Allow me to introduce you to "The Legend of Bob the DERF" - Catchy title, I know. But if you know what a DERF is (psst - it's a Data Element Request Form - the thing that is used by NCPDP (The National Council for Prescription Drug Programs - an ANSI (American National Standards Institute - they create standards for SDOs (Standards Development Organizations - the groups that make standards for things like how many threads are there on a fire hydrant intake valve or how do you send an electronic prescription message)) accredited SDO based in Scottsdale, AZ) to change their standards), you'll think this song is big fun. Otherwise, if you've ever done standards development work, you'll think it's amusing. Otherwise, if you're a fan of country western music, you'll say, "It has a good beat and I can dance to it - I'll give it an 86." Otherwise, you'll probably just scratch your head.
Anyway, I wrote this song for the NCPDP's annual conference and performed it in Phoenix, AZ. It was a big hit. But then, we're an odd bunch of folks, so I'm not sure you kids'll be hearing it on American Bandstand anytime soon.
Special thanks to Lee Ann Stember, President of NCPDP, for financing the recording of this song. The lovely and talented Eric Schwartz is responsible for any production value, instrumentation and decent background vocals you may hear. Samples of his work can be found at http://www.ericschwartz.com/. CAUTION! Eric has a tendency to use his awesome creative powers for evil – or at least a sort of mischief that tends toward the perverse. Those with sensitive dispositions should refrain from visiting this site. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…
One disclaimer: This song is a work of fiction. Any similarities of the characters portrayed in this recording to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Anyone who says otherwise is itchin’ fer a fight. (Got that Bob and Margaret?)
Download MP3
Way back a hunert years ago
In a desert land devoid of snow’
Fore Scottsdale started dottin’ any maps
Snake Oil Salesmen roamed the West
Pitchin’ potions from their treasure chests
And shaftin’ any sucker wearin’ chaps
There was one man who had a dream’
Bout raisin’ druggists’ self esteem
By protectin’ the apothecary’s turf
He saw that standards were the key
For improvin’ drugstore quality
That man was known by all as Bob the DERF
Now any tale worth bein’ told
Includes a woman, guns or gold
Our hero’s rival ponied up all three
Margaret was her given name
But winnin’ gunfights brought her fame
So the name “The Whacker” fit her to a tee
And ev’rytime The Whacker flashed her gold incisor in a grin
The undertaker knew he’d soon be callin’ next of kin
CHORUS:
Hoo-ee ’n’ Yippee-ki-ee
Before the NCPDP
Consensus was a notion seldom found
Hoo-ah ’n’ Yippee-ki-yaw
The fastest shot laid down the law
The other laid down six feet underground
Now The Whacker had her standards too
And had in mind just what to do
To make sure things got done by her own rule
She called on Bob the DERF and said,
“You lily-livered pudd’nhead
It’s my way or the highway, ya’ dang fool!”
She knew her taunts would be enough
To razz him so he’d call her bluff
He slammed his whiskey down as if on cue
“Well we’ll just see ’bout who’ll be number one
High noon, tomorrow – bring your gun
But I’d skip town tonight if I was you!”
The bookies laid odds eight-to-five
The Whacker’d make it through alive
Her dead-eye aim was known throughout the land
It’s true that Margaret had her chance
But once they started in to dance
The DERF felt sure he’d be the last to stand
And so they set the stage to see whose standards would prevail
One slinger’d see sweet victory – and one the gates of Hell
REPEAT CHORUS
The clock struck twelve – the wind was still
Too scared to see red rivers spill
And learn who’d bite the dust who’d survive
The two stepped out into the street
To face their fate at fifty feet
Then in a flash their pistols came alive
Bob the DERF’s resolve came through
His steady hand shot straight and true
A normal foe no doubt would have been dead
But one fact he failed to calculate –The Whacker stood at four-foot-eight
And so her Stetson flew clean off her head
The DERF’s luck went from bad to worse
Didn’t even have a chance to curse
As The Whacker’s dental work gleamed through her smile
Her single shot was on the mark
It pierced his heart – the sky went dark
Right there he fell into a bloody pile
And as he died, The Whacker cried, “Oh, help me, Lord above!
All in the name of standards, I’ve just killed my one true love!”
REPEAT CHORUS
She lay her pistol down and swore upon her golden tooth
Consensus now will be pursued in healthcare’s quest for truth
“No longer will our blood be shed for standards to be setWe’ll gather round and talk until a compromise is met”
So now you know just how we formed the NCPDP
And how this modern standards settin’ process came to be
And after endless hours of meetings why my eyes will glaze
I’m dreamin’ ’bout how things got done back in those glory days when…
REPEAT CHORUS
– © 2005 Ross D. Martin, MD, MHA
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Monday, March 21, 2005
This weekend, I won a no-limit Texas Hold'em tournament in my new neighborhood against 17 other gents having never played before. All I did was learn the basic rules, play a few hands online to learn the mechanics, and read some articles at www.learn-texas-holdem.com. The sections on understanding the psychology of the no limit games proved to be so on target that I walked home with a trophy and a wad of cash. I doubt I'll be able to repeat the feat and don't plan on quitting my day job to join the World Poker Tour, but it was sure interesting understanding what makes people tick in a particular situation. See the pics at www.leaguelineup.com/chipsandclubs. I'm sure there are some business lessons to glean from the experience - mostly about working hard to understand the personalities in one's work environment and using those insights in "Getting to Yes". But there are a lot fewer variables in a poker game than in life, so the analogies are bound to break down early.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Live Poet's Anxiety
Bob Edwards told us on NPR's Morning Edition today that a report published in the Journal of Death Studies says that poets die younger than novelists, playwrights and other writers. Click here for the story. The study's author, James Kaufman, speculates that the cause may be the poet's tendancy to be more tortured and therefore prone to self destruction. Au Contraire!
Live Poet’s Anxiety
Pray tell, if you will, for my mind cannot know it –
What leads to the early demise of the poet?
Enlighten my heavy heart, shackled in strife
Why penning pentameter shortens one’s life
The novelist, dolling out drivel in droves
Lives longer – thus happier, one must suppose
The dire statistics give proof to no reason
For sentencing bards to a much-shortened season
Too easy a knee-jerk to point to depression
The answer may be closer kin to recession
For poets may toil for days on one verse
While Harlequins fly off the shelves – How perverse!
Sadness may serve as the Grim Reaper’s alibi
Truth, though, is found in the cold math of ROI
Poets find life far too costly to cherish
Thus proving the old adage – Publish or Perish!
In terse prose: Money may not buy happiness, but it can buy Zoloft…
Live Poet’s Anxiety
Pray tell, if you will, for my mind cannot know it –
What leads to the early demise of the poet?
Enlighten my heavy heart, shackled in strife
Why penning pentameter shortens one’s life
The novelist, dolling out drivel in droves
Lives longer – thus happier, one must suppose
The dire statistics give proof to no reason
For sentencing bards to a much-shortened season
Too easy a knee-jerk to point to depression
The answer may be closer kin to recession
For poets may toil for days on one verse
While Harlequins fly off the shelves – How perverse!
Sadness may serve as the Grim Reaper’s alibi
Truth, though, is found in the cold math of ROI
Poets find life far too costly to cherish
Thus proving the old adage – Publish or Perish!
In terse prose: Money may not buy happiness, but it can buy Zoloft…
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
For the “You Heard it Here First” file: I have been working on electronic prescribing (eRx) standards for some time, but the recent signing into law of the Medicare Prescription Drug, Improvement and Modernization Act of 2003 (DIMA) has put these efforts into overdrive. It’s amazing to see how fast this is all moving now. Trouble is, no one talks about the fundamental problem with Medicare – the third rail that guarantees political suicide for anyone who whispers of it in Washington. Here goes:
The more successful we are in improving the quality of healthcare for seniors – even as we improve the efficiency and cost effectiveness of the delivery of that care – the more Medicare will cost.
Huh? Reducing costs will cost more? Yup. Ultimately, our quality efforts will be rewarded in the form of longer lives for seniors. These seniors will still need medical care as they live longer than they otherwise would have and who no longer pay the taxes that support the increasing costs incurred because we are doing the best possible job at caring for our elders. No matter how long you live, you always live the last six months of life where a huge portion of our lifetime healthcare costs are incurred. Truth is an inefficient, lousy healthcare system that encourages bad personal health behaviors is the only way we can afford Medicare in its current manifestation. Proof? I think it was Poland who did a study about smoking in their country. They concluded that smoking was good for the economy because citizens dutifully sickened and died at a cost-efficient age shortly after retirement.
Yes, it’s depressing but true. The problem is compounded by the fact that there is very little personal incentive for seniors to do anything but try and utilize the maximum possible healthcare resources for their own benefit. That’s certainly understandable – it’s human nature to take what is offered; people shouldn’t be expected to behave differently. The trick is to align incentives a la A Beautiful Mind-style game theory modeling.
So how do we fix Medicare? The answer can be found in an illustration from The Little Prince. Remember the picture about the snake who swallowed the elephant? Long snake with a big lump in the middle where the elephant is being slowly digested. Looks sort of like a hat. Remember yet? You can see a picture at http://theliterarylink.com/prince1.html
That’s pretty much the shape of the New Improved Medicare (NIM) I’m suggesting.
Here’s how it would work. Benefits in NIM begin at birth but are restricted to preventive services that focus on treatments that focus on long-term outcomes – vaccinations, screening, health monitoring, nutritional counseling, antihypertensives, lipid management drugs, basic physicals at 10-year intervals, etc. This is the front end of the snake. Private or publicly supported insurance for low income people would cover everything else pretty much as we do today. At 60 (not 65 like Plain Old Medicare – POL), the elephant part kicks in and seniors get the option to start a 27-year full-on benefit that covers everything – bypass, knee replacements, expensive chemotherapy – whatever is needed to address a person’s health issues. The benefit lasts for 27 years because 87 is about the average life expectancy for people in the US and 60+27=87 (but you had probably already figured that out already – sorry about that).
If the senior is healthy, though, he or she can opt to keep using the head-of-the-snake portion of the benefit and delay the 27-year benefit for as long as desired – typically until an expensive healthcare issue comes up. Then the elephant starts and lasts 27 years. After that, the tail kicks in. The tail is TLC – tender loving care that covers anything that a senior would need for good supportive or palliative care – pain management, nursing care, etc., but not “heroic efforts” or high-cost services. The senior could always pay for additional medical services using NIM-negotiated rates, but the elephant – the stuff that we all pay into and pay on behalf of the people ahead of us – is no longer covered by NIM.
One more thing – if the average benefit for the elephant portion is, say $7,000 per year for every senior (the current estimates for DIMA), then the typical 27-year spend per senior would be $189,000. If a senior gets through the elephant without spending, say, 80% of that total or $151,200, he or she gets to extend the elephant until reaching that 80% mark.
So let’s say we pass a law today that launches NIM in 15 years – 45 year olds can start thinking now about how they want to play the NIM game. Want to live to be 100? Start living healthy now and hold off on the elephant for as long as possible. Wouldn’t it be great to not even tap into the elephant until you’re 85? Think of how great that would be. You could stay on private insurance, which would be cheap because there’s no catastrophic coverage; that’s taken care of by the elephant and can be switched on at any time. If you’re worried about the tail or want to have long-term, major benefits, you can open a Medical Savings Account or purchase a supplemental insurance package early on – insurers would be able to work out the actuarial risks of this sort of plan pretty easily.
Seems simple enough, no? Let me know what you think at ross@rossmartinmd.com.
Just remember, you heard it here first…
The more successful we are in improving the quality of healthcare for seniors – even as we improve the efficiency and cost effectiveness of the delivery of that care – the more Medicare will cost.
Huh? Reducing costs will cost more? Yup. Ultimately, our quality efforts will be rewarded in the form of longer lives for seniors. These seniors will still need medical care as they live longer than they otherwise would have and who no longer pay the taxes that support the increasing costs incurred because we are doing the best possible job at caring for our elders. No matter how long you live, you always live the last six months of life where a huge portion of our lifetime healthcare costs are incurred. Truth is an inefficient, lousy healthcare system that encourages bad personal health behaviors is the only way we can afford Medicare in its current manifestation. Proof? I think it was Poland who did a study about smoking in their country. They concluded that smoking was good for the economy because citizens dutifully sickened and died at a cost-efficient age shortly after retirement.
Yes, it’s depressing but true. The problem is compounded by the fact that there is very little personal incentive for seniors to do anything but try and utilize the maximum possible healthcare resources for their own benefit. That’s certainly understandable – it’s human nature to take what is offered; people shouldn’t be expected to behave differently. The trick is to align incentives a la A Beautiful Mind-style game theory modeling.
So how do we fix Medicare? The answer can be found in an illustration from The Little Prince. Remember the picture about the snake who swallowed the elephant? Long snake with a big lump in the middle where the elephant is being slowly digested. Looks sort of like a hat. Remember yet? You can see a picture at http://theliterarylink.com/prince1.html
That’s pretty much the shape of the New Improved Medicare (NIM) I’m suggesting.
Here’s how it would work. Benefits in NIM begin at birth but are restricted to preventive services that focus on treatments that focus on long-term outcomes – vaccinations, screening, health monitoring, nutritional counseling, antihypertensives, lipid management drugs, basic physicals at 10-year intervals, etc. This is the front end of the snake. Private or publicly supported insurance for low income people would cover everything else pretty much as we do today. At 60 (not 65 like Plain Old Medicare – POL), the elephant part kicks in and seniors get the option to start a 27-year full-on benefit that covers everything – bypass, knee replacements, expensive chemotherapy – whatever is needed to address a person’s health issues. The benefit lasts for 27 years because 87 is about the average life expectancy for people in the US and 60+27=87 (but you had probably already figured that out already – sorry about that).
If the senior is healthy, though, he or she can opt to keep using the head-of-the-snake portion of the benefit and delay the 27-year benefit for as long as desired – typically until an expensive healthcare issue comes up. Then the elephant starts and lasts 27 years. After that, the tail kicks in. The tail is TLC – tender loving care that covers anything that a senior would need for good supportive or palliative care – pain management, nursing care, etc., but not “heroic efforts” or high-cost services. The senior could always pay for additional medical services using NIM-negotiated rates, but the elephant – the stuff that we all pay into and pay on behalf of the people ahead of us – is no longer covered by NIM.
One more thing – if the average benefit for the elephant portion is, say $7,000 per year for every senior (the current estimates for DIMA), then the typical 27-year spend per senior would be $189,000. If a senior gets through the elephant without spending, say, 80% of that total or $151,200, he or she gets to extend the elephant until reaching that 80% mark.
So let’s say we pass a law today that launches NIM in 15 years – 45 year olds can start thinking now about how they want to play the NIM game. Want to live to be 100? Start living healthy now and hold off on the elephant for as long as possible. Wouldn’t it be great to not even tap into the elephant until you’re 85? Think of how great that would be. You could stay on private insurance, which would be cheap because there’s no catastrophic coverage; that’s taken care of by the elephant and can be switched on at any time. If you’re worried about the tail or want to have long-term, major benefits, you can open a Medical Savings Account or purchase a supplemental insurance package early on – insurers would be able to work out the actuarial risks of this sort of plan pretty easily.
Seems simple enough, no? Let me know what you think at ross@rossmartinmd.com.
Just remember, you heard it here first…
Thursday, October 09, 2003
Here's a thought: Let's say you want to be known as the person who coined the phrase [put your original thought here]. How do you establish ownership of an original turn of phrase the way "telecosm" has been attributed to George Guilder or the dreaded "paradigm shift" to Thomas Kuhn? Would publishing to a Blog be sufficient? It beats paying the Writer's Guild of America ten bucks to register something - only to have it last for 10 years before they pitch it. But Blogs are editable. Can the publish dates be altered? Is there a place to archive original thoughts that establish proof of ownership?
Here's one for you: What should we call the Guilders and Kuhns of the world? "Coin Droppers".
And another, based on a prediction I have about where digital imaging advances will take our society. There is already a widespread belief - especially in Germany - that the WTC attack of 9/11 was all fakery. I predict that in the next 10-15 years we will see a rash of such cynicism in the world as our ability to digitally create or alter reality becomes so indistinguishable from that reality that there will be a growing sense among otherwise rational people that much of what they experience or are told is fact is just a mirage. The Matrix is real; history is false; that sort of thing. What do you call this phenomenon? Digicism. Remember, you read it here first. Unless none of this is real... hmm...
Here's one for you: What should we call the Guilders and Kuhns of the world? "Coin Droppers".
And another, based on a prediction I have about where digital imaging advances will take our society. There is already a widespread belief - especially in Germany - that the WTC attack of 9/11 was all fakery. I predict that in the next 10-15 years we will see a rash of such cynicism in the world as our ability to digitally create or alter reality becomes so indistinguishable from that reality that there will be a growing sense among otherwise rational people that much of what they experience or are told is fact is just a mirage. The Matrix is real; history is false; that sort of thing. What do you call this phenomenon? Digicism. Remember, you read it here first. Unless none of this is real... hmm...
Lots of silence since my last blog. Blame it on my last one - the Baby Rap. Taylor came in at 10 lbs. 2 oz. and has been growing ever since. Daddy took a real job at Pfizer to deal with needing things like health insurance and formula. Can it be that more than 2 1/2 years have passed? I guess I can sum it all up with this song I wrote a few weeks ago...
Cool Daddy
Since my early days I have tried to find ways to fit in with the happening crew
But whatever my plot, cool I was not – didn’t matter what I’d do
I was always on the outside – every day just another blow to my pride
And to tell the truth I was a total goof – it’s true… Boohoo!
Fast forward to now and I’ll tell you how this Big Daddy came to rule
I was handed a son but was nearly undone by Sippy Cups, diapers and drool
But as my boy began to grow in time I came to know
To my surprise in my son’s eyes I’m COOL!
Because I can blow bubbles and I can juggle three balls
I can fix him a snack – let him ride on my back
I even let him scribble on the bathtub walls
I can laugh like Tigger (Hoo hoo hoo hoo!) – make a splash in the pool
To the rest of the crowd I ain’t too proud to admit I play the fool
But too my son I’m the King of Fun ’cause I’m a Daddy kind of cool!
Now every day in most every way we stick together like glue
And after his nap he’ll get up on my lap when it’s time to watch The Book of Pooh
He thinks that I’m a rock star when he sees me strumming on my guitar
And I’m a happening cat when I Jungle Book scat like King Louie and Baloo…
(or, when he’s old enough to sing along: And we’re happening cats when we Jungle Book scat…)
Hey! Da-zop bah no-dey! Hot ta-dee gla-na-da dot don nohn! Hen-a-ba-ba-det doot zah-bah doo-bo day ga-bom, pa-do be-day, za-bohn, za-bop bop bah-bey! Hab a doo dee! With a reep bon nah-zah! Heb-a doh bah-doy! With a lah bah zee-nee! Whad’ll-a-dup! Vhood’ll-a-bup! Zeed’ll dop! Zoo-dee! Oooo! Ooooh! Eeeee! Eeeee! Eeeee…
…And so you see-he-he – He wants to be like me-he-he
And though it’s clear to everyone here I’m really quite the fool
So what I can’t recall a single Beatles song
I can name every Wiggle and sing along
At least for a while he’s hip to my style
I’m as hep as they get with the tricycle set
I said to my son I’m A-Number-One
’Cause I’m a Daddy kind of cool
I’m a Daddy kind of cool!
© 2003 Ross D. Martin, MD, MHA
9/13/03
Cool Daddy
Since my early days I have tried to find ways to fit in with the happening crew
But whatever my plot, cool I was not – didn’t matter what I’d do
I was always on the outside – every day just another blow to my pride
And to tell the truth I was a total goof – it’s true… Boohoo!
Fast forward to now and I’ll tell you how this Big Daddy came to rule
I was handed a son but was nearly undone by Sippy Cups, diapers and drool
But as my boy began to grow in time I came to know
To my surprise in my son’s eyes I’m COOL!
Because I can blow bubbles and I can juggle three balls
I can fix him a snack – let him ride on my back
I even let him scribble on the bathtub walls
I can laugh like Tigger (Hoo hoo hoo hoo!) – make a splash in the pool
To the rest of the crowd I ain’t too proud to admit I play the fool
But too my son I’m the King of Fun ’cause I’m a Daddy kind of cool!
Now every day in most every way we stick together like glue
And after his nap he’ll get up on my lap when it’s time to watch The Book of Pooh
He thinks that I’m a rock star when he sees me strumming on my guitar
And I’m a happening cat when I Jungle Book scat like King Louie and Baloo…
(or, when he’s old enough to sing along: And we’re happening cats when we Jungle Book scat…)
Hey! Da-zop bah no-dey! Hot ta-dee gla-na-da dot don nohn! Hen-a-ba-ba-det doot zah-bah doo-bo day ga-bom, pa-do be-day, za-bohn, za-bop bop bah-bey! Hab a doo dee! With a reep bon nah-zah! Heb-a doh bah-doy! With a lah bah zee-nee! Whad’ll-a-dup! Vhood’ll-a-bup! Zeed’ll dop! Zoo-dee! Oooo! Ooooh! Eeeee! Eeeee! Eeeee…
…And so you see-he-he – He wants to be like me-he-he
And though it’s clear to everyone here I’m really quite the fool
So what I can’t recall a single Beatles song
I can name every Wiggle and sing along
At least for a while he’s hip to my style
I’m as hep as they get with the tricycle set
I said to my son I’m A-Number-One
’Cause I’m a Daddy kind of cool
I’m a Daddy kind of cool!
© 2003 Ross D. Martin, MD, MHA
9/13/03
Saturday, March 17, 2001
Wrote this yesterday...
Took a little trip to see the doctor today
Found out on an ultrasound what Taylor would weigh
Seems the little guy comes in at NINE POUNDS PLUS!
The doctor shook her head and said "It's baby or bust"
We're headin' to the hospital to get a little potion
When applied a certain way evokes some cervical motion
And then the next morning, we'll try for a day
To see if we can birth him in the usual way
If that's a no-go, then we've got a plan B
He'll make his escape through a little surgery
Assuming that tomorrow is the day his life is startin'
Irish eyes will shine on Mr. Taylor Jay O'Martin
Now we're heading to the hospital. Life will never be the same...
Took a little trip to see the doctor today
Found out on an ultrasound what Taylor would weigh
Seems the little guy comes in at NINE POUNDS PLUS!
The doctor shook her head and said "It's baby or bust"
We're headin' to the hospital to get a little potion
When applied a certain way evokes some cervical motion
And then the next morning, we'll try for a day
To see if we can birth him in the usual way
If that's a no-go, then we've got a plan B
He'll make his escape through a little surgery
Assuming that tomorrow is the day his life is startin'
Irish eyes will shine on Mr. Taylor Jay O'Martin
Now we're heading to the hospital. Life will never be the same...
Tuesday, December 26, 2000
In keeping with what is now a two-year Christmas tradition, I wrote Kym a poem, a la Dr. Seuss, that is an extension of one of Kym’s favorites, Oh, the Places You’ll Go! Pretty much sums up the year we've had...
Oh, the year we have had! with its jostles and bumps
We’ve been high on the Rooftops! And down in the Dumps
Just when we thought that our future was clear
We’d turn ‘round a corner and Change would appear
With his old pal Uncertainty one step behind
All the This-Way-Then-That-Ways became quite a Grind!
Just writing a poem about this year’s events
Creates quite a story that’s rather intense!
We started the year with the Best New Year’s Yet
I popped the question and you said, “You Bet!”
We partied all night at a Y2K ball
And, according to F.J., your gown beat them all!
We moved you to Boston to start a new life
And prepare for the day we’d be Husband and Wife
But our hopes for the future were dashed when we learned
That your Hodgkin’s, so long in remission, returned
For two weeks we viewed your prognosis with terror
When finally we found that the test was in error!
A lesson emerged from that troubling event
Each day must be lived to its fullest extent
We made a decision on that very day
That we should get hitched without further delay!
A few short months later we flew to Hawai’i
And, witnessed by loved ones, were wed on Kaua’i
But wait! That’s not all that occurred on that day!
For that very same night we conceived Taylor Jay!
Talk about Changes! These DINKs ‘til their day’s end
Were suddenly thinking of Pampers and Playpens!
And Sippy-Cups! Strollers! Au Pairs and Papooses!
Barneys and Pokémons! Potters and Seusses!
Our image of just you and me quickly faded
We “Saabed” on that fateful day Cloe got traded
But no doubt, this all will be worth all the Fuss
The day we see Taylor’s eyes looking at us
There’s just not the room to depict all our plans
Of Start-Ups that didn’t and Möbius Bands
Of Legal Frustrations and Selling Sensations!
Of New Jobs and Old Saabs and Small Tribulations
And next year – Look Out! We’re just getting started!
We may move from Boston to places uncharted
But one thing remains – be there Change or whatever
My love for you grows every day we’re together
And one other thing remains Certain, my wife –
I still cherish the night you danced into my life
And last year’s poem…
Oh, the places We’ll go! With hopes flying high
We’ll soar through the air! Our limit, the sky!
Except when you fall and Deep Troubles brew
But when life is its darkest I’ll be there for you
And wouldn’t you know it? The opposite’s true!
When I’m in the Pickle you’ll bail me out too!
For life is just Grand! Despite the Rough Parts
And life’s even better when shared as Sweethearts
So here’s to the Journey! And our yet-revealed Fate
I’m honored to walk the unknown as your Mate
And as we go forward as Husband and Wife
I’ll cherish the night you danced into my life
Oh, the year we have had! with its jostles and bumps
We’ve been high on the Rooftops! And down in the Dumps
Just when we thought that our future was clear
We’d turn ‘round a corner and Change would appear
With his old pal Uncertainty one step behind
All the This-Way-Then-That-Ways became quite a Grind!
Just writing a poem about this year’s events
Creates quite a story that’s rather intense!
We started the year with the Best New Year’s Yet
I popped the question and you said, “You Bet!”
We partied all night at a Y2K ball
And, according to F.J., your gown beat them all!
We moved you to Boston to start a new life
And prepare for the day we’d be Husband and Wife
But our hopes for the future were dashed when we learned
That your Hodgkin’s, so long in remission, returned
For two weeks we viewed your prognosis with terror
When finally we found that the test was in error!
A lesson emerged from that troubling event
Each day must be lived to its fullest extent
We made a decision on that very day
That we should get hitched without further delay!
A few short months later we flew to Hawai’i
And, witnessed by loved ones, were wed on Kaua’i
But wait! That’s not all that occurred on that day!
For that very same night we conceived Taylor Jay!
Talk about Changes! These DINKs ‘til their day’s end
Were suddenly thinking of Pampers and Playpens!
And Sippy-Cups! Strollers! Au Pairs and Papooses!
Barneys and Pokémons! Potters and Seusses!
Our image of just you and me quickly faded
We “Saabed” on that fateful day Cloe got traded
But no doubt, this all will be worth all the Fuss
The day we see Taylor’s eyes looking at us
There’s just not the room to depict all our plans
Of Start-Ups that didn’t and Möbius Bands
Of Legal Frustrations and Selling Sensations!
Of New Jobs and Old Saabs and Small Tribulations
And next year – Look Out! We’re just getting started!
We may move from Boston to places uncharted
But one thing remains – be there Change or whatever
My love for you grows every day we’re together
And one other thing remains Certain, my wife –
I still cherish the night you danced into my life
And last year’s poem…
Oh, the places We’ll go! With hopes flying high
We’ll soar through the air! Our limit, the sky!
Except when you fall and Deep Troubles brew
But when life is its darkest I’ll be there for you
And wouldn’t you know it? The opposite’s true!
When I’m in the Pickle you’ll bail me out too!
For life is just Grand! Despite the Rough Parts
And life’s even better when shared as Sweethearts
So here’s to the Journey! And our yet-revealed Fate
I’m honored to walk the unknown as your Mate
And as we go forward as Husband and Wife
I’ll cherish the night you danced into my life
Wednesday, November 22, 2000
I know it's not Thanksgiving yet, but I've been in a thougtful mood today, considering all that I have to be thankful for (plus I've finally been getting around to writing thank you notes for gifts Kym and I have received for our Summer Solstice wedding). The last 12 months have been a rollercoaster ride for sure, what with a cancer scare, a wedding, an unexpected conception, two deaths in the family (each more a blessing than a curse)... the list goes on. But the resounding truth in it all is that Kym and I have found a love -- and that love has endured. Amen.
Monday, November 20, 2000
I’m really not as obsessed about the election results as I probably sound. It’s just that it’s a topic so ripe for pontification that I just can’t resist. So please forgive yet another electoral rumination…
When the whole concept of a “chad” (which, by the way, received the “red under-squiggle of shame” as I typed it into Word) was dumped into our collective memory databanks, I thought briefly, “Hmm… “The Hanging Chads.” Wouldn’t that be a cool name for a band?
A few days later, a fellow musician from Southern CA (check out The Over-Reactors) sent out his periodical e-mailing which said, “Wouldn’t that be a cool name for a band?”
I did just a little snooping at Network Solutions to see… Sure enough, you’ve already missed out on the opportunity to reserve www.thehangingchads.com, www.thepregnantchads.com or just about any derivative of these top-level domain names. I could only find two that had actually been put to use yet – a conservative pol has reserved www.thepregnantchad.com and www.thehangingchad.com and is starting to fill them with commentary.
No doubt it’s not the first time a concept has hit the scene and brought many individuals to the same conclusion spontaneously. It’s called zeitgeist. So don’t go suing anyone saying that they stole your idea. The courts are too busy already.
One last word about that squiggle – even though Word didn’t recognize chad as a word (nor did my very dusty Webster’s Unabridged 3rd Edition), Bill Gates slyly put it into his Bookshelf 2000 dictionary. Isn’t that interesting that an earlier product did not have the word, but a more recent one – one that was still before the election – in fact did. Coincidence? Perhaps. Conspiracy? We may never know…
When the whole concept of a “chad” (which, by the way, received the “red under-squiggle of shame” as I typed it into Word) was dumped into our collective memory databanks, I thought briefly, “Hmm… “The Hanging Chads.” Wouldn’t that be a cool name for a band?
A few days later, a fellow musician from Southern CA (check out The Over-Reactors) sent out his periodical e-mailing which said, “Wouldn’t that be a cool name for a band?”
I did just a little snooping at Network Solutions to see… Sure enough, you’ve already missed out on the opportunity to reserve www.thehangingchads.com, www.thepregnantchads.com or just about any derivative of these top-level domain names. I could only find two that had actually been put to use yet – a conservative pol has reserved www.thepregnantchad.com and www.thehangingchad.com and is starting to fill them with commentary.
No doubt it’s not the first time a concept has hit the scene and brought many individuals to the same conclusion spontaneously. It’s called zeitgeist. So don’t go suing anyone saying that they stole your idea. The courts are too busy already.
One last word about that squiggle – even though Word didn’t recognize chad as a word (nor did my very dusty Webster’s Unabridged 3rd Edition), Bill Gates slyly put it into his Bookshelf 2000 dictionary. Isn’t that interesting that an earlier product did not have the word, but a more recent one – one that was still before the election – in fact did. Coincidence? Perhaps. Conspiracy? We may never know…
Sunday, November 19, 2000
Another day, still no President-elect. I'm starting to not mind it so much. The rest of my life is in limbo (the new company I'm helping to found is still searching for that ever-important next round of funding), so why not share the feelings of uncertainty with the rest of the nation?
The stock market hardly knows what to do with itself. Pundits always say that the market hates uncertaintly. That's always seemed funny to me because uncertainty is what makes it possible to have a stock market in the first place. If everyone had perfect knowledge of each company's performance, there would be no need for a market; stocks would have a solid value, like that of currency.
At some point, we all get comfortable enough with the idea that life is pretty much an unpredictable phenomenon. Some shroud that unpredictability under a cloud of denial, saying life doesn't change, life changes but I can control it, or life changes because of intervention from a higher power. The higher power issue aside for a moment, it seems pretty outrageous to say that we have much control at all about anything except our response to what is happening around us.
The stock market hardly knows what to do with itself. Pundits always say that the market hates uncertaintly. That's always seemed funny to me because uncertainty is what makes it possible to have a stock market in the first place. If everyone had perfect knowledge of each company's performance, there would be no need for a market; stocks would have a solid value, like that of currency.
At some point, we all get comfortable enough with the idea that life is pretty much an unpredictable phenomenon. Some shroud that unpredictability under a cloud of denial, saying life doesn't change, life changes but I can control it, or life changes because of intervention from a higher power. The higher power issue aside for a moment, it seems pretty outrageous to say that we have much control at all about anything except our response to what is happening around us.
Thursday, November 16, 2000
This is my first blog. I thought it would be a good place to dump random thoughts. Here's one...
I sent this to NPR last night...
The bright side of our election debacle is that the national consciousness is now riveted on a subject of much greater social import than our prior obsessions, most notably the O. J. Simpson trial.
The downside is that the legal eagles involved in the case are comparatively far less colorful. If Johnny Cochran were on Gore’s dream team, the verdict would be a done deal: “If the chad doubts mount, you must recount!”
I sent this to NPR last night...
The bright side of our election debacle is that the national consciousness is now riveted on a subject of much greater social import than our prior obsessions, most notably the O. J. Simpson trial.
The downside is that the legal eagles involved in the case are comparatively far less colorful. If Johnny Cochran were on Gore’s dream team, the verdict would be a done deal: “If the chad doubts mount, you must recount!”
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