Women and men on the Internet
- “If there is an overall pattern of differences here, it is that men value the Internet for the breadth of experiences it offers, and women value it for the human connections,” said Deborah Fallows, senior research fellow at the Pew Internet Project, who authored the new report, How Women and Men Use the Internet.
- Women age 18 to 29 post some of the highest online percentages at 86 percent. Their male counterparts lag behind at 80 percent.
- Men are more likely to check the weather, read the news, get do-it-yourself information, check for sports information, get political and financial information, do job-related research, download software, listen to music, download music files, use a webcam, take a class, and rate a product, person, or service through an online reputation system.
- Women are more likely to use email, get maps and directions, look for health and medical information, use web sites to get support for health or personal problems, and find religious information.
It's a Wonderful Internet and other funny stuff
I also thought this, "Christmastime for the Jews," was kind of funny, especially the part about playing for the Lakers.
Labels: fun 'n games
That old tired saying about not knowing what you have until you've lost it applied to Shira and my relationship to her. We were juniors in college when she died, but I had known her since freshman year. We didn't really travel in the exact same social circles, but I knew her from Hillel and some mutual friends and spoke with her when I saw her. We were assigned to the same dorm sophomore year, so we got to see more of each other that way. During our junior year, we were assigned to the same floor in the same dorm, so I saw even more of her. That fall, we had some interesting conversations about egalitarianism and Judaism. As anyone who knew her can attest, she was a staunch and fierce proponent of egalitarian Judaism, and I was a somewhat jaded Orthodox Jew. One morning on the shuttle between our far-flung dorm and the main campus, we spoke about selichot, and the difficulty of going to them in the mornings preceding Rosh Hashanah. We sometimes shared a meal in the dining hall and spoke about papers we were writing. She once performed a miraculous feat and edited a paper for me sometime between 2 am and 9 am. I sometimes ran into her in the computer lab, when we were both working feverishly. The last conversation I had with Shira was in the computer lab, a day or so before the accident, commiserating over work and the sloped dormer ceilings we both had--she had accidentally scraped her hand on the rough plaster. When she died, I was deep into the process of becoming friends with her. Loss of the past, present, and future of my growing friendship with Shira intermingled in my mind.
I don't know what to do, what to do with this old, tired pain, and with the anger, too. Grief. It's so damned unpredictable. One minute you're calmly reflecting on the life of someone you've lost, and the next minute, the cruel heartless unpredictability of her life hits you hard. Does the grief and anger ever go away? Why do 20 year olds die? Ever? Why are 20 year olds struck in the street by a driver who is not drunk, just briefly distracted?
The first year, the year of her death, was horrific, but numbing. It's all a mess in my head--the latke bash at Hillel, a rainy night, the news in the morning, disbelief, visiting her and holding her hand and telling her I loved her and willing wishing hoping life into her in the intensive care unit, seeing her grief-stricken strong loving crushed parents and sister, seeing my friends walking around shocked and empty, being utterly alone in the dorm at the beginning of winter break and seeing no one except the security guard and Shira's ever-present friends and relatives at the hospital, going to my grandmother in New York not knowing what was happening to Shira, hearing of her death the first day of Chanukah, going to the funeral, seeing hundreds and hundreds of people there, hearing people's memories of Shira before we had even really grasped the finality of her death, going to the grave, seeing dirt being put onto the coffin by Shira's grandmother and parents and thinking that no grandmother should ever have to bury her granddaughter, going to the shiva house, the long silent drive back from New Jersey to Cambridge, and the shock and disbelief and incredulity at the horror of the world in all of those 20 and 21-year-old faces.
It was Chanukah and I wanted to yell at God. I didn't want to sing God's praises in the form of Hallel for almost a week following her funeral. Such a thought was absurd. I love Hallel, but that Chanukah, Hallel seemed like one cosmic joke gone horribly awry. How do you sing the praises of One who let a 20 year old die?
The day after the funeral, I flew to California to spend the end of Chanukah with my other grandparents, because I had already made plans and the alternative was spending a week alone in the dorm where Shira and I had both lived. I was so sad and empty and lonely. Going back to school and try to finish up the fall semester with all of its attendant finals and papers was hell on multiple levels.
That was Shira's death to me. Everyone had their own experience of it.
Shira's first yahrzeit, we were all seniors in college, and it was the first anniversary of her death. It was the first time we were remembering her death--not experiencing it as bystanders. We were removed from her death by a year, and from her life by a year. There was a memorial service at Hillel, and we learned beautiful texts in her memory. It also signified the end of a very painful year. After this, it would no longer, in any way, be "the year Shira died." A year during which whenever I turned around on campus, I saw Shira standing there. I shook my head and she would be gone, replaced by some other petite, beautiful, smiling student. I had a very powerful dream about Shira during that first year after her death. We had an important conversation and it was as real to me as any conversation I've had with anyone in life, and it helped me move on in many ways.
What does one do with the memories of Shira, the memories of the pain of her death, and the residual grief? What do you do with grief? It sometimes seems, as the years go by, that the grief recedes. I would hope that there might come a time when I would be less angry and more accepting of all of the gifts that Shira bestowed upon us: smiles, happiness, music, dance...the list, of course, goes on... I sit here on the first night of Chanukah listening to the soundtrack from Guys & Dolls in Shira's memory, and it seems right and appropriate. But sometimes I worry that I am not sad enough, not grief-stricken enough. Or else I worry that I am too sad, too grief-stricken, and have not moved on or gained enough appreciation for all of the good things of Shira's life that live on through us, her friends. And I worry that I have not done enough to remember her.
What does it all mean, five years later?
I'm really not sure.
I miss you, Shira. I miss you so much.
Labels: In Memoriam
I Like Christmas the Best
But I kind of like all of the lights and kitsch of Christmas. First of all, I adore the smell of fresh pine trees that line the streets of New York. It reminds me of the holiday of Sukkot, back in the day, when people used evergreen boughs for schach instead of that roll-out bamboo stuff, and the smell would fill the yard. (At least in my neck of the woods--I imagine people in other parts of the world use whatever is native there. But that piney stuff sure smells nice, even if it does sometimes make those little green wormy things float on silken threads, dangling right over your hot soup. Anyone know what those are? Yech...) I like the cheerful, peppy music, and almost nothing beats the Gingerbread Latte and Peppermint Hot Chocolate drinks that Starbucks concocts every December. And, finally, I like it that everyone brightens up for just a little while in what sometimes feels like the dead of winter but is really just the beginning of a very long slog through the cold, short, heartless days of winter.
One more thing about Christmas--as much as I enjoy it from afar, I am very glad that I don't celebrate it. I am so glad that I don't feel all this pressure to buy stuff. I know that the buybuybuy mentality it not what Christmas really is, or should be, about for Christians, but it does overwhelm the holiday and the country at this time of year. And I am quite happy saving my money this time of year, and finding things on sale at other times of year (or right after Christmas). I don't have to brave the crowds or buy gifts for anyone. I tend not to be a big gift-giver (or gift receiver), including on Chanukah and birthdays, but I think most people feel that they have to give gifts to all of their friends and relatives on Christmas, and I don't. Which is quite nice. Plus, I never had to believe or not believe in Santa Claus. I always knew it was all a big lie. (Now the Tooth Fairy, that's another thing entirely!)
Please note that all of this is not to disparage Chanukah, which has nothing in common with Christmas except the time of year in which it occurs. Chanukah is one of my favorite holidays that I do celebrate! It's a nice one, and fairly low-key (in a good way), although it really hasn't been the same since I lost a dear friend on the first night of Chanukah. Tomorrow night, the first night of Chanukah, is her fifth yahrtzheit. I still miss her. Maybe that will be another post if I feel up to it.
Someone was listening...
Strike (day) three! I've had enough!
You hear? Good. Thanks for listening.
UPDATE: I heard a train running this morning! The B or C! Running uptown! (You can't hear the downtown trains from the street.) Then I read this in the New York Times: "Supervisors have been running empty trains over the rails to keep the rails polished and prevent rust." Oh, well. I'm glad they're keeping the rails polished and rust-free.
Labels: New York
Strike (day) two! More observations from the field
However, I really like sunshine and walking, both of which were in abundance this morning. Once I put on a little Ella Fitzgerald and Duke Ellington and went on my merry way, I was happy as a clam. It felt so good to be outside in the fresh air, or what passes for fresh air in these parts. I gained a renewed appreciation for Central Park.
Along the way, I observed:
- much less honking than yesterday
- much less traffic on Broadway than yesterday
- the local bike store still doing a brisk business, but not as much as yesterday
- lots and lots of trucked parked along 96th St. and along Columbus north of 96th St., waiting until 11 am until they could venture below 96th St. (commercial traffic prohibited below 96th St. between 5 am and 11 am)
- cops yelling at trucks parked on 96th St., telling them to wait further north, since they were blocking all kinds of legitimate pre-11 am traffic on 96th St.
- three people in a car, trying to go south of 96th St. on Amsterdam. The cops wouldn't let them through, but helped them out by going to a corner where people were waiting to cross. There, they recruited a woman who was going downtown, to round out the car and make it legal.
- one very upset woman, driving alone in a mini-van, trying to drive south of 96th St., where cars with fewer than 4 occupants are verboten during the workday--she was arguing with a cop and saying, "I need to get home, I have a very sick child at home" and she was waving some sort of piece of paper. I felt terrible for her, and a little guilty for enjoying the strike so much. And I felt bad for the cop she was yelling at, who was merely doing her job. They eventually let her through.
- at work, the maintenance staff was planning carpools and shared taxis and tentative weekend plans if the strike is still on. They mostly live out in the Bronx, Brooklyn, and Queens.
Also, this graphic from today's New York Times, especially "The Worst Affected" graphic, supports my assertion that the worst affected by this strike are the people who live the farthest out and rely on the transit system the most.
Labels: New York
Strike (day) two! American Jewish women and the history of the American labor movement
Rose Schneiderman (1882-1972) and all of that. The Jewish Labor Committee has a list of interesting readings on the American Jewish labor movement.
I can recommend this terrific book, called Common Sense and a Little Fire, if you're interested in the history of American Jewish women in the labor movement at the turn of the last century. It's about Rose Schneiderman, Pauline Newman, Clara Lemlich Shavelson, and Fannia Cohn, and I read it for a class my freshman year (I think). It was this class, taken as part of my history requirement in college, that convinced me that I needed to major in History and Women's Studies.
I kind of miss this stuff. This stuff being the the history of women in reform movements in the United States from the 1880s through the end of WW I and the granting of woman suffrage. It used to fascinate me, and in some ways, it still does. I think I am especially interested in the visual media from that period, and in the use of images, especially of women, to both sell and denounce ideas.
I don't miss it enough to do anything about it right now, because I'm too busy just living my life such as it is at the moment...
Strike (day) one! Observations from the field
Yeah, so the strike that didn't happen on Friday happened today. I walked to work this morning. Along the way, I observed a lot of irate people stuck in traffic, one very busy bicycle shop, and many, many more pedestrians than usual. It was kind of nice (except for the honking cars with irate drivers). The street that weren't full of angry people in cars were empty and quiet and lovely, because they were being saved as routes for emergency vehicles. People were jollier than usual (doesn't take much in New York!), and it was nice to see so many people out and about. There was a sort of pioneer spirit in the air--"I usually take the subway downtown, but dognabit, today I'm going to walk!" It felt like everyone was in the same boat, more or less.
Except, of course, wealthier people who lived and worked in Manhattan had an easier time than people who had to come in from outlying areas (I don't mean Westchester County or Greenwich, I mean Brooklyn or Queens or the Bronx). I heard one man on a bicycle saying that something sucked (I couldn't hear what) and that someone or other didn't care about the poor people. One of the reasons that I live where I live is because, in a pinch (or even not a pinch--on a day when I get up early enough), I can walk to work. I pay excessive rent for this privilege. I am lucky that way.
Labels: New York
Public libraries and the Internet
That's it! I'm becoming an associate of the library! There, now I feel much better. At least I'm doing something...
So I don't go to the library much these days. I do most of my reading on the Internet. Even when I wrote a paper for my library science class, we were supposed to get all of our sources from various electronic databases--I didn't do any research in the physical library, although the resources were provided by the library. The New York Public Library is no different in terms of resources available online. In addition to their Digital Library, they have all of these electronic databases. You can even search their entire catalog in Hebrew, from your very own home! (I think that's mostly for searching for things from their Dorot Division.)
It's an interesting philosophical question--where is the library if so many of its resources are available online and if working people can't go because it's never open? Will the brick and mortar library be replaced by the library-on-the-Internet? It sometimes appears that way. Would that be a good thing? I think I would miss physical libraries if they disappeared. I once went into the NYPL to use one of their electronic resources and I sat in a room full of computers, with other people tip-tapping away next to me...and it was kind of sad. Not like the somber, stately reading rooms of yore. I'm no luddite by any means, but I sure do love paper books.
Why I have to leave this city before I get sucked into the vortex
Chayyei Sarah's Appreciation Wednesdays
On this Wednesday, however, she wants to know what we appreciate. So, go tell her! And tell me! And tell the person, people, or creatures you appreciate! If it's an inaminate object, you can tell it, too, but people might look at you like you're crazy.
The nation's most literate cities, 2005
San Francisco, CA
St. Paul, MN
I am actually not so surprised that Boston made it but New York did not. Of course, an anecdote does not make a fact, but during my working days in Boston, I noticed that almost everyone on the T* was reading (either a book or a newspaper). The same was not true on the buses, for various reasons. Fewer people read on the subway in New York City, even though there are still a fair number of people reading. I also noticed that six of the ten cities get really cold in the winter, although they are not the coldest cities in the US by any means. I wonder if that has anything to do with it?
The ranking was slightly different in 2004, when the previous study on this subject was done.
If you go to the links on the left side of the page for the 2005 study, you'll also find out interesting things like the ten American cities with the most booksellers. I was very surprised that Boston did not make that list, or New York, for that matter. (Even though fewer people seem to read here, there are a lot of bookstores. Or so I thought. I guess if it's calculated per capita that probably works against New York.) On the same page, you'll find this associated "factoid":
The presence of retail book stores is positively associated with quality of libraries. So, it is not a question of whether people buy books or check them out: they do both or neither.Anyway, I'll leave the rest for you to explore. Hint: All the fun factoids are gathered in one place here.
Hat tip to CNet News, a.k.a. news.com.com!
*When I first moved to New York City, I kept calling the subway the "T," much to the amusement of my native New York friends. I still sometimes do, when I'm tired enough.
Cutting down on junk mail
This has gotten particularly bad for me. I mean, I like getting the Lands End catalog since they sometimes have good prices on things and that reminds me to go online and check their overstock website. Although even they are going overboard lately, what with three catalogs arriving in the past month. But I also get several charity solicitations a day (my fault--I give charity) and tons of credit card offers or those annoying "checks" from credit card companies. The latter two categories go right into the shredder for me, since I'm not keen on dealing with the aftermath of identity theft. But it's time-consuming and annoying as hell. Plus, it makes me into a bad roommate. I come home, see the stack of 10 envelopes from the day, and can't deal with separating out the one or two important ones from the rest, so I let them pile up on the shelf and they eventually become mountainous and messy. I try to clear them away once a week, by which time I almost have enough to fill a paper grocery sack. Or so it seems.
So this is what I did today, and as soon as I have the energy, I will call my credit card companies and see if they will stop sending me things besides my statements.
Direct Marketing Association's Mail Preference Service: you can pay $5 and do it online or pay 37 cents and mail them a letter (guess which option I chose!)
Opt-Out of pre-approved credit card and insurance offers with the three credit bureaus: You can choose to opt-in, opt-out for five years, or opt-out permanently. It takes two seconds.
I found these two options above here. These were the two easiest, quickest, online options. They should make a difference over the next 1-6 months. There are other options, but they seem to involve placing actual phone calls.
You can also try junkmailstopper.com, and this website, although I haven't really looked at them in any depth, though, so use their advice at your own risk.
Let me know if you have any other tips or thoughts. Thanks!
Several good reasons not to wear makeup
Aside from all that, though, the main issues I have with makeup are the time it takes to put on (which could better be spent sleeping or reading or pretty much anything else), and the fact that it's sometimes really uncomfortable (like you feel like your face is caked with...something). And if you have anything near your eyes, and you rub them, you look ridiculous. And that if you get makeup that doesn't smear around your eyes then it takes a serious chemical wash to remove. But, hey, aside from that...!
P.S. I still find it fun to wear makeup sometimes. Why?
It's good to know what you don't like
This particular young relative had wanted to be a fire fighter for a very long time, at least in "young people's time." (A year for me is like almost nothing now, it's scary. When I was little, an hour seemed like f o r e v e r...) She recently told her mother that she had decided that she didn't want to be a fire fighter. Her mother asked her why and she said, "Because I don't like smoke."
It's good to know what you don't like. In college one semester I found the several-hundred-page course guide so overwhelming that I cut out all the pages from the departments that I knew I wasn't interested in (Physics, Earth and Planetary Sciences, East Asian Studies), so it wouldn't be so hard to choose from what was left.
I also went to a career fair there once and discovered a plethora of careers that I was emphatically not interested in. That was something of a relief--no need to go through the recruiting wringer, etc.
New York City had its first snow on Sunday. At least, I assume it was on Sunday. I went outside at 3 pm on Sunday and was shocked to see snow on the ground, since I didn't notice it as it was coming down.
Funniest overheard comment, from a mother to her young child, on the streets of New York, "I never, ever want to see you putting snow in your mouth! Do you understand?"
I found this to be sad, since I used to eat snow as a kid. Of course, only from my yard, snow that hadn't been walked on, etc. Do city kids at least get to eat snow in Central Park? Not that it tastes that good, but it's so irresistible that I imagine any kid needs to try it at least once.
Funniest visual moment: Seeing a 4-ish-year-old girl carrying a chunk of snow in her mittened hands, all the way up Broadway, with her dad. I saw them at one point, and then saw them again about a mile further north, snow still gently cradled in mittened hands. So cute! And funny!
Happy Monday Story: Colored Bubbles
This really makes a great story--it has intrigue, mishaps, dedicated scientists working 'round the clock, and a happy ending.
Three cheers for inventor Tim Kehoe!
It reminds me a bit of the original flubber movie, which I remember enjoying as a kid shortly after we got a VCR. Especially the part about accidentally discovering a bouncing bubble!
Do you love your Mac?
Chodesh Kislev tov, everyone. Woo hoo! 25 days until Chanukah! I have no deeper thoughts than that at the moment, but maybe I will if I get some sleep this weekend...? One can always hope.
Enjoy the directions for lighting Chanukah candles in American Sign Language, to the left here, couresy of the Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations (most commonly known as the "OU," the people who supervise food production and then put kosher symbols on packaged food).
Addendum: Why is a male child depicted on the card? I should think, even in 1981, that (at least Ashkenazi) Jewish girls were lighting Chanukah candles along with their brethren. (See Babylonian Talmud Shabbat 23a for a reason why. See Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim 17:2 and 589:6 for why Sephardi women don't make brachot over time-bound mitzvot, even ones they are obligated in, if there is a man around to fulfill their obligation. See this for some elucidation on this esoteric topic.)
Ha, ha! No, I can't relate at all!
December 1, 2005
Danger Signs for Too Much of a Good Thing
FIFTEEN signs of an addiction to using the Internet and computers, according to Internet/Computer Addiction Services in Redmond, Wash., follow:
- Inability to predict the amount of time spent on computer.
- Failed attempts to control personal use for an extended period of time.
- Having a sense of euphoria while on the computer.
- Craving more computer time.
- Neglecting family and friends.
- Feeling restless, irritable and discontent when not on the computer.
- Lying to employers and family about computer activity.
- Problems with school or job performance as a result of time spent on the computer.
- Feelings of guilt, shame, anxiety or depression as a result of time spent on the computer.
- Changes in sleep patterns.
- Health problems like carpal tunnel syndrome, eye strain, weight changes, backaches and chronic sleep deprivation.
- Denying, rationalizing and minimizing adverse consequences stemming from computer use.
- Withdrawal from real-life hobbies and social interactions.
- Obsessing about sexual acting out through the use of the Internet.
- Creation of enhanced personae to find cyberlove or cybersex.
I found the article itself to be interesting and somewhat amusing. To some extent, I think the time people now spend on computers used to be spent watching TV or reading books or something. I've certainly been accused of "burying myself in a book," as if that was unhealthy or anti-social or something, whereas nowadays, the anti-social activity that's most popular is going online. You could say that it's worse because it's possible that you think more while reading books or that books cause less eyestrain (except for certain people who think that reading with a 40 watt bulb is "reading in the dark"). Or you could say that it's better because being online and chatting, e-mailing, commenting on blogs, etc., is more social than reading a book alone. Up for debate, I would say.
In any case, there is no doubt in my mind that people are spending more and more time online, possibly to the detriment of other things, and that people who have other addiction issues to things that are readily available online (fill in the blank yourself) would have more of a problem with overuse of the Internet than other people. That's basically what the article said. There--now you don't have to read it yourself!
AP story about new CPR guidelines
The AP article said that it can be taught effectively in half an hour. Who knew?
You can find CPR classes in the US through the American Heart Association website, here. I learned CPR for infants and kids when I took a babysitting class when I was 12, but since they recommend taking a class every couple of years (and not, say, every fourteen years), and since I never learned CPR for adults, this seems like a worthwhile thing to do.
Letter from George Washington to the Hebrew Congregation of Newport
I thought this was appropriate for Thanksgiving.
While I received with much satisfaction your address replete with expressions of esteem, I rejoice in the opportunity of assuring you that I shall always retain grateful remembrance of the cordial welcome I experienced on my visit to New Port from all classes of citizens.
The reflection on the days of difficulty and danger which are past is rendered the more sweet from a consciousness that they are succeeded by days of uncommon prosperity and security.
If we have wisdom to make the best use of the advantages with which we are now favored (1), we cannot fail, under the just administration of a good government, to become a great and happy people (2).
The citizens of the United States of America have a right to applaud themselves for having given to mankind examples of an enlarged and liberal policy—a policy worthy of imitation. All possess alike liberty of conscience and immunities of citizenship.
It is now no more that toleration is spoken of as if it were the indulgence of one class of people that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights (3), for, happily, the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.
It would be inconsistent with the frankness of my character not to avow that I am pleased with your favorable opinion of my administration and fervent wishes for my felicity.
May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants—while every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid (4).
May the Father of all mercies scatter light, and not darkness, upon our paths, and make us all in our several vocations useful here, and in His own due time and way everlastingly happy (5).
August 1, 1790
(1) I think that having the "wisdom to make the best use of the advantages with which we are now favored" is the hardest thing in the world. Or one of them, at least. But it's so important! So why is it so hard?
(2) The mention of "a great and happy people" draws a smile. Are Americans a "happy people"? I'm not so sure. It's also interesting to remember that "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," I think started out as "life, liberty, and the pursuit of property" or "wealth" or something like that. Is the pursuit of happiness a value? What about just going for "contentedness" or "peacefulness" or "calm"? I think that making the best use of advantages is more important than seeking happiness, but mostly because I think that making the best use of advantages can lead to happiness. I think... Gotta' think about this one some more.
(3) "It is now no more that toleration is spoken of as if it were the indulgence of one class of people that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights..." I wish this had been true in 1790. Alas, it was not. I wonder what things we believe are true now will be shown, in retrospect, to be painfully false in 2220?
(4) This messianic imagery is interesting. I believe that early colonial writings and early American writings are full of it. I can't remember any specific examples now. It would be interesting to study, and to compare messianic earmy American imagery with messianic early Israeli imagery. That's my second dissertation, after I write one about the history of the 2nd Avenue subway line...
(5) I just love this last paragraph. LOVE it. "Father of all mercies" seems to be a direct translation of "av harachamim," which appears in Jewish liturgy. I love the image of God scattering light upon our paths--isn't that what we all want, really? Some light along the way? And then the plea to be useful--I think that this is something else that we ultimately all want out of life--to make some kind of contribution to the world. (Let me know when you figure out what mine should be, okay? Because I'm still in the dark over here.) And then back to the happiness--which I'm not so sure is an ultimate goal of mine, but tempered with "in his own due time and way" is a pleasant thought. I guess what I have an issue with is not happiness, because I do truly want that, but this "happiness NOW" phenomenon that I see around me, that seems kind of short-sighted.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving! I am off to a long-awaited, scrumptious meal with extended family!
"That's crazy. That's not what Thanksgiving is about. Just think about what it means. Thanks. Giving. Thanks for what we've been given."
Funny. I always thought Thanksgiving was about "giving thanks," not about thanks for what we've been given. What's the difference? Well, "giving thanks" implies giving thanks regardless of what we've been given, while "thanks for what we've been given" is very tied to what we actually have.
2nd Avenue subway line and predictions from the past
There is a particularly interesting graphic comparing the number of people who held and currently hold various jobs in New York. Some aren't surprising--there were 624 blacksmiths in NYC in 1955 and there are 0 today. (Where there still horses in NYC in 1955? I mean, besides the touristy/Central Park ones? I assume there were, even though that seems kind of weird to me.)
Another interesting thing is that they predicted a 2nd Avenue subway line, which we are, of course, still waiting for. (In 1973, this was published in a brief history of the 2nd Avenue Subway Line by the Urban Mass Transportation Administration:
By 1942, the Second Avenue Elevated which was badly deteriorated and obsolete was demolished. This led to severe overcrowding on the Lexington Avenue Subway Line and the Third Avenue Elevated, and greatly increased the need for a new subway.And it's still true today. I mean, the Lexington Avenue Subway Line is severely overcrowded.)
Has anyone written a dissertation on the history of the 2nd Avenue Subway Line? I feel like someone should. And anyone else interested in the history of the New York City subway system should take a look at this website with lots of old subway maps.
On Feeling Old
But I was recently reminded of the Sesame Street skit where a bunch of Muppets are singing in a rocking telephone booth, and when I went to look up the lyrics (God bless Google), I discovered (a) that it was called "Telephone Rock" and (b) just how much has changed since I watched Sesame Street (1982-1985, I think, and longer if you count watching it with younger siblings or while babysitting). Before I even get to deconstructing the lyrics, there are a few obvious differences:
(1) There are very few telephone boothes these days. Most people use cell phones.
(2) When there are phone boothes, they do not have accordion-fold doors. I thought this was to deter homeless people from sleeping in them, but someone else wisely pointed out that this is also an ADA issue. People in wheelchairs can't get into phone boothes with doors.
And now, on to the lyrics!
(lead singer picks up phone in phone booth)(3) There is no more picking up the phone and reaching an operator immediately. I don't think there was in 1980, either. I don't know what happens if you pick up the phone and press "0" now, but I doubt a person (i.e., "operator") answers. A computer probably answers.
Operator: Number please
I'm saying hey operator, please give us a hand
Ya gotta help us out 'cause we're the telephone band
We're calling all people that are sittin' at home
With some rocking and rolling on the telephone
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah....
Please operator, please give us a chance(4) There's no more dialing. This doesn't really count, though, since I think people still refer to "dialing" in connection with a telephone. Even though they mean "pressing little buttons."
The people are waiting so please dial us this dance
They want to hear our music yeah they want us to sing
So operator please make their telephone ring.
Rock rock rock(5) It does not only "cost a dime." It costs at least 50 cents, I think. Although, really, it's been years since I've made a call from a public payphone with actual coins. Before I had a cell phone I used a calling card, because it was cheaper. But still not ten cents for the whole call.
The telephone rock
Let's hear it one more time
Rock rock rock
The telephone rock
You know it only costs a dime yeah
Rock rock rock
The telephone rock
Note: Originally released on the album Signs (1977), Children's Television Workshop.
Which raises the question--did operators "pick up the phone" and place calls for people in 1977?
On Being Young
Place: In the woods.
Him: So, when did you graduate college?
Me: January 2003.
Him: Oh, you're young!
Me [thinking, this guy doesn't look so old]: Why, how old are you?
Him: I'm 27.
Me: Well, I'm 26.
Me: When did you graduate college?
Life is neither a contest nor a race, but if it were, he would win.
P.S. He's a year older and graduated four and a half years before me. Being me, I had to figure out exactly how that was possible. It turns out that his birthday is in February and he was very young for his grade, so he graduated high school two years before me, went to Israel for a year, and then did college in two years.
wheat, barley, vines, fig-trees, pomegranates, olive-trees, and [date] honey
Do you have thoughts about wheat, barley, vines (or grapes), fig-trees, pomegranates, olive-trees (or olive oil or olives), and [date] honey (or dates--the fruit, not the other kind)? Any thoughts at all? Jewish thoughts? General thoughts? Literary thoughts? Musical thoughts? Quotes of any kind? Send them my way, at firstname.lastname@example.org, or my regular e-mail address, should you be so lucky as to have it. This is critically important! The sooner the better! I am expecting an overflowing cornucopia (heh!) of response. Thanks!
If you could send this to all of your friends and associates, or, better yet, link to it/copy it onto your blog, all the better. Thanks!
These are some of thoughts that others have had about these items to get you started...
“R. Hanina ben Pazzi said: Thorns need not be hoed nor sown—they sprout on their own, rise straight up, and grow. But wheat—how much pain, how much labor is needed before it can be made to grow!”
–Genesis Rabbah 45:4
“When a man sees barley in a dream, it is a sign that his iniquities are removed, for it is said, ‘Thine iniquity is removed and thy sin is expiated.’ (Isaiah 6:7). R. Zera said: I did not decide to go up from
Babyloniato the until I saw barley in a dream.” Landof Israel
–B. Berachot 57a
“A man makes no noise over a good deed, but passes on to another as a vine to bear grapes again in season.”
–Marcus Aurelius, Meditations. v. 6.
“No great thing is created suddenly, any more than a bunch of grapes or a fig. If you tell me that you desire a fig, I answer you that there must be time. Let it first blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen.”
–Epictetus, Discourses. Chap. xv
“Why did you bring the LORD's community into this desert, that we and our livestock should die here? Why did you bring us up out of
to this terrible place? It has no grain or figs, grapevines or pomegranates. And there is no water to drink!" Egypt
“Rabbi Yehoshuah Ben Levi said: ‘Why is
compared to an olive tree? Because just as the leaves of an olive tree do not fall off either in summer or winter. So too, the Jewish people shall not be cast off - neither in this world nor in the World to Come.’” Israel
–Talmud, Menachot 53b
“The righteous will flourish like a [date] palm tree, they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the Lord, they will flourish in the courts of our God. They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green, proclaiming, ‘The Lord is upright; he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him.’”
(It's times like this that I wish I could just fire off an e-mail to Pfoho-Open... Alas, Harvard-NYC and the like just don't match the quick, multivaried, and brilliant responses of a bunch of undergrads with copious amounts of time on their hands.)
Goodnight Moon goes smokeless
I have had Goodnight Moon read to me, or I've read it to others, countless times in the past 2+ decades. I never, ever recall looking at the photo of the illustrator, Clement Hurd, that was apparently somewhere on the jacket. If I looked at the photo, I certainly never noticed that he was holding a cigarette. And had I noticed, I'm pretty sure that would not have increased the liklihood of my taking up cigarettes. I think you have to be a movie star for that kind of peer pressure to work. (Click here to see a not-very-good-webpage about the American Lung Association's "Hackademy Awards" for movies targeted towards kids and teens that glamorize smoking. I have a feeling that someone, somewhere, has shown that more kids start smoking when more movie stars smoke, either in the movies or in real life, but I haven't been able to find anything about it on the Web.)
In any case, I think that the altered photo is kind of ridiculous looking. This bookstore owner has a website where you can vote on whether you think Clement Hurd should keep his cigarette or hold nothing between his thumb and finger. I don't see why they didn't just find a different photo of him. He apparently stopped smoking sometime in the 1950s and didn't die until the 1980s.
My blog is apparently worth $2,000+
Word of the day: Abecedary
- Noun. (Rare): A primer; the first principle or rudiment of anything. (open-dictionary.com)
- n. book arranged in alphabetical order; elementary text-book. abecedarian, n. member of 16th-century German Anabaptist sect who refused to learn to read. a. alphabetically arranged. (Dictionary of Difficult Words)
- Main Entry: 1abeÂ·ceÂ·darÂ·iÂ·an
Etymology: Middle English abecedary, from Medieval Latin abecedarium alphabet, from Late Latin, neuter of abecedarius of the alphabet, from the letters a + b + c + d: one learning the rudiments of something (as the alphabet) (Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary)
Abecedarian \A`be*ce*da"ri*an\, Abecedary \A`be*ce"da*ry\, a. Pertaining to, or formed by, the letters of the alphabet; alphabetic; hence, rudimentary.
Abecedarian psalms, hymns, etc., compositions in which (like the 119th psalm in Hebrew) distinct portions or verses commence with successive letters of the alphabet. --Hook. (Dictionary.com)
Israel trip wrap-up
Since I last wrote from Jerusalem on Friday afternoon, I:
- met up with a friend who met a woman, dated her, and married her since my last trip to Israel fifteen months ago (she was delightful and it was terrific to see him so happy)
- observed Sukkot with family and friends
- met some distant cousins (who have a dairy farm in the Galil!)
- went hiking in Nachal Amud
- went to Tzfat
- returned to Jerusalem
- had a scrumptious breakfast with a former coworker in a sukkah at Cafe Atara
- saw friends who had a baby five weeks previous (what timing!)
- and saw a wonderful exhibit at the Israel Museum, called "From Rome to Jerusalem." (FYI: I don't think this last link will work once the exhibit closes.)
Anyway, so you know how I said that my life looked like this before I got to Israel?
Accepted new job, feverishly cleaned room for subletter, feverishly packed, had bittersweet last day at old job, took overnight flight to Athens, saw Jewish Museum, Acropolis, and National Archaeological Museum, took 2 am flight to Israel, crashed with family...Well, my departure looked like this: Observed Shabbat, packed, showered, went out for a "toast" and chocolate milk with my sister, packed some more, wasted time, packed, slept one and a half hours, took taxi to airport, checked out new duty-free area while waiting for 6 am flight to plane (is "plane" the opposite of "deplane"? is "deplane" even a word? I see to recall hearing it from flight attendants. Took off. Arrived in Athens airport. Walked around for a few hours, sat and read, walked around some more. Bought Lindt chocolate. (Yum!) Got onto plane to New York. Sat between largish man and aisle. Across the aisle was a very talkative woman. I learned all about her life. Slept four hours. Audio on the TVs wasn't working, so watched and heard part of Hitch (entertaining enough for a ten hour plane trip), and then watched the whole thing again once the audio was back on. Ate the most nasty meals possible. (These "extra long life" meals from some godforsaken place in Europe--like mushy, freeze-dried, reconstituted, I don't know what. Turkey, tuna, cake in a nasty pudding thing.) Arrived in New York. Took Supershuttle home. Went to bed. Got up. Showered. Unpacked. Went to first day of work at new job!
Whew... Since then, I've been working almost nonstop on non-Shabbat days and I hosted a meal on Shabbat. The new job is good. Very good. More on that, perhaps, another time.
Thanks for tuning in to the non-stop exciting adventures of ALG!
Blogging from Jerusalem
Brief summary of events of past few weeks: Accepted new job, feverishly cleaned room for subletter, feverishly packed, had bittersweet last day at old job, took overnight flight to Athens, saw Jewish Museum, Acropolis, and National Archaeological Museum, took 2 am flight to Israel, crashed with family, observed Yom Kippur. Now, Shabbat in Jerusalem. After that? Who knows!
If you want details about the change of job, feel free to e-mail me and if I know you, I may divulge.
I will likely write about Athens and Israel in more detail at some later point. Thus far, my Hebrew does not seem to have atrophied as terribly as it usually does between trips.
Because we are your flock
Labels: Torah (broadly defined)
It was Like a Dream
Athens was like a dream. Seriously! I got on an airplane at around 5:45 pm on Sunday in New York, and got off around 11 am in Athens, Greece. I only slept three or four hours on the plane, I think. For one thing, they kept serving meals. Also, I just couldn't sleep. Even though I had two seats to myself, which is unheard of on most NY-Israel flights. (I guess Athens is a less popular destination, or I usually travel closer to the summer when there are more tourists.) From 11 am until around 10 pm, I did a whole bunch of cool stuff in Athens with my father, and then we got onto another airplane and flew to Israel.
After my father picked me up at the airport and we took the very nice commuter rail thing into Athens, we went to the Jewish Museum of Greece. It was very small, but nice. I learned a little bit about the history of the various Jewish communities in Greece (Athens, Salonika, Ioannina, and other places). The thing that I learned the most about, which I had known the least about before, was the Greek response to the Holocaust. Greece was the only country besides Denmark that did anything to try to stop the wholesale slaughter of Jews by the Nazis. In particular, there was one clergy member in Greece who spoke out against the Holocaust--I believe that he was the only Christian clergy member to do so. I'm sorry that I don't remember his name. I will try to look it up when I have more time and will edit this, or blog about it again.
Then we went to the Acropolis, where we saw the Temple of Athena Nike (about and photos--not mine, which haven't been developed yet), the Propylaia, and a few other assorted temples and things, as well as the Parthenon. The Parthenon was pretty impressive, despite being covered with scaffolding. Actually, the whole Acropolis was kind of impressive. It was huge. It was on a big hill in the middle of Athens and overlooking it. The museum there was also nice.
After that, we went to the National Archaeological Museum of Athens, which had been redone since my father last visited in 1970. I enjoyed both museums, but the main thing I felt was joy that I do not live in ancient Greece. Given the theological problems I sometimes have with Judaism, which I largely believe to be a logical, smart, and good religion, imagine the problems I would have had with the ancient Greek gods! It was bad enough trying to sort out who was who in all of the statues in the museums...
After dinner with a friend of my father's from college and his wife, we went back to the airport. I couldn't really sleep in the airport until our 2 am flight, so I sat in a dazed stupor until we boarded the plane. Then I slept a bit, then we got to Israel! Then I finally went to bed, after saying "hi" to my sister, who was already up and about at 5 am, on her way to her army service.
Phew! So, really, it was like a dream. I can't believe I did all that stuff on so little sleep, and I can't believe I remember so much of it. It was really crazy--sightseeing in Greece sandwiched between two nights of very little sleep. If I did it again with another city (Rome? I'd love to see Rome), I think I would probably try to stay over for a night or two.
Another Rosh Hashanah drash
I went to shacharit yesterday morning in honor of the Fast of Gedalia and, in some strange way, because I felt bad for being such a massively unfocused davener on Rosh Hashanah, to the point of missing communal shacharit and Torah reading and nodding off during musaf both mornings. Shacharit yesterday morning was lovely. I made it in time to say one regular piyut of selichot with the congregation, and managed to stay through Torah reading. I am bone-tired today, though, and may have to sleep through Shabbat to make up for it. It's always a trade-off, isn't it?
Rosh Hashanah drash
This is from Nafka Mina, whose blog I sometimes read. I really liked it. It resonated.
Shana tova umituka! May you be inscribed for a sweet, fulfilling, healthy, and happy year. (Or if not happy, at least growth-oriented.)
Source of Lulavim
Sukkot [Tabernacles?] is mostly an agricultural, Land of Israel-based holiday, I think, unlike Pesach, for which I think the historic event of the Exodus is the main focus. But there are those historical, "camping in the dessert on the way out of Egypt" and "cloud of God over our heads in the dessert on the way out of Egypt" things for Sukkot, too. The Egypt connection is what I think is ironic about lulavim coming from Egypt now. At least a little. Plus the Israel-based agricultural stuff, too, I guess, but that, less so.
I feel like I'm slowly losing my grasp of the English language. Chaval.
"Why Girls are Bored with Math"
"Attack of the Listless Lads"
I don't have that much original to say about it, although I found it interesting. I disagree with some of the main points of the article, but think that some of what it says is very true. Also, I recognize that my disagreement may be born of the sub-culture that I live in (basically, 20- and 30-something Upper West Siders affiliated with Jewish prayer communities). (Sorry for ending with a preposition. It's been that kind of day.)
Here are some letters (published in Salon) generated by the article.
Other bloggers react:
Is Church More Fun than Shul?
I thought it was an interesting article. I especially liked this bit:
My interactions with God, while I often see them as formulaic, always have underlying themes of hope and redemption. The desire for true repentance, an integral part of our religion, motivates my prayers. It’s a personal experience.
And, truth be told, it’s not the house of worship but the worship itself that brings people closer to God. No matter how mesmerizing a minister (or dull in this case), his minions move towards a more religious life because of their own faith, their own inner dialogue with God, in whatever shape that takes.
I went to church once, mostly because I was curious and it was so convenient. I kind of liked it, although possibly only because it was different than shul. I really liked the singing. It was excellent. I also enjoyed the decorum of the congregation, and the church itself was very pretty and light inside. And I liked reading the plaques on the wall, especially the one that was related to the thesis that I was writing at the time.
Anyway, the article is interesting on several levels, although I thought it was a bit too long. Thanks to Esther for pointing it out.
And the meal, in the end, was fine. The lasagne wasn't as sour as I had feared. I'm not sure why, but it came out okay. Not my finest effort yet, but passable. The company, however, was excellent!
What I Learned Today
Did you know that lasagna can also be spelled lasagne? For years I thought it was spelled lasagne and then whenever I checked, it seemed that lasagna was the correct spelling. So the third thing I learned tonight is that it can, indeed, be spelled lasagna or lasagne.
One other thing I learned tonight: If you put too much in the dish drainer, and the window is open, your good milchig pot will fly right out that window and down to the ground. And because of the side of the building you are on, it won't go all the way down to the basement level, where you could exit near the laundry room and retrieve it. No. It will go down to the upper level of the inner courtyard, and when you ask the doorman if he can help you retrieve it, and have difficulty communicating with him (how do you say "my pot fell out the window" in Spanish? all he understood was window and he came up to the apartment and shut the window in the steaming hot kitchen and the window fell of its track and he couldn't put it back), and not be able to get the pot back at all. It was a nice pot. May it rest in peace.
In the ridiculous lingo that I am sometimes, unfortunately, exposed to, "There were four learnings tonight." Three pretty negative ones and one neutral one (that would be the proper spelling of lasagne/lasagna).
A New Brand of Disaffected Youth
"Among the Believers"
By A.O. SCOTT
Published: September 11, 2005
Benjamin Kunkel's first novel, Indecision, published last month, concerns a young man living in Manhattan and trying, as the title suggests, to figure out what to do with his life. He has a B.A. in philosophy and an active, if confusing, romantic life; he gets by on a combination of office work and parental subsidy. In his author's affectionate estimation, offered over a beer on a recent evening at a Brooklyn bar, this young man, whose name is Dwight Wilmerding, is "kind of an idiot." Perhaps, but he may also be - the critical response to "Indecision" suggests as much - an especially representative kind of idiot. His plight, after all, is - for people of his age and background - a familiar one: an alienation from his own experience brought about by too much knowledge, too many easy, inconsequential choices, too much self-consciousness. Bred in a culture consecrated to the entitled primacy of the individual, he discovers that he lacks a self, a coherent identity, maybe a soul. He feels that he could be anyone. "It wasn't very unusual for me to lie awake at night," he confesses, "feeling like a scrap of sociology blown into its designated corner of the world. But knowing the cliches are cliches doesn't help you to escape them. You still have to go on experiencing your experience as if no one else has ever done it."
Of course, one aspect of that experience is the impulse to rebel against it - the desire to rescue thought, feeling and ambition from the quotation marks that seem perpetually affixed to them, to recover the possibility of earnest emotion, ethical commitment and serious thought. That desire can find any number of outlets, one of which might be - why not? - starting a literary journal, a small magazine.
No, no, I'm not starting a literary magazine or anything. But the article was interesting. People around my age who are over-educated and not sure what to do with their lives. Maybe it's wrong to use the term "over-educated." Maybe nobody can be over-educated, especially just with a measly BA. But it does seem, at 26, that life ought to have more overarching purpose or meaning than mine seems to. Not that I think that a BA gives life any kind of overarching purpose or meaning. Maybe, as some have suggested, it's just a matter of doing and seeing more, and then things will become clearer. Maybe it's too much to expect any kind of clarity at 26. But some people seem to have it...!
1.) For one, of course, the fact that a woman can be "the Man" might not be self-evident. But, of course, a woman can.
2.) Secondly, how would our understanding of this phrase change if it was, instead, "She's the Woman!" or, perhaps more interestingly, "He's the Woman!"? If you think that sexism is dead, consider this last question fairfully. Any and all answers are welcome, of course, from all three of my readers.
3.) Thirdly, I found it interesting that someone a bit older than average would use this expression. Now, this somewhat-older-than-average coworker is generally quite with-it, and I think that this is particularly true linguistically. (This, unlike some people, whose aquisition of slang seems to have stopped when they were in their 20s, whatever decade that was.) But I still found it interesting, and wondered when that expression became common. Anyone know? Or have access to a reliable idiomatic dictionary?
Having had my second live baseball-viewing tutorial this year, I may begin to understand the game. Thank God. It's a good thing that I moved to NYC in August 2003, or I might never have discovered the fun of baseball at all! (I could not, in good conscience, be a Bostoner living in New York in 2003 or 2004 and not follow baseball, at least once the regular season ended.) (Apologies to AS, for all my scoffing in high school and after when he rhapsodied on and on about the wonder of baseball and I said it was boring and stupid. I was at least partly wrong.) Although I imagine it depends a lot on who you go to the game with. Like, I don't think it would be any fun to go with someone stupid or drunk, or with a Yankees fan. I'm sure there are lots of other people with whom it would not be fun to attend a baseball game.
Enough rambling for now. To all a good night! (The garbage truck pulls up under my window in a little over an hour, and I'd like to be fast asleep before it comes. Otherwise, it sometimes keeps me awake. Ah, the joys of New York! And--can you believe it--they were shouting "Boston sucks!" at the game! I never had my sleep stolen from me by garbage trucks in the Greater Boston area--I can't speak first-hand about Boston proper.)
Labels: New York
What I Did Last Night
In other news, I found my keys today. They had gone into hiding for several months, and I had, in the meantime, made copies from other people's keys, but it was still nice to find them. (I knew they were in my apartment, since the last time I used them was to let myself into the apartment.) The key-finding is part of a larger operation to clean my room and file lots and lots of papers. I think that I may be keeping too many papers, but I don't know what to throw out. Thoughts, anyone? Paid cell phone bills? Paid cable-modem bills? The same from last year? I feel like I must have paid bills going back several years, along with credit card statements, bank statements, receipts, etc. I can probably toss most of it. Or maybe I should toss the box of old New Yorkers that I never read. Or I can toss all of it! After the papers are more or less sorted out, I plan on finally going through all of the boxes of miscellaneous things that I haven't unpacked since I last moved. (Don't ask when that was. It was awhile ago.)
Also, today is the second day of Rosh Chodesh Elul, aka 1 Elul. I don't feel spiritually ready for Elul at all. I kind of wish we could skip it and Tishrei this year. What are the odds?
A Lament for New Orleans
A Lament for New Orleans*
Oh, how she sits in solitude.
The city that teemed with people has become like a widow.
She that was great among the nations, the princess among provinces, has become a tributary.
She weeps bitterly in the night, and her tear is on her cheek . . .
*with thanks to the prophet Jeremiah, who put it better than I ever could.
Before this happened, I don't think I could have comprehended what the destruction of an entire city meant. I can't believe that everything can be taken away from so many people, so quickly. (Of course, this is the voice of privilege, from my perch in middle class America. In many places in the world, everything is taken away quickly.) And, like Moxie, I don't understand why people are still without food and water. Why did it take four days for National Guard trucks to arrive with supplies? I am aghast. And sad.
Grading the World's Flags
Vintage drug ads
Moonshine and Sunshine
But last night, it really was the moon! It had a face! Unless the across-the-street neighbors put a face on their living room light, it was the actual moon! This is very exciting because there is only a small piece of the sky visible from my bedroom window, and the moon is usually not in that part of the sky when I am going to sleep.
And the sun. How could I, in New York, ever see the sun? And during working hours! Here's how: At certain times of year, the sun reflects of the shiny high-rise buildings across from my office, straight into my window. (Yes, I am lucky and grateful to have an office window, although all I see out of it are the windows on the building across the street.) Anyway, this week has been one of those times. It's not reflecting off the building directly opposite my office, so it's kind of, well, diluted sunlight, but it is sunlight nonetheless! I think it might reflect into my office more directly in the winter. I will let you know.
Health insurance in America, or lack thereof
THE MORAL-HAZARD MYTH
The bad idea behind our failed health-care system.
by MALCOLM GLADWELL
- “Almost every time we asked interviewees [people without health insurance] what their first priority would be if the president established universal health coverage tomorrow,” Sered and Fernandopulle write, “the immediate answer was ‘my teeth.’ ”
- The leading cause of personal bankruptcy in the United States is unpaid medical bills....Children without health insurance are less likely to receive medical attention for serious injuries, for recurrent ear infections, or for asthma. Lung-cancer patients without insurance are less likely to receive surgery, chemotherapy, or radiation treatment. Heart-attack victims without health insurance are less likely to receive angioplasty. People with pneumonia who don’t have health insurance are less likely to receive X rays or consultations. The death rate in any given year for someone without health insurance is twenty-five per cent higher than for someone with insurance.
- Americans spend $5,267 per capita on health care every year, almost two and half times the industrialized world’s median of $2,193; the extra spending comes to hundreds of billions of dollars a year....Americans have fewer doctors per capita than most Western countries. We go to the doctor less than people in other Western countries. We get admitted to the hospital less frequently than people in other Western countries. We are less satisfied with our health care than our counterparts in other countries. American life expectancy is lower than the Western average. Childhood-immunization rates in the United States are lower than average. Infant-mortality rates are in the nineteenth percentile of industrialized nations....Nor is our system more efficient. The United States spends more than a thousand dollars per capita per year—or close to four hundred billion dollars—on health-care-related paperwork and administration, whereas Canada, for example, spends only about three hundred dollars per capita. And, of course, every other country in the industrialized world insures all its citizens; despite those extra hundreds of billions of dollars we spend each year, we leave forty-five million people without any insurance.
- At the center of the Bush Administration’s plan to address the health-insurance mess are Health Savings Accounts, and Health Savings Accounts are exactly what you would come up with if you were concerned, above all else, with minimizing moral hazard. The logic behind them was laid out in the 2004 Economic Report of the President....The report continues, “Researchers believe that as many as one-quarter of those without health insurance had coverage available through an employer but declined the coverage. . . . Still others may remain uninsured because they are young and healthy and do not see the need for insurance.” In other words, those with health insurance are overinsured and their behavior is distorted by moral hazard. Those without health insurance use their own money to make decisions about insurance based on an assessment of their needs. The insured are wasteful. The uninsured are prudent. So what’s the solution? Make the insured a little bit more like the uninsured.
- The country described in the President’s report is a very different place from the country described in “Uninsured in America.” Sered and Fernandopulle look at the billions we spend on medical care and wonder why Americans have so little insurance. The President’s report considers the same situation and worries that we have too much. Sered and Fernandopulle see the lack of insurance as a problem of poverty; a third of the uninsured, after all, have incomes below the federal poverty line. In the section on the uninsured in the President’s report, the word “poverty” is never used. In the Administration’s view, people are offered insurance but “decline the coverage” as “a matter of choice.”
- The issue about what to do with the health-care system is sometimes presented as a technical argument about the merits of one kind of coverage over another or as an ideological argument about socialized versus private medicine. It is, instead, about a few very simple questions. Do you think that this kind of redistribution of risk is a good idea? Do you think that people whose genes predispose them to depression or cancer, or whose poverty complicates asthma or diabetes, or who get hit by a drunk driver, or who have to keep their mouths closed because their teeth are rotting ought to bear a greater share of the costs of their health care than those of us who are lucky enough to escape such misfortunes? In the rest of the industrialized world, it is assumed that the more equally and widely the burdens of illness are shared, the better off the population as a whole is likely to be. The reason the United States has forty-five million people without coverage is that its health-care policy is in the hands of people who disagree, and who regard health insurance not as the solution but as the problem.