1695 Doctors As Seen on TV

One of our favorite heavy bags is Mehmet Oz. This bird has a rep as a master thoracic surgeon and has parlayed it into a professorship at an Ivy League college and a popular television show.

You can’t blame him, really.  Medicine, even thoracic surgery doesn’t pay as well as it used to, what with the harsh realities of Obamacare. So Oz spends a few days a week (probably three) taping his five day a week television show.

He’s handsome.  He’s warm and friendly. He’s the kind of guy you wish your daughter would marry.  He’s also a first magnitude huckster and the other day, he switched from miracle weight loss herbal supplements to political candidates.

Make that one political candidate, another world class huckster, Donald Trump. The two men laughed and joked their way through Trumps until- now secret medical report.

Hey, Ozzie… did you actually examine the patient? No? So how do you know whether any of the claptrap you were fed and then turned around and fed to your audience of hypochondriacs contained a molecule of truth?

You can prance and dance. You can offer theatrical- grade empathy, but you can’t know.  

At least CNN’s medical reporter, Sanjay Gupta, will admit he can’t perform diagnosis by television or telepathy.

Gupta is to neurosurgery as Oz is to thoracic.  Famous, professorial, accomplished, skilled with a scalpel and a pitch.

Then there’s Dr. Ian Smith.  He’s less well known but also skilled and personable. NBC and VH1 are his areas of expertise. But he too walks a fine line in the recommendation department.

(Aside: Dr. Smith, amiable and knowledgeable, is African American.  What kind of African American mother gives her son the name of one of the most vicious late-era white supremacists on the African continent?)

Doctor Drew is in a class by himself. He not only diagnoses through the ether albeit in the most cautious of terms, he does not restrict himself to his stated field of expertise, addiction.

And then there’s Doctor Phil.  He’s not an MD and therefore not restricted to stogy and restrictive medical ethics when he gives those picture in a minute psychological evaluations to his guests.

And he insists that his show is “only” entertainment.

Ask your own doctor a question like this:  Doc, my brother in law has been complaining of headaches. I should I give him Tylenol, Advil or an aspirin… or just put an ice pack on his head?

The only legitimate answer would be “I’d have to see the patient and his chart. I can’t diagnose or recommend anything without first putting him on the table, listening to his complaint, questioning him and examining him.”

Trolling for patients and a paycheck, you think?  Absolutely not.

So the next time you hear or see one of the tele-docs prescribing or almost prescribing for Donald Trump or anyone else, turn off the set or go back to watching “Fear Factor” or “The O’Reilly Factor” or something else you know in advance is fiction.

Paraphrase of the day:

-“He’s a disgrace.” -- Former soldier Colin Powell, (R- Banana Kelly) when asked about Donald Trump.

Shrapnel:

--Let’s hear it for people who know what they don’t know.  They are the least likely to tell you what to do and in what order.  And they’re the least likely to issue “shoulds,” “ought-as” and “have tos.”

--They’re building a bridge to nowhere in this neighborhood.  Wait… that’s not right, they’re building a bridge to a golf course.  Wait... that IS right.

--All those head injuries may mean an eventual end to football, a pretty dangerous “sport.” But soon they’ll connect golf and skin cancer.  Then maybe they’ll end that misuse of open land and exclusivity.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Please address comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2016

1694 The Bank Robs You

So, 55-hundred people walk into a bank, guns drawn and get away with millions.  Um… well, that’s not exactly the way it happened.  But Wells Fargo just paid $185 million in fines and is working to restore the actual amount its workers stole.

How does something like this happen?  Easy.

Say you’re the bank. First you spend all kinds of effort and money on market position. Hey! We’re the cuddly bank, just like in the old west where we’re headquartered.  Just mosey in and a friendly guy in a cowboy hat and a ‘49ers jersey will take care of you.

Except that’s just teller’s window dressing.  What’s the reality? Here are some of the bank’s autobiographical stats: Two trillion dollars in assets, profits $22.9 billion in 2015.  Employees: 265 thousand including the 5500 robbers who’ve been fired.  That’s close to General Electric’s head count and higher than GM’s.  

So it’s a big place.  And like many big places, most of the work gets done in boiler rooms and computer massifs.  And that’s where the real robbery took place.

Five thousand- plus people opening fake bank accounts for real existing customers, sending them valid credit cards and other accounts they didn’t apply for.  Letting them run up fees.

Apparently the boiler room and massif crowd received a dollop of cash for opening each new account.  So at least 55-hundred were getting extra money they worked for but didn’t earn.

Snoozing regulators awoke long enough to fine the bank. And Wells Fargo’s front office woke up long enough to fire the holdup men and women (surely there were women in on this unless there’s a glass ceiling in this kind of organized crime.)

This had been going on for awhile.  A customer sued them over it last year.  Now, all of a sudden this is big news.

Wall Street likes this stock.  Consistent profits, big name major stockholders like Berkshire Hathaway and Vanguard and State Street.  The three together own about 20% of the stock. “Tight ship” is a description one often hears.  And although it doesn’t look that way to the naked eye, it may be so.  

Part of the tightness may be the whipmasters whipping the people rowing until they go over the legal line to meet targets.  Could this be?  Here? In the capitalist paradise?

How about a committee of the 20%-ers to find out and fix this.

Note to CEO John Stumpf:  If you see Warren Buffett wandering around in the executive suite, worry.  And don’t stand near any windows on high floors.

Shrapnel:

--It’s no secret that Wells Fargo grew to elephantine size by buying competitors.  What many don’t know is that the trend started in its very first years. The founders owned American Express and formed WF in 1852, then bought out other stagecoach companies. Along the way, they gobbled up Crocker National Bank, First Interstate and Wachovia among others.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Please address comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2016

1693 There's Something About Hillary

Hillary Clinton has pneumonia. Add that to the list of things we hate her for.

Lucky break for the Clinton bashers. After all, the gas tank of other fake scandals is down to fumes.  When was the last time you even heard the word “Benghazi” in a hit piece?  How quickly we forget!

Whitewater, the Clinton Foundation, the emails, Vince Foster’s death, Hillarycare, the White House Travel Office… each has lost its luster.

But because it’s wrapped in medical speak, this opens a whole new kind of attack.  Instead of the nefarious doings of a money hungry former federal employee, the right wing can trot out torment wrapped in sympathy.

By the time you read this, some doctor in the pay of some PAC will have pontificated from your TV set that “Pneumonia is a dangerous affliction” and that for her own good, Mrs. Clinton should withdraw from the presidential campaign.

It isn’t. She shouldn’t.

Some tenured professor of “political science” will come next to say “It’s impossible for someone with this condition to maintain the pace required by a modern US president.”

Some right wing talking head will follow with “liberalism causes physical illness because of tension over stealing money from job creators and knowing ‘in her heart’ that she is wrong about… about everything.”

(Why is it that right wingers “know” with their hearts instead of their rational thoughts?) (That’s a rhetorical question.)

FDR served while his body was ravaged by the aftereffects of a crippling disease.

Eisenhower served with a heart that in today’s world would have put him on a transplant list. And he probably had IBD, inflammatory bowel disease.

Kennedy also had IBD and served with a back bad enough to put most of us in a wheelchair.

Nixon served while being treated for phlebitis.

Reagan served with the symptoms of early stage Alzheimer’s and the shock of a bullet wound.

George H.W. Bush served with Graves disease.

We worried.  But there was no thought of turning these men out of office -- at least not for health reasons.

But there’s something about Hillary that makes her illness further fodder for the tornado- like pounding she’s been subjected to throughout her public life.

Only in America do we elevate major felons into legends and heroes.  Capone, Gotti, Billy the Kid, Bernie Goetz each gets a pass while a slightly shady political character is maligned by the hour.

But there’s something about Hillary.

Grapeshot:

-If elected, Clinton will probably be a so-so president, of which we have had many… but the world won’t end.

-If she’s not elected, fasten your seatbelts and turn your assets into tangibles.

-If Clinton loses the popular vote but wins the election how will Republicans spin that while ignoring Bush v. Gore?

-This post is thinking about endorsing Rockford the Pitbull for president because he’s cuter than Clinton and smarter than Trump.

-Alternatively, does anyone have Pogo’s phone number or email address?

I’m Wes Richards.  My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Please address comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2016

1692 Naeem Aptera and 9/11

1692 Naeem Aptera and 9/11

On a cloudless late summer morning before dawn, Naeem Aptera arrived at work, set up shop for the day and then -- as always -- unrolled a small carpet on a Manhattan sidewalk, got down on her knees, put her forehead to the ground and prayed.

“Work” was running one of those street corner food carts that spring whole from the ground like mushrooms each weekday.  Coffee. Really good coffee and passable pastries, rolls and bagels.

That was the last day anyone saw her on that corner for about a year.  It was the eleventh of September, 2001 and three hours after she got back on her feet, rolled up the rug and made small talk in her Cairo-tinged English with customer after customer. Then, everything changed.

Of course she didn’t know that. She was too far uptown to know that people with names like hers had flown a pair of jetliners into the World Trade Center towers one and two.

The only act of war on American soil since Pearl Harbor had taken place about 20 minutes down the road at two of the ugliest structures ever erected by man, the twin towers of the World Trade Center.  Word of what happened that murderous and toxic Tuesday morning took awhile to make that 20 minute trip.

Naeem and her cart evaporated before noon.  But contrary to recent reports, she and dozens of other Arab Americans with jobs like hers were there.  There was no secret advanced notice as has sometimes been reported.  There was no Muslim underground that knew ahead of time about the attacks and warned away anyone.

We had a chance meeting on 55th in front of a mosque as 2001 turned into 2002 and there was fear in her eyes.  She didn’t want to be recognized.  She had added a face cover to her head scarf.

But it was unmistakably Naeem.  She was hesitant to talk. Was the bond between sidewalk chef and sidewalk customer broken?  No it wasn’t.  We scurried around the corner and when she was sure no one from the Islamic Center was watching, we hugged and cried.

She said her brother, Ahmed, “founder” of that corner wagon, had come with his battered Chevy truck and towed the cart back to home port in Astoria, Naeem riding shotgun.  The truck’s radio was broken.  They made the ride in ignorance and before the city closed the 59th St. Bridge to any but foot traffic.

“Once we found out what happened,” she said, “we were frightened.  We worried that everyone would look at us and blame us.”

Why, Naeem?  You have a solid alibi. So does Ahmed. “Don’t make joke! You know what I mean. Always the joke.”

“We prayed for the dead, she said.”  The look was not fear now, it was anguish.  How do you comfort someone who lives that, who carries that unnecessary burden?  If Allah won’t ease her pain, what can a mere mortal do?

Fifteen years now have passed.  The pain remains.  The deadly loss remains. The memories of the heroes -- the real heroes, cops, firefighters who died in their fruitless hunt for survivors remain.

But the pain is generous, unstinting.  It gives itself to Muslims like Naeem and Ahmed too.

So in the rush to honor or remember 9/11/01, in the hail of words and pictures we’ll soon see on the 15th anniversary, in the storm of tears and “where were you when’s” we can remember that it was a tragedy that affected all of us.  

Wes Richards

9/9/2016

Please address comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2016

1691 Why is Everything so Complicated?

Nothing is simple anymore.

Looked under your car’s hood?  What is all that stuff?  And where is that mystical deity of the Dodge or the mystical brain of the Buick -- the computer -- anyway?

It’s in there somewhere. Hiding.  Governing your every mile.  Constantly monitoring the status of your pollution level (with certain well documented exceptions.)

Like Santa Claus,

It knows when you are sleeping

Or badly changing lanes.

It knows if you’ve been bad or good

So be good to av-oid pains.

But it’s not just cars.  Try to wade through the jumble of blah-blah in your contract with the cable company. You say you have no contract?  Sure you do. It’s just called something else, usually “terms and conditions.”

Try to wade through the jumble of blah blah with your cell phone or internet provider.  Same thing.

Ever read a credit card’s fine print?  It’s designed to put you to sleep.  But don’t worry.  If you cross some imaginary line, the issuer will find a way to let you know and in no uncertain or inexpensive terms.

The simple act of writing a traffic summons in the age of high speed chases and high speed communications takes forever.  Great incentive for the cop to not meet his quota:  He has to check the entire country’s database to make sure there’s no bench warrant waiting for you because you spat illegally on a sidewalk six years 11 months and five days ago in Needles, California.  And you have to wait.

Phone “trees” almost all start out with “Our menu has changed…”  and then there’s nothing to do but wait while you fume over … what went wrong with your newly installed Windows 10 or to make an appointment with the dentist.

Even vending machines have gotten hard to use.  At one time you put in your penny, turned a knob and a piece of gum dropped down the slot for you.  Sometimes.

Now, you need an engineering degree to get a coke or a bag of peanuts.

At least your quest for an imprisoned Kit Kat Bar doesn’t make you wait and listen to 78 choices.  At least not yet.

Shrapnel:

--The president of the Philippines, Rodrigo Dirtbag, has apologized for calling President Obama an SOB. Actually, he was helping Obama by reminding him if he really were one, he would have gotten more done. And with fewer idiotic sandbagging from Congress.

--If you want to see a reality-twisting legal thriller have we got a deal for you!  The great mystery of who caused the New Jersey “Bridgegate” traffic jams is to be solved in court this week. Jury selection starts tomorrow … if enough potential jurors can get there in heavy traffic.

I’m Wes Richards.  My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Please address comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2016

1690 Joy Browne (1944-2016)

What distinguished Joy Browne most of all was she wasn’t nuts. A little kooky, maybe, but definitely sane unlike many of her fellow psychologists, especially some other radio shrinks.

As of this writing, we’re still waiting to learn what killed her at what today is not terribly old… 71. It was one of those out of the blue deaths discovered by her sister when their phone call disconnected.

Joy was a psychologist first and a radio personality second.  Caller after caller asked her about relationships, bad habits, the behavior of spouses, the behavior of children.

You get nervous when you call. You get flustered when you’re told “you’re next.” It makes you ramble and babble and tough to get to the point when you call a call-in shrink.  Joy had a firm but sympathetic way of getting her “patients” on point.  “Okay, cookie, you have troubles.  We all do.  But is there a question you’d like to ask?”  Or “What’s your question for me?”

She just kept at the callers until they abandoned their verbal selfies, long and winding explanations and got to the point.  It was good radio.

But it was also good therapy.  Joy never lost sight of the dictum that you couldn’t really treat a person on the phone.  But what you could do and what she did was put them on a useful path.

Relatively slim, she still managed to fill a room.  Authority without authoritarianism. Sympathy without fawning or judgment.  Graceful. Unpretentious.

In recent years, her program aired live from noon to 3 pm eastern. That put her in a head to head ratings competition with Rush Limbaugh and other right wing steam pipe explosions.  At last there was something useful on the air if you wanted to listen but not to some blowhard dissing President Obama, welfare cheats, and conspirators working to destroy America.

She also gave you the chance to realize that your problems were no worse than others’ which was therapy as one way street.

Circumstances change, but people usually don’t. So if her syndicator plans to keep airing her old shows, it probably can retain much of  the audience. Her advice was timeless, even though she wasn’t.

Rest in peace, Dr. Joy.  You did good.

Readers note: Dr. Joy and I started at WOR radio at about the same time. She was a delight to work with, an impressive intellect and she carried herself with dignity but not without humor.

Shrapnel:

--Continuing this most unpleasant theme we should mention the death this past weekend of Fred Hellerman, 89. Hellerman was the last surviving member of The Weavers, the quartet that drove the folk music revival of the 1950s.  Hellerman was the baritone whose voice blended with tenor Pete Seeger, Soprano Ronnie Gilbert and bass Lee Hays.

--Labor Day 2016 finds us still wondering where the unions went.  Organized labor was the key builder of America’s middle class.  And we’re also wondering where that went.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Please address comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2016

1689 We Are Little Green Space Invaders

What if the science fiction novels are wrong about invaders from space?

Here’s the plot of most of them:  Flying saucers land in New Jersey or Area 51 and fan out across America to either kill the earthlings or teach us the errors of our ways.

The fictional visitors come in two basic varieties.  The really sneaky ones look just like earth dwellers but have mystical superpowers.  The most oft-seen are odd looking creatures that look like land based octopi or viperfish with legs or little green men.

Stand this idea on its head and what do you have? You have earth’s humankind as the space invaders in their early stages of development.  

We have gone to the moon.  Pretty spectacular accomplishment.  But also not a long journey by space travel standards.

We’ve put mechanical gizmos on Mars.  And everyone knows that’s a test run for an eventual manned landing.  We’ve circled other planets with spacecraft.  Ever so slowly, we are reaching out to the rest of the solar system, first optically, then electronically and in recent decades mechanically.

Do you remember the newspaper comic strip, “Pogo” who once said “we have met the enemy and he is us?” Well, maybe we have met the invaders from outer space and they is us.

Younger planet Alpha 481 has been chugging right along at about a million years behind earth.  Homo erectus has been established as dominant species.  Fire and the wheel have been invented.

So in another million years or so it will be 1928 and Alpha 481-ers will be speculating about life on other worlds.  Meantime, present presidential and congressional elections notwithstanding, we have continued to evolve as well.  Because we started so much earlier, we are that much more advanced.

Here’s a truly scary thought: We are the advanced civilization planning to bring our wisdom and earthly imperialism to Saturn or Pluto, not the other way around.

Shrapnel (NY Times takes the same path that turned the Trib into road kill edition):

--According to its competitors the New York Times is sharply reducing its coverage of some aspects of the arts and the workings of nonprofit organizations. Earlier it announced that it was cutting back its coverage of local news like crimes and fires.  And they’re billing this as a realignment, not a reduction even though a fair number of people are being transferred from the newsroom to the unemployment line.

--Adjustment to the digital age, they say. More readers in Beijing than in New York Metro -- or something like that.  Striving to remain the newspaper of record… click… of record… click… of record.

Words that Scare:

Some responses to our request for additional words that scare :

-Sorry for the inconvenience.

-There will be a slight delay.

-Close cover before striking.

-I’m going to cook something simple.

-Slow Children.

-Any phrase with the word “byproduct” in it.

-(Husband asks wife what’s wrong, she answers): Nothing.

-(Husband asks wife for advice, she answers): do what you want.

I’m Wes Richards. My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Please address comments to wesrichards@gmail.com

© WJR 2016