Sa’day’s Wandering Political Thoughts

So you know, just as a reminder

The new United Healthcare Group CEO, Andrew Witty, has said that the United States’s healthcare system is ‘flawed’.

“No one would design a system like the one we have. And no one did. It’s a patchwork built over decades. Our mission is to help make it work better,” Witty said in a New York Times op-ed published Friday morning, titled “The Health Care System Is Flawed. Let’s Fix It.”

Sure, no one would design a system whereby greedy execs would bow to shareholders and increase profits, stock prices, dividends, and executive bonuses keep increasing their wealth at the cost to the health of the customers who depend on it. That’s why such a system is a rarity in the United States among industries. Yes, that was enriched snark.

Here comes more snark. And, gosh, it must be really hard to fix it. Witty’s predecessor, the late Brian Thompson, had ‘only been with’ United Healthcare for twenty years. As part of his efforts to fixed that flawed system, the company saw profits increase from $12,000,000,000 in 2021 to $16,000,000,000 in 2023, which covers Thompson’s time as CEO.

Naturally, Witty praised Thompson’s efforts to improve healthcare for everyone:

“As Brian Thompson’s family, friends and colleagues mourn his killing, we are bearing a grief and sadness we will carry for the rest of our lives. Grief for the family he leaves behind. And grief for a brilliant, kind man who was working to make healthcare better for everyone,” Witty wrote.

Undoubtably, Thompson’s work work to fixed that flawed service was making progress, judging from the story shared on Diane Ravitch’s blog about the women being denied benefits by the healthcare giant.

I am sure that Witty will carry on Thompson’s ‘good work’. I expect a slow rollout of those improvements, a very, very, very slow rollout.

Floofingent

Floofingent (floofinition) – A decision or activity conditional on an animal’s mood, activity, behavior, or decision. Origins: 15th century, Middle Flooflish, borrowed from Middle Froof & Medfloofal Latin.

In Use: “Invited out for a holiday dinner, Bob hedged, telling others that his cat seemed down, so his attendance was floofingent on her.”

In Use: “Barb’s acceptance of men in her life was largely floofingent on her dogs’ reaction to the guys she brought home. If the dogs said no, the relationship was done.”

Sa’day’s Theme Music

Mood: Drowsaday

I slept in today. Three aspects drove it. One, my foot was cranky for rest, two, the night’s weather, and three, my bed was seductively warm and comfortable.

Foot/ankle continues getting better but I press to improve. That sometimes backfires. It’s a two-step, you know, step forward, step back, step forward, step back.

The night weather, though, holy stormy, Batman. Wind was busy when we went to bed. Rain was dumping. Few hours later, I awoke to distinctive moaning and a freight train sound. My youthful tornado experiences mumbled to my sleepy mind, “That sounds like tornado.” I checked the time – 5:05 – and rumbled out of bed and to the outside doors. Looking for tornado funnels, of course. In the dark. Hello.

Papi was out. That dumbfounded me. I checked his back patio condo. His usual refuge, it was disconcertinhly empty. Rain was spraying through the covered patio, because the wind was shoving it sideways. So it wasn’t the safe harbor that it normally was. Given that, I pelted back to the front door. See if Papi was cowering around there. Nope. I did some calling and whistling. No Papi. Repeated that in the back. Watched, waited, wondered.

Back to bed. The wind dropped the moan and its freigh train imitation. Serenity settled over the darkness. Whap, whap, whap. Papi’s familiar rap carried from the front door. I hustled out there to bring him in.

His fur was dry.

To end the tale, I fed Papi and returned to be ’bout 6:25. Settling in, I elevated my foot. Tucker found my hand and rested his head on it. Sleep hit me over the head. When my awareness next resurfaced, the timepiece’s digit were showing 9:45.

Pretty out there today, Saturday, December 21, 2024. Everything is wet but drying. Nothing in my vision’s field is wind-disturbed. Sunshine and a cloud-marbled blue sky rocks the valley. Temp of 46 with a few degrees left until we touch the high. That might be deceptive; I just watched an elderly-appearing guy making his way up the hill past my house. Wearing a light jacket with bare hands, he yanked the zipper up as far it would go and pulled his hands up into his jacket sleeves.

Today’s morning mental music stream (Trademark snoozing) occupant is Willie Williams with “Armagedeon Time”. Came ’bout from mind mutterings while listening to the wind and hoping the homeless and animals were all safe. But with lyrics like, “Lot of people won’t get no justice tonight” and “lots of people won’t get no supper tonight”, the song is a fitting tune to herald the coming year and concerns about GOP willingness cut up the nation’s social safety net.

BTW, this is it, shortest day of the year in the northern hemy. Take a few days but the days will cease their early sunsets and begin curving toward more hours of sunshine. Feels really needed as we end the tumultuous 2024.

Got coffee, had brekkie, and ready to boogie. Here’s the music. Merry solstice, ya’ll. Cheers

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