I’ve done some research on the cost of healthcare in California. According to Stanford University, the average is $2,788 per family member annually. Based on numbers from the US Census Bureau, the average family size is 3.14. (Pi, interesting…)
That works out to $888 each per year.
Webster’s defines elderly as “somewhat old, later in life; near or approaching old age but not actually old.” I guess ‘elderly” and “pornography” are alike in that we might not always be able to define them, but we know each when we see it. That said, the average elderly healthcare cost per annum in the Golden State is $4,465, arguably quite a bit higher than the average family member.
Continuing down this yellow brick road, we come to the elderly prison population. The California Department of Corrections, also leaving elderly undefined says they cost $69,000 annually, more than three times the cost of the average inmate who comes in at a real bargain for only $21,000 per year and the reason for this huge difference is healthcare. I suppose hitting people over the head and running like hell with whatever they stole from them is a young-man’s game and keeps them in better shape.
So we spend an additional $48,000 per year for elderly healthcare in our prisons. And apparently pretty lousy healthcare if the prisoners and their advocates are to be believed. To be fair and balanced, I read somewhere that Attorney General Brown thinks it is pretty good. It certainly should be for that kind of money.
This is not a diatribe against taking better care of prisoners than honest people. In fact, I don’t think that happens. I think the medical care is just as hit and miss as it is for people everywhere else in the state. The difference being, of course, that when the taxpayers foot the bill, the costs soar astronomically for the same service. Or, often, for worse service.
One person posting a comment on the Bee’s editorial on the subject yesterday suggested that prisons routinely wait until medical problems become urgent or even emergencies before taking any significant steps to treat the condition. His assertion was anecdotal, but I suspect it is fairly representative. This is tantamount to making visits to the emergency room the norm rather than the exception and of course is the most expensive possible way to provide healthcare or anything else.
One of the ways California will be able to save money and help to bring the budget into line is to provide adequate and efficient healthcare to its inmate population. We shouldn’t allow our desire to add some sort of non-judicial punishment in the form of bad medical care result in an unintended financial burden to the taxpayers. It is unethical treatment for prisoners and it results in additional unnecessary expenses as well.
There are times compassion makes financial sense. This is one of those times.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Sources of reference:
http://factfinder.census.gov/servlet/SAFFFacts
http://www.nicic.org/Library/014705
http://www.lao.ca.gov/analysis_2003/crim_justice/cj_04_5240_anl03.htm
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/elderly
http://www.100percentcampaign.org/assets/pdf/fs-healthy-families-050615a.pdf
Monday, January 26, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Sunday Musings
Tap-Tap
Lake Street in Garden Grove California was long and fairly wide as residential streets go. It was lined by houses that were identical on the inside with different exteriors displayed to the world.
A few homes were owned and occupied by ancient retirees (whom I probably wouldn’t regard as all that ancient now) and in others there may have been singles, or couples without children but the majority held at least three kids, and most had considerably more that that. This is now almost an astonishing thought in itself, the very idea of two and even three children sharing one small bedroom. But then there was only one bathroom for the kids and a single television set for the entire family.
Presiding over the children were two parents, married to each other with mom almost always staying at home and dad going off to work each day. A street full of traditional families. This isn’t the only way to arrange a family, but it is, I think, the best way.
Along with the sun rising and setting and old Walt across the street coming home drunk on Friday night, something we could count on seeing every afternoon on school days and all day long on weekends and holidays were the kids occupying all those houses playing outside on the sidewalks and in the street.
Girls played with dolls and pretended to be mothers, pushing small strollers around or pretending to drink tea with each other. The fiction didn’t go so far as to include chain-smoking Lucky Strikes while vacuuming or doing laundry and ironing and this was probably just as well. They must have done other things, but at this point in life the boys didn’t have much interest in the girls. It is astonishing how much that would change in just a few years.
But today on Lake Street the boys were interested in street football and street baseball. The primary difference between these games and their sandlot versions was the participants layout, that is to say the games, especially baseball, had a longer and thinner configuration because the street was narrower than an empty field. Also, the game play would have to be suspended more frequently in the street versions because of traffic.
Before each game the different participants would try to gain possession of the ball and while holding it they would say “Tap-Tap”. This would be followed by some self-serving modification of the rules such as “Tap-tap, no stealing second base.” I loved the practice, although I never used it myself because tap-tapping was a wonderful way to learn the opponents’ weaknesses and strengths. The motivations for different announcements were usually obvious. There wasn’t much that could be done during the present game since tap-taps had an almost biblical force of law on Lake Street.
But in future games, all that needed to be done was prevent these individuals from gaining access to the ball. No ball, no pronouncements. Some might suggest this was a silly way to decide who could modify the game, but it was a powerful tradition, and one the boys were loath to change. I suspect if someone had suggested simply playing by the rules as they were originally written without tap-taps, the others would decry such an idea as being deviant and even dangerous.
But I think the other boys liked the tradition for the same reason I did. Taking the long view, it was a win-win process. Players with good listening skills and long memories could gain an advantage. Weaker players could, at least temporarily, provide themselves a safe harbor from areas of weakness and hopefully enjoy the game a little more.
I think it is best to simply play by traditional rules because I think it provides an optimal game experience. That said, if others agree to play by different rules, in their own ball games, I don’t see what business it is of mine. The game I’m playing is just fine.
Lake Street in Garden Grove California was long and fairly wide as residential streets go. It was lined by houses that were identical on the inside with different exteriors displayed to the world.
A few homes were owned and occupied by ancient retirees (whom I probably wouldn’t regard as all that ancient now) and in others there may have been singles, or couples without children but the majority held at least three kids, and most had considerably more that that. This is now almost an astonishing thought in itself, the very idea of two and even three children sharing one small bedroom. But then there was only one bathroom for the kids and a single television set for the entire family.
Presiding over the children were two parents, married to each other with mom almost always staying at home and dad going off to work each day. A street full of traditional families. This isn’t the only way to arrange a family, but it is, I think, the best way.
Along with the sun rising and setting and old Walt across the street coming home drunk on Friday night, something we could count on seeing every afternoon on school days and all day long on weekends and holidays were the kids occupying all those houses playing outside on the sidewalks and in the street.
Girls played with dolls and pretended to be mothers, pushing small strollers around or pretending to drink tea with each other. The fiction didn’t go so far as to include chain-smoking Lucky Strikes while vacuuming or doing laundry and ironing and this was probably just as well. They must have done other things, but at this point in life the boys didn’t have much interest in the girls. It is astonishing how much that would change in just a few years.
But today on Lake Street the boys were interested in street football and street baseball. The primary difference between these games and their sandlot versions was the participants layout, that is to say the games, especially baseball, had a longer and thinner configuration because the street was narrower than an empty field. Also, the game play would have to be suspended more frequently in the street versions because of traffic.
Before each game the different participants would try to gain possession of the ball and while holding it they would say “Tap-Tap”. This would be followed by some self-serving modification of the rules such as “Tap-tap, no stealing second base.” I loved the practice, although I never used it myself because tap-tapping was a wonderful way to learn the opponents’ weaknesses and strengths. The motivations for different announcements were usually obvious. There wasn’t much that could be done during the present game since tap-taps had an almost biblical force of law on Lake Street.
But in future games, all that needed to be done was prevent these individuals from gaining access to the ball. No ball, no pronouncements. Some might suggest this was a silly way to decide who could modify the game, but it was a powerful tradition, and one the boys were loath to change. I suspect if someone had suggested simply playing by the rules as they were originally written without tap-taps, the others would decry such an idea as being deviant and even dangerous.
But I think the other boys liked the tradition for the same reason I did. Taking the long view, it was a win-win process. Players with good listening skills and long memories could gain an advantage. Weaker players could, at least temporarily, provide themselves a safe harbor from areas of weakness and hopefully enjoy the game a little more.
I think it is best to simply play by traditional rules because I think it provides an optimal game experience. That said, if others agree to play by different rules, in their own ball games, I don’t see what business it is of mine. The game I’m playing is just fine.
Clutter
We frequently find ourselves deciding that we must get more out of life. That we are not doing enough. What is curious is that all too often, we feel this way because we are not participating in life as we think we should and we proceed to try and get more. Take more. Acquire more.
The problem grows as we become even more dissatisfied, more impatient, so we climb and seek power and attempt to gather even more stuff into our already crowded lives.
What we really need to do, is to start giving. Not money or stuff, although that might help, but give more of ourselves. Spend time and listen to the children. Visit, and provide for others. Use our stuff to help others. Be wherever we are while we are there, and not off somewhere else.
I often feel as though I should simplify my life and get rid of my stuff. But I can do this without clearing the garage. The real junk I need to get rid of is in my head, and heart, and soul. There is all kinds of good stuff there too, but the junk keeps getting in the way, and somehow forces itself to the forefront, making it somehow more important than the things that really count.
Clearing the clutter, both physically and psychologically will only solve part of the problem. The spiritual clutter needs to go too, and I’m finding that in my case it is legion. In fact, I need to give priority to the spiritual clutter, then the psychological. Assuming I haven’t died of old age before I’m done, then I can work on the physical clutter.
Who knows, if they carry me out feet first, then it’ll be someone else’s problem!
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