Gone, Gone, Gone…with Obamacare

ben franklin
If you need help.  Your hope dangling by a string.  I will share in your suffering to make you well.  -P.Phillips

Sometimes, it is less difficult to connect the dots to the actions we must take, as to not offend, someone.  As it does to, offend.  I believe it is a personal mythical goal of mine, to upset as many persons, as possible, before my time is through.  Either here on earth, or down in the, oh, so wonderful, balmy, weather, of hell.

At first, my inclination, with Obamacare, would take aim, with pen and paper and keyboard, at, republican woman.  I wanted to know such things as:

Don’t we share the same reproductive organs?

Is it okay for Sally to give birth to a child at the age of 12?  That is, knowing that, Sally had been raped by her father.  Her father, who is a well known, crack addict and I.V., drug user?

Should I, and many female artists I know, not be paid the same wage for the same job?

Should I have to worry, along with finances, heat, food on the table and taking care of my disabled spouse, about medical benefits, that are due to my wife?



What gives?  I paid into the system for over 35 years.  Social Security is not a privilege!  It’s my money!  Isn’t it?

After much consideration,

I decided that narrowing my editorial to just ‘evangelic, over zealous, white, upper middle class, women, would be an injustice.

Is Obamacare flawed?

Yes, indeed.  As is most, historical, unprecedented, government outreaches, are!  Should we attempt to fix an ailing but still quite, prolific, an workable, united health care system?

Shit, yes, we should.

Without much thought, I can count on at least one hand, families, that have benefited from a Universal Health care.  Families that were given the shit end of the shitty stick, just by being born.  Couples, individuals, and alike, who by simple proxy and alignment of the stars, have yet to pass GO and collect $200.

This is neither their fault, nor the fault of their up bringing.  They live in houses where heat is purchased at the local convenience store, at $10, at shot.  They cloth their children with other’s passed by clothing.  They sell family heirlooms, collectibles, and what not, to get thru winter.  Only to see that the beat up old Cavalier will not pass inspection in the spring.

Okay, JEB, Mr. Chris (I need a diet) Christie and/or the a sundry of other republicans, what do you purpose we do?  Take that cancer treatment away?  Cancer treatment that a friend needed but most likely would have not received.  Had it not been for mandated health care.

These are obvious flaws in the republican’s attempt at making nice nice with those who HAVE!  Honestly, they could care less about the have not’s!

So, I will attempt to spin this another way:

Coming up on Groundhog Day, 2016, I hope to have achieved something, my mother never thought possible.  I will, with the grace of a Higher Power, have 15 years of sobriety.

To put it bluntly,

“I woke up one day.  Saw my fucked up looking shadow…and, knew, I needed to quit drinking!”

We are in the midst of not only an epidemic of violence that far out reaches anything I witnessed as a child in the 70’s.  We are also, knee deep and in the thick of it, becoming a nation dependent on Heroin.

Back in the day, you could check in and promise to…pay it forward or pay it back, bit by bit, at rehabs.  That is before, rehabs became the trending topic of conversation.

It should also be noted, that when attending meetings, N.A. and/or A.A., it is typical to see, a housewife, a business person, a public official, etc.

I’m not great at math.  That is why I went into writing and psychology.  But, with that said;  how the hell do we take care of the growing number of addicts?  Who pays for their room and board?  Rehab and mental health counseling does not grow on trees.  And, even if it did, someone would have to pay for those trees!

It is obvious that to combat the on going crisis of addiction in this country, we must provide, healthcare coverage.  It is also evident that the way to stop addiction is by education.  I do not see removal of a Universal Healthcare coverage…as alleviating that issue.


 “My insurance will pay my primary care doctor more for a 10-minute appointment for the flu than it will allow my psychiatrist for an hour-long treatment session. For this reason, my own psychiatrist, along with many others, no longer accepts insurance.”

The situation is not good. In fact, it’s dire in a country where nearly 20 million Americans struggle with substance abuse and 42.5 million adults live with some form of mental illness, according to a Mental Health America report released in November 2014.


This kind of situation should be rectified.  Not eliminated altogether.  In America, these days, it seems we provide the race, give you the sneakers in which to run in, but if you aren’t pass the halfway mark in record time…you become, eliminated.  In more ways than one.freedom

Addicted to the Groundhog

Freedom minus fear = FAITH
Freedom minus fear = FAITH

Mr. Bill,

When I had been nine years old my mother took me to the pediatrician.

‘Doctor, I think she has a drinking problem!’

Had been my mother’s cry for help.

I remember the day vaguely. I remember my youth in bits and spurts. And, I remember a family torn apart by a single substance.

I realize most persons turn off immediately…when they hear the words; alcoholism, addiction, recovery and worse of all, the Big Book!

I shut down, as well, when in the grips of something beyond a brown bottle in a brown bag surrounded by a brown spiritual tunnel.

I can only best describe my addiction with one story. One or two short sentences that could pretty much sum up the some of my life…that taints me still.

I had been driving home from a nightclub called, the Ramrod. And, yes, let’s just assume, it was a hardcore gay bar. Somehow or another…I found myself, along with two other budding drunks, unable to get out of a traffic circle in York Maine.

Literally, I had been so blitzed, so far gone…I had been driving a large piece of deadly machinery…in a dream…in a blackout.

‘Sometimes the lights all shining on me…

Other times I can barely see…’

Yeah, I had been a Dead Head and damn proud of it.

Eventually, the York P.D., saw of my dilemma and offered a free room for the night, that happened to come with it’s own bars!

So many other stories could follow. So many tales of…Whoa, it’s Me...So many times I could not lift stop the early morning shakes without lifting a shot of Vodka first!

Yet, I come to write this letter today…not in homage to Dr. Bob, Bill Wilson and/or Alcoholic’s Anonymous.

I write…today…which is something I had only hoped to do…in the midst of addiction.

Fourteen years ago, give or take, my own personal Groundhog came out and saw the Shadow. A gloomy chaperon that had been twenty years in the making. A dark lumbering presence that took hold of my soul which once had shone a myriad of colors and shook it out a damp, absorbent spiritual pitch black.

I do not preach A.A., from the rooftops of barren and antiquated churches. No, I tend to steer clear of lack of moderation soapbox lecterns.

I do, however, write the right, talk the talk and practice, daily, what is easier to understand…

Bill, I have found that I have faith. Silly, as it sounds, I believe in believing.

Even, you, Bill, a practicing Buddhist, would agree…

‘We live in an imperfect world. Both physically and spiritually! A simple world of mishaps designed for persons that over complicate it!’

Therefore, my sobriety is a gift…Yet, the biggest gift? A peace of mind. And, that is a behavior we can all impart on others.

Thirty five some odd years ago…when my mother grasped at the metaphysical broken straw of anticipation…the physician only had this to say:

Oh, she’s just going through a growing stage.’

I had been at the age where playing with G.I. Joe dolls were the par. Not breaking into the liquor cabinet and mixing Yukon Jack with grape juice!

This past week, I nearly lost my mother to her Higher Power. Yet, the difficulty came from another world. An unexplored realm that had placed itself uneasily in the attic of my horrid past.

I faced a demon…aptly named, my father and found the serenity to help him through the trauma of nearly loosing his one and only love of fifty years. Without overt detail. This man, this paternal figure and this blurred spot of anger, became my responsibility.

The shallow breathing and the hallowed feelings of displaced musing consumed my entire body. Everyday I traveled the twenty miles with a need aching from within. I rode with my passenger, hate, strapped in with pride.

Bill, what can I say? Who can I thank? Where did I go? And, how did I maintain?

I simply gave up. I simply gave in.

It had not been easy. I scratched and clawed at the bark of the trees set in serenity amongst the country roads. I walked and hiked with four legged friends into the woods. I strolled out with a sense of faith stronger than before.

My meditation had been easy enough

...help me to be a better persons today than I was yesterday…

And, please help to keep all creatures

great and small safe and far from harm

to the best of their ability…

Oddly enough, a larger than life, Snow Owl, had flow before me, quietly leading the way. My faith had found it’s wings. It had been found without my will. It, FAITH, had been placed there by someone greater than me.

Peace Out-


Excerpt from As Bill Sees It

The achievement of freedom from fear is a lifetime undertaking, one that can never be wholly completed. When under heavy attack, acute illness, or in other conditions of serious insecurity, we shall all react to this emotion- well or badly, as the case maybe. Only the self-deceived will claim perfect freedom from fear.

Bill W.

by special virtue alone every road leads back to another
by special virtue alone every road leads back to another