Site Presented By
Tuesday, Nov 10, 2009
Dec 1, 2003 | That Christmas the one thing Ruthie Parker wanted more than anything else was what every kid in the neighborhood of Lower Middle Brackett dreamed of -- comprehensive health insurance.
"Oh, Ruthie," said Mrs. Parker at the breakfast table, her eyes twinkling in amusement. "Don't you remember what happened to your cousin Ralphie last Christmas?"
"Of course I do," Ruthie said. "He finally got that Red Ryder BB gun he'd always wanted. "
"Ah, but then what happened?" asked Mrs. Parker. "He put his eye out, that's what, and there wasn't a darn thing his parents could do about it. How many times do I have to tell you? For 43 million of us, there is no such thing as health insurance. Not even catastrophic." She tousled her daughter's hair and gazed in wonderment as it floated down to the kitchen floor in great drifts, like snow.
"But Bobby Brady's family has health insurance," said Ruthie, as her father rummaged through the kitchen drawers to find the glue stick.
"Yes, but Bobby's family is rich," Mr. Parker said, as he hastily reattached clumps of hair to Ruthie's skull. "Besides, they're all fit as fiddles, so they really don't need to use their policy. Why, if one of 'em got so much as a paper cut, the insurers would kick them out in no time."
"But Kimberly at school told me that her family has health insurance. She says her daddy got it for them."
"Her daddy?" asked Mrs. Parker, eyes widening. "I didn't even know Kimberly had a daddy, did you, honey?"
"I've heard rumors," said Mr. Parker, "but no one's actually ever seen him."
"That's because Kimberly's daddy works three jobs," Ruthie explained. "See, for a while he and Kimberly's mommy were doing fine with just one job for him and two for her. But Kimberly's mommy didn't qualify for benefits because she only worked 30 hours a week at each of her two jobs. Then the company Kimberly's daddy worked for charged him more for his own benefits and stopped offering a discount for his wife and kids. So he got a second job to pay for their insurance, but then the monthly rate jumped up from $300 a month to more than $900 and pretty soon it was costing them more than their mortgage. So now he just works all the time."
"Gee," Mr. Parker said. "He sure is lucky. Imagine finding three jobs in this economy. He must make at least 33 grand."
"I wish I could find another job," said Mrs. Parker dreamily, remembering the days when she earned almost $15,000 a year at the grocery store. But that was before the big strike. As reps for the supermarket chains had explained, when profits for the last five years alone hit $8 billion, what other choice did they have but to cap wages of new employees at $14.90 an hour, even after six years, and cut healthcare benefits by 50 percent, the better to dismantle them completely?
Just then Ruthie's little brother Randy limped into the room.
"Hey, there's my little ball of fire!" Mr. Parker greeted him, as he poured generic cornflakes into a bowl. "I know, I know -- nothing for you. Still having trouble swallowing, eh kid?"
"Now, Randy, bundle up before you stagger off to school," Mrs. Parker said. "You don't want that tumor getting cold. My, it's getting so big."
"Want me to drop you off, Randy boy?" Mr. Parker asked. "It's on my way to my new job at the cellphone company. Good thing I got that six-month contract after the old textile mill shut down and then--"
"And then you retrained for high tech, only it tanked--," recited Ruthie.
"And then you got hired by that big utilities conglomerate, and that went bye-bye--," Mrs. Parker joined in.
"Taking our life savings and leaving massive credit card debt," Ruthie added in a singsong voice. "Daddy, we've heard that story a hundred times before."
"Duh, you and millions of others," teased her father, as he looked at her fondly, using what remained of his peripheral vision. It helped to believe that as long as he did nothing about it, his macular degeneration might eventually go away.
"Hey, did I tell you?" he piped up, eager to provide his family with an atmosphere of forced cheer. "I just found out my company's going international! It's all very hush-hush, but yesterday I heard the owners telling my manager that my entire department would soon feel the effects."
"That sounds promising," murmured Mrs. Parker.
"They even said something about offshore subsidies. Golly, I've always wanted to live at the beach. What do you say, kids? Want Santa to bring you some swim fins? How about you, little Rita?" he said to the youngest Parker, who had just appeared.
"All I wan' for Cwithmuth is my new fwont teef," said little Rita. "Or any teef."
"Sorry, punkin," Mrs. Parker said. "Malnutrition is a bitch, but you'll just have to suck it up like your big brother and sister. Isn't that right, Ruthie?"
"What? I couldn't hear you. Tell Randy to stop rattling his lungs so loud."
"Now, kids, remember my blood pressure -- oh, look who's here!" said Mrs. Parker.
"Grandma!" everybody shouted. "What brings you here on a weekday?"
