of the hands, and a “that’s not so easy, it’s all on computer” before turning around and (energetically) stomping out the door.

I liked it when I heard the news that the doctor had managed that “show and tell” … because I know it helped Dad, as it would have helped him on that day I suggested it in the hospital, to get a handle on whether the whole ordeal had really been worth it. Maybe, I thought, just maybe he had heard me after all. Maybe he’ll remember it the next time one of his patients is having a hard time convincing himself it’s all worth it.

We all have a lot of work to do if we are going to meet the challenges of providing thoughtful, competent, whole-person healthcare in this world.

We’ll have to figure out the best ways to weed out those who are thoughtless and incompetent and in jobs they aren’t suited for. And we’ll have to work on minimizing the harm done by our natural human tendencies to want magic pills, and to substitute a messy and mysterious wholeness with discrete and manageable, but lifeless, parts.

We’ll need to figure out how to shift our focus from avoiding the worst to striving for the best.

We’ll have to take a deep look at the role of lawyers in the healthcare system, and the hopeless, despairing greediness they so often foster in our lives. We’ll need to acknowledge that no amount of money can alleviate pain and suffering, and that often, all any of us really wants is a heartfelt apology, shared grief, and support for moving through a loss. And yes, too, sometimes, the satisfaction of knowing that an incompetent, greedy, or careless practitioner will never be able to harm anyone again.

It’s a lot of work, and it needs us all to do more than just our jobs. And at the moment, for me, it’s right up there among the top jobs on the list of those most important and meaningful.

[Sarito Carol Neiman (then just “Carol”) was a founding editor of The Rag in 1966 Austin, and later edited New Left Notes, the national newspaper of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS). With then-husband Greg Calvert, Neiman co-authored one of the seminal books of the New Left era, A Disrupted History: The New Left and the New Capitalism and later compiled and edited the contemporary Buddhist mystic Osho’s posthumous Authobiography of a Spiritually Incorrect Mystic. Neiman, also an actress and stage director, currently lives in Junction, Texas. Read more articles by Sarito Carol Neiman on The Rag Blog]The Rag Blog

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07 September 2011

Sarito Carol Neiman : Healthcare on the Ground II: The Angels

Nurse as guardian angel? Art by Amy Jordan / folkartblondes's photostream / Flickr.

Shredding the envelope:
Healthcare on the ground – Part II
The angels are the ones who are doing more than just their jobs.
By Sarito Carol Neiman / The Rag Blog / September 7, 2011

[Shredding the Envelope ("Ruminations on news, taboos, and space beyond time") is Sarito Carol Neiman's (occasionally) regular column for The Rag Blog. This is the second in a series. Read Part I here.]

My brother called them “angels” in his email dispatches from the surgery waiting room. By this, I know now that he meant the ones who look you in the eye, who respond to your questions directly and without evasion. Without hollow boilerplate responses, meant to reassure those anxiously awaiting some news or a verdict that nobody yet has.

The angels are the ones who are doing more than just their jobs.

Being a guy, and more specifically a guy who loves understanding the workings of things, my brother was also impressed by the airport-like, huge computer display on the wall of the waiting room that showed which operating room was occupied by which surgeon, how much longer it was expected to be in use… it functioned as a reassurance in itself, like the clock displays on the crosstown Manhattan L line that tell you how many minutes away a train is from where you’re standing.

He and my sister… and whoever else might have been there from the family (who will no doubt forgive me for not remembering just now)... could watch, as the slot representing Dad kept getting extended. From the initial four to a total of seven hours, by the time it was all said and done.

Scott & White has a reputation for being one of the best in Texas. High-tech, computerized in all its dimensions, there is a mini-version of air traffic control opposite each nursing station, where selected vital signs of each patient in each room are on live display, broadcast from a little monitor each of them wears (or not, as needed, I assume) in a pocket sewn into their gowns, with its wires and sensors silently attached to their bodies and capturing heartbeat, respirations, temperature. When a nurse comes into the room, tasks completed and supplementary notes are entered via keyboard and screen attached to the wall next to the door, not on the iconic hospital “clipboard.”

All very reassuring, even laudable. But for the patients themselves, and their families, it’s the angels who count.

I have met many, so far, in the course of this journey. I’d say the majority of them have been “new”… interns, nurses in training, residents. (Maybe “the system” tends to beat angelhood out of people who are in it too long. I sense I should camouflage their names to protect their innocence.)

R, whose extraordinary sensitivity and respect toward Dad, on what had started as a really difficult day, seemed to help him tap into a new reservoir of strength within himself to turn things around by the end of the day.

B, whose eagerness to learn and clear enthusiasm for finding out what was broken and fixing it was so infectious, it earned him immediate forgivenesss for stepping on Dad’s toe the first time he approached his chair. When he came in the next day, clearly with an “assignment” to ask the patient a couple of questions, I saw B’s future as a great among angels reflected in my Dad’s honest, simple responses.

Dad is generally the sort of guy who will say “I’m fine” while bleeding to death from a gunshot wound. He’s also very perceptive. If he figures you don’t REALLY want to know, he will say, “I’m fine.”

B stood exactly in front of Dad, looked him in the eye, and said:

B: “Do you have any questions at all about your treatment that haven’t been answered?”

Dad: “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

B: [Clear, simple response to describe Dad’s condition, and the surgery he had just undergone, and why. A nod from Dad. Understood, at last, beyond whatever descriptions he had been given, and had only abstractly/theoretically comprehended, before he went under the knife.] "Is there anything else you want to know?"

Dad: "Why am I not getting better?"

To which B responded that it takes time, it had been a huge ordeal, and actually Dad was doing remarkably well under the circumstances, better even than might be expected. Other people had said the same words, but B really knew those words were true. For the first time, Dad had been told the reality as certainly as it could be known, by a person so transparently honest and sincere that he could take a deep breath and move on to crossing the next river.

There are angels among the oldtimers, as well. Notably “Ida sweet as apple cidah” as Dad introduced her to me (referencing an old song he knows), an ageless woman with a huge presence that just lights up the room when she walks in. I don’t feel the need to protect her innocence, because her face tells you she’s seen it all – and I’m pretty sure the gods of the nursing angels have her under their fiercest protection, or she wouldn’t still be around. Just as she has all “her” patients under her protection, to the extent she’s able.

Or T, who hasn’t yet seen it all but has seen a lot for someone as young as she is, and who doesn’t have such a big sunny presence as Ida but is more the silent and subtle breeze who comes and goes without creating a disturbance, and whose eye never misses the smallest detail of expression on a face indicating that something might be amiss. She catches things even before they happen, an invaluable gift.

Most angels seem to live toward the middle of the healthcare food chain – they are the nurses, or the interns and residents who haven’t yet been professionalized into wearing the straightjacket of “lawsuit aversion” so many doctors seem to have around them, like an invisible shield against genuine human contact.

On the bottom of the food chain are those who are just passing through a minimum-wage job until they can find something better. There are notable, and wonderful exceptions to the “check it off the list” insensitivity of many aides in the modern, large-hospital system. Those exceptions, in my experience of them, are very special angels indeed. Just really, really good folks who love taking care of people and their environments, and making both the person and the environment as comfortable as possible. We should pay them what they deserve, so they can keep doing that priceless work without having to take a second job to support their families.

I feel a third part to this series coming on. And that is to take a look at what are the “anti-angel” forces at work in the system. What they are made of, both on a “systemic” and a human level. It’s going to need a bit of research on the system level (nothing fancy) and maybe a bit more distance on the human level than I can manage right now.

Right now, I need to get back to my Dad’s room in the hospital, and make sure he has something to eat that he enjoys for “dinner” (in real life outside the hospital, dinner for my Dad is usually a light snack. Hospital “nutrition departments” don’t operate in that mode.) And that he’s settled in comfortably for the night.

I’ll be back.

[Sarito Carol Neiman (then just “Carol”) was a founding editor of The Rag in 1966 Austin, and later edited New Left Notes, the national newspaper of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS). With then-husband Greg Calvert, Neiman co-authored one of the seminal books of the New Left era, A Disrupted History: The New Left and the New Capitalism and later compiled and edited the contemporary Buddhist mystic Osho’s posthumous Authobiography of a Spiritually Incorrect Mystic. Neiman, also an actress and stage director, currently lives in Junction, Texas. Read more articles by Sarito Carol Neiman on The Rag Blog]The Rag Blog

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01 September 2011

Sarito Carol Neiman : Healthcare on the Ground

Image from Sky Dancing.

Shredding the envelope:
Healthcare on the ground, Part I


By Sarito Carol Neiman / The Rag Blog / September 1, 2011

[Shredding the Envelope ("Ruminations on news, taboos, and space beyond time") is Sarito Carol Neiman's (occasionally) regular column for The Rag Blog. This is the first in a series.]

I have spent the past three days doing my best to be a helpful and healing presence in Room 422 of Scott & White Hospital in Temple, Texas. My going-on-85-year-old dad is in that room, doing his best to recover from a 7-hour surgery called, in medical terms, a “decortication” of his right lung.

It was needed because at some time in the past year or few, given the best guess of his surgeon, he suffered internal bleeding as a side effect of taking Coumadin, the trade name of warfarin, which is a blood thinner for humans that started out as a hemorrhaging agent used as rat poison.

The Coumadin website features a couple of happy, healthy-looking, stock-photo human beings -- one of each gender -- on its front page. In my dad’s case, this rat poison turned wonder drug apparently contributed to the creation of a leathery and constricting pouch around his right lung that threatened to suffocate him to death.

Coumadin earned Bristol-Myers Squibb roughly $222 million in the year that I know my Dad was taking it. He might have been taking it for more years, I don’t know, but I remember that particular year because I was in Texas at the time, and saw the alarming and extensive bruising he got from a minor fall, soon followed by an alarming rectal bleeding that prompted a colonoscopy recommended (ridiculously and incompetently, in retrospect) by his GP, for which I served as driver to and fro because Dad was too freaked out altogether to properly handle it on his own. The fact that he actually asked for my help was alarming in itself, given what I knew about him and how he never, ever asks for help.

I told him at the time I thought his blood thinner was to blame. Because he’s my dad and I’m still the kid in his mind, and because he knows perfectly well I’m not a doctor, and because he, like most Americans, suffers from a combo of intimidation and awe-struckness by what passes for a medical profession in this country -- and, probably most of all, because he liked the heart doctor who prescribed that Coumadin in the first place -- he dismissed the very idea out of hand.

Long story short, after a bout of alleged pneumonia in December of last year, Dad found himself making emergency-room visits because he couldn’t breathe, which grew in frequency to around every three weeks or so, to drain a liter or two of fluid from his pleural cavity. His GP finally recommended the local small-town lung specialist, and she decided Dad might be suffering from TB.

That “might be,” under Texas law, required her to report him to the state health department, and in turn, required the state health department to initiate the “might be TB” protocol, regardless of whether any lab results were still in process or inconclusive. Dad was confined to his house, and the capital-S “state” came by in person each day in the form of a nurse to dispense and personally witness the swallowing of massive doses of antibiotics that made Dad itch and feel horrible.

A couple of weeks passed, and a new, alternative diagnosis of some exotic bird flu (suffered mostly by AIDS patients, I discovered in my research) was substituted for the TB. But for some inexplicable reason the visits by the state nurses with their sick-inducing and now-irrelevant pills continued.

At this point my brother and I intervened, working in tandem from New York and Texas, and dragged Dad off to a different, carefully researched and selected as the best in the drive-able neighborhood, “second opinion” lung specialist.

Excellent idea, difficult execution. At their first meeting, which my brother attended to keep himself in the loop of what we had initiated, the new specialist talked more to my brother than he did to his hard-of-hearing, neither well educated nor articulate but by no means incompetent or dumb patient.

As a consequence, Dad felt infantilized and disrespected. He rebelled, and told us to butt out, he would henceforth handle his health concerns on his own. We complied, what to do, he’s the dad.

Image from Why Evolution is True.

Another couple of months (along with another couple of emergency fluid-draining procedures) passed before Dad finally accepted the second-opinion specialist’s recommendation, based on scans showing a massive “black area” on the right lung, to have a deeper evaluation of the underlying problem at Scott & White Hospital in Temple, Texas.

This part of the story in itself was a massively revealing look into the practical, on-the-ground, failings of the American “free market-based” healthcare system. I will have to leave it to others with a more intimate knowledge of the workings of that system, and the details of its economic interests and corruptions, to provide any fact-based insight into the underpinnings of it, or how the recently passed “Obamacare” might actually address any of those failings -- or not.

What I do know from experience is that the way things are set up now, my father -- before my brother and I intervened -- had seen three different doctors over the past several years. A cardiologist, a general practitioner, and the local lung specialist recommended by the general practitioner when he started drowning in his own fluids.

There was never any actual collaboration among the three. Perhaps they had a vague awareness of each other’s existence, a kickback arrangement, or simply a star next to a name in the rolodex. There was apparently no requirement, or even commonsense expectation that they might consult with one another and, based on their common experience of the same human being and his health issues, work together toward a diagnosis of a current health crisis experienced by that human being and decide on a course of treatment.

Apparently, in the case of the local lung specialist (at least in Texas) there was not even a requirement that when a patient asks that his/her records be provided to another doctor, as part of obtaining a second opinion, those records must be provided. Because when the woman who diagnosed Dad first with TB, and then with an exotic bird flu, was asked for those records, she refused to hand them over.

Dad had to undergo a repetitive, unnecessary, and not altogether un-harmful extra round of tests and scans and nuclear exposures in order to replicate what she had already done.

My hunch is that there is plenty that could be done (at the very least, putting aside the overall problems of non-socialized medicine for now) to reform Medicare and free it from its current entrapments in inappropriate, costly, exploitive, and profit-motivated ways of doing business that reward doctors for procedures and tests performed, versus rewarding them for helping people get healthy and stay that way.

But, in keeping with the “Shredding the Envelope” premise, I also have a hunch that we have to tackle the softer and more human dimension first and foremost, before we can deal effectively with the hardware.

That’s the subject of Part II of this post.

I’ll be back.

[Sarito Carol Neiman (then just “Carol”) was a founding editor of The Rag in 1966 Austin, and later edited New Left Notes, the national newspaper of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS). With then-husband Greg Calvert, Neiman co-authored one of the seminal books of the New Left era, A Disrupted History: The New Left and the New Capitalism and later compiled and edited the contemporary Buddhist mystic Osho’s posthumous Authobiography of a Spiritually Incorrect Mystic. Neiman, also an actress and stage director, currently lives in Junction, Texas. Read more articles by Sarito Carol Neiman on The Rag Blog]The Rag Blog

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28 August 2011

Michael Winship : Rick Perry's Texas Tall Tales

Pecos Perry? Art from vintage childrens book via saltycotton / Flickr.

'Emperor in a fig leaf':
Rick Perry's tall tales of Texas


By Michael Winship / Truthout / August 28, 2011

Although born and raised in a small town in the Finger Lakes region of New York, I'm the hybrid child of an upstate New York father and a mother from Texas -- they met at Fort Hood (then Camp Hood) during World War II. And you thought different species couldn't mate.

As a result, we were the only kids on the block who said, "Y'all," or had relatives named Bubba, Vade, Hoyt, and Cleburne.

My mother's father was known in our family as Granddaddy Lloyd. CARE packages of unshelled pecans and Frito-Lay products (then largely unknown above the Mason-Dixon Line) would arrive at Christmastime. And among the books in our house was a buff-covered, dog-eared paperback titled Tall Tales of Texas.

I flipped through it over and over. Inside were wild and woolly stories of the outlaw Sam Bass, frontiersman and Texas Ranger Bigfoot Wallace, Davy Crockett at the Alamo. Even taller were tales of Pecos Bill, with his lasso made from a live rattlesnake, the toughest cowboy in the world; and his wife Slue-Foot Sue, riding down the Rio Grande on the back of a giant catfish.

So, courtesy of some Lone Star DNA and basic reading comprehension skills, I think I know a Texas tall tale when I hear one, and presidential candidate and Texas Governor Rick Perry's tales of "the Texas miracle" are as tall as they come.

Between December 2000 and December 2010, the state did have a net gain of 907,000 jobs, more than half the 1.6 million new jobs nationwide during that same period. But a lot of the state's success in job creation looks more like dumb luck than evidence of ole Pecos Perry's political prowess or expertise in governance.

"It's not that the emperor has no clothes," Dan Hamermesh, an economics professor at the University of Texas, told the website AOL Jobs. "But he's got little more than a fig leaf over his crotch. It is a true fact, but he had nothing to do with it."

Perry points to deregulation and low taxes, including an incentive program called the Texas Enterprise Fund, said to have created 58,000 jobs, but there were many factors largely beyond his control, including increased trade between the United States and Mexico and the high price of gasoline that pumped revenue into the state, accompanied by new technologies for oil and gas extraction.

In the August 15 New York Times, Clifford Krauss reported,
The oil and gas industry now delivers roughly $325 billion a year to the state, directly and indirectly. It brings in $13 billion in state tax receipts, or roughly 40 percent of the total, financing up to 20 percent of the state budget.
What's more, a lot of the increase has been funded -- say it ain't so, Pecos! -- by federal largesse, including President Obama's economic stimulus. In the last 10 years, federal spending in the state has more than doubled to over $200 billion a year (thanks in large part to NASA and the many military installations in the state, including the aforementioned Fort Hood, one of the world's largest military bases and the biggest single employer in Texas).

Of all the U.S. government jobs added in this country between 2007 and 2010, 47 percent of them were in Texas. According to Jared Bernstein, former economic adviser to Joe Biden,
Texas employment wasn't down much at all in these years, as the state lost only 53,000 jobs. But looming behind that number are large losses in the private sector (down 178,000) and large gains (up 125,000) in government jobs.
Which shows, Bernstein goes on, that Texas has followed "a traditional Keynesian game plan: as the private sector contracts, turn to the public sector to temporarily make up part of the difference."

In 2009, Governor Perry made a show of rejecting $556 million in federal funds for unemployment, saying there were too many strings attached. In fact, that money was equal to only 2 percent of the more than $20 billion in stimulus money Texas did accept, including cash used to cover 97 percent of the state budget's shortfall for 2010, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures.

This, in spite of GOP attacks on the public sector, Perry's claim that the stimulus was failed and misguided, and the pledge in the announcement of his presidential candidacy that he would "work every day to make Washington, DC, as inconsequential in your lives as I can."

As the August 20 Washington Post noted,
The significant role of government in Texas' relative prosperity stands in stark contrast to the "go-it-alone" image cultivated by Perry, who credits a lack of government interference for fostering a business-friendly environment in Texas.
For those like Governor Perry who brag about being no-nonsense, freedom-loving cowpokes, it's a delusion that goes all the way back to the early settlement of the American West.

As Patricia Nelson Limerick writes in her seminal history, The Legacy of Conquest: "At any period in Western history, the rhetoric of Western independence was best taken with many grains of salt." Whether it was fighting Indians or gaining access to public grazing lands, the federal government has always been integral. "Nothing so undermines the Western claim to a tradition of independence," she writes, "as this matter of federal support to Western development...
And yet humans have a well-established capacity to meet facts of life with disbelief. In a region where human interdependence has been self-evident, Westerners have woven a net of denial.
Sounds familiar.

Accompanying Governor Perry's denial is cronyism and patronage, both good ole boy-style and corporate. (Of the $102 million in campaign contributions raised for his gubernatorial races, Katrina vanden Heuvel wrote, half came "from just 204 sources," and the Los Angeles Times reports, "Nearly half of those mega-donors received hefty business contracts, tax breaks, or appointments under Perry.")

So, too, with greed comes hubris and shortsightedness. The Times' Krauss reported that
critics, among them Democrats... have long complained that the state's economic health came at a steep price: a long-term hollowing out of its prospects because of deep cuts to education spending, low rates of investment in research and development, and a disparity in the job market that confines many blacks and Hispanics to minimum-wage jobs without health insurance.
A report from the policy research and advocacy group Demos and the Austin-based Center for Public Policy Priorities notes that
27 percent of Texas workers lack health insurance compared to 17 percent nationally. The ranks of the uninsured have grown steadily as access to employer-sponsored health insurance has declined... Fewer than half (48 percent) of the state's workers have access to a retirement plan at work, a figure that has plummeted since reaching a high of 61 percent in 2000.
Over the past 20 years, college costs in Texas have quadrupled, with the steepest jump occurring since tuition was deregulated by the state in 2003. Former first lady Barbara Bush observed in a February op-ed that the state ranks 49th in verbal SAT scores, 47th in literacy, and 46th in average math SAT scores:
We rank 36th in the nation in high school graduation rates. An estimated 3.8 million Texans do not have a high school diploma... the United Way estimates that the price tag for dropouts to Texas taxpayers is $9.6 billion every year.
But the state's latest budget cut $4 billion from public schools.

A recent, four part series on Perry's Texas from a team at the Houston Chronicle reports:
After a decade of Perry-style frugality the Texas welcome mat is growing increasingly threadbare as the state struggles to accommodate a booming, young populace hoping to travel its roads, get educated in its schools, drink its water, and access its health care system. During Perry's tenure the state has postponed investment or turned to debt to finance crucial infrastructure needs, experts say.
The average urban Texan loses a week a year to traffic delays on the state's "overburdened" highway system. While Perry boasts of luring thousands of doctors to the state, "lawmakers this year cut $805 million from doctors serving Medicaid patients" and "postponed $4 billion in Medicaid costs for payment in the next payment cycle." Texas is 48th out of 50 states in the number of physicians per 100,000 residents.

Perry doubts climate change is real, yet,
As Texas endures its most severe one-year drought in its history, state leaders have identified $53 billion in state investments needed to expand water capacity by 2060 but have not resolved how to pay for it. Unless Texas increases its water resources, experts say 83 percent of Texans will not have an adequate supply of water in times of drought.
Perry issued a proclamation urging Texans to pray for rain.

With more bad news ahead, stagnant wages, and an explosion in population and the labor force that now has unemployment advancing much faster than Perry's touted job growth, "the Texas miracle" is heading into a ditch.

Which brings to mind another tall tale, the old joke about the Texan who says to an Eastern visitor, "Yessir, I can drive across my ranch all day and all night and still not get to the other end." To which the visitor replies, "I know what you mean. I have a car like that, too."

[Michael Winship is senior writing fellow at Demos, president of the Writers Guild of America, East, and former senior writer of Bill Moyers Journal on PBS. This article was originally published at Truthout.

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16 August 2011

Sarito Carol Neiman : The Highs and Lows of Rick Perry's 'Texas Miracle'

And a tip of the ten-gallon hat to the 'Texas Miracle.' Photo by Paul Moseley / Ft. Worth Star-Telegram.

The highs and the lows:
Rick Perry’s 'Texas Miracle'


By Sarito Carol Neiman / The Rag Blog / August 16, 2011

Buried in the “Room for Debate” pages of The New York Times online is an interesting little piece by Ruben Navarrette Jr., a columnist with The Washington Post Writers Group, Cnn.com contributor, and member of the USA Today board of contributors. Before he reached such lofty national heights, Navarrette was on the editorial board of The Dallas Morning News, and sometime in the early part of 2003 he had the opportunity to interview Governor Rick Perry when he dropped by the Morning News offices.

In his “Room for Debate” piece, Navarrette recalls that at the time of the interview, he had just read a series in The New York Times about McWane, Inc., a company based in Birmingham, Alabama, that was, at the time, one of the world’s largest manufacturers of cast-iron sewer and water pipe, and had an absolutely horrendous and Dickensian record when it came to the safety of its workers.

Navarrette says he mentioned to the governor that this notorious company had said that it “would only do business in two places: developing countries and Texas." I asked the governor if he was bothered by this fact. He wasn’t, to put it mildly.
"Well," Mr. Perry said... "I don’t take direction from The New York Times." Then he changed the subject and proceeded to make the case for why many other companies had moved to Texas. He also adjusted his chair so that, for the rest of the meeting, he had his back to me. Message received.
Since Perry’s “Response” prayer rally in Houston, and the declaration of his candidacy for president, more and more nuggets of information have been surfacing about “Gov. Goodhair,” the secrets to his success, who his best buddies are, and the mediocre grades that characterized his passage through his college years.

And much chatter has arisen about the “Texas miracle” that appears, in the world of “damn lies and statistics,” to award credit to Perry’s stewardship for the (relative) lower unemployment rate and faster job growth in the great state of Texas than in much of the rest of the country during the recent economic meltdown.

No doubt there is much yet to surface about that miracle, as more pundits and commentators take a closer look under the hood of the Texas economic engine and discover all the low-wage jobs (Texas ties Mississippi for the most minimum-wage workers in the country), disparities between the rich and the middle class and working poor, and unequal tax burdens that fuel that engine. Complicated, of course, by a very large Mexican-American population that has a not-insignificant portion of socially conservative, just-grateful-not-to-be-caught in the border drug wars, component.

Meantime -- for the record -- here’s a short list of the highs and lows -- the “A’s” and the “F’s” if you will -- on the transcript of Rick Perry’s Texas miracle. It might begin to answer the question, at least, of why the McWane, Inc. management considered Texas to be equivalent to a third world country. For the B’s, C’s, D’s, and E’s, see the Texas on the Brink website.

A’s (Texas is #1 in the country!)
  • Amount of Carbon Dioxide Emissions
  • Amount of Volatile Organic Compounds Released into Air
  • Amount of Toxic Chemicals Released into Water
  • Amount of Recognized Cancer-Causing Carcinogens Released into Air
  • Amount of Hazardous Waste Generated
  • Number of Executions
  • Percent of Population Uninsured
F’s (Texas is 49th/50th in the country!)
  • Women’s Voter Turnout
  • Percent of Pregnant Women Receiving Prenatal Care in First Trimester
  • Workers’ Compensation Coverage
  • Per Capita State Spending on Mental Health
  • Per Capita State Spending on Medicaid
  • Percent of Population 25 and Older with a High School Diploma
  • Average Credit Score.
[Sarito Carol Neiman was a founding editor of The Rag in 1966 Austin, and later edited New Left Notes, the national newspaper of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS). With then-husband Greg Calvert, Neiman co-authored one of the seminal books of the New Left era, A Disrupted History: The New Left and the New Capitalism and later compiled and edited the contemporary Buddhist mystic Osho’s posthumous Authobiography of a Spiritually Incorrect Mystic. Neiman currently lives in Junction, Texas. Read more articles by Sarito Carol Neiman on The Rag Blog]The Rag Blog

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