Monday, March 22, 2010


It's hard to avoid the TV on a Sunday in late March. So you keep switching stations, watching the fierce competition, the tests of endurance, the fouls and trash-talking, the joy of victory and the agony of defeat.

I'm talking, of course, about the health care debate in Congress on C-SPAN.

I don't usually watch C-SPAN, but yesterday I kept flipping over to it because I wanted to see what would happen with the health care vote. Now I know why I don't make a habit of watching C-SPAN. It is torturous. It's like watching cricket-- a sporting event where you don't understand the rules and have no idea if what just happened was a good thing or not.

There were countless motions and declarations and procedures and votes and speeches and I had no idea what was going on.

Person With Gavel (PWG): The speaker recognizes the right honorable wicket from Texas to speak before a procedural vote to authorize swithmuckles in the preceding concession for pre-voting on the proclamation to recognize the national volleyball team. You have two minutes.

Man at Microphone (MaM): I request two minutes and 19 seconds.

PWG: You have two minutes.

MaM: Why won't the speaker allow 2 minutes and 19 seconds? The speaker allowed 2 minutes and 19 seconds for the gentle lady folk from Elbownia.

PWG: You have two minutes.

And so on. There is language like, "motion to suspend rules and agree" (which makes you wonder if the rule is to disagree) and "motion to recommit with instructions."

They did about a hundred votes, each lasting five minutes, that had nothing to do with the health care bill. Some examples (As Dave Barry would say, I swear I'm not making these up):

  • Recognizing the 65th anniversary of the Battle of Iwo Jima (421 ayes, 0 nays)
  • Commending the members of Agri-business Development teams... (418-3)
  • To revise the boundaries of the Gettysburg National Military Park to include the Gettysburg Train Station, and for other purposes (372-31)
  • On "approving the journal" (229-189)


So, anyway, nothing less than the passage of universal health care in this country could get me to endure such nonsense. Actually, not even that momentous event could keep me there, as eventually I got tired of trying to make sense of it all and went to bed. I knew that NPR would give me a summary of important stuff in the morning.

And I have to say, I'm relieved, hopeful, and excited that Congress did the right thing. It's not the plan that many of us hoped for, but it's a step in the right direction. As James Fallows explains much better than I could:
For now, the significance of the vote is moving the United States FROM a system in which people can assume they will have health coverage IF they are old enough (Medicare), poor enough (Medicaid), fortunate enough (working for an employer that offers coverage, or able themselves to bear expenses), or in some other way specially positioned (veterans; elected officials)... TOWARD a system in which people can assume they will have health-care coverage. Period.
Read the rest here. What he says.

Conservatives are, of course, predicting the end of the world, or at least the end of our country. What I don't understand is why so many people think the government is not capable of providing health insurance. First of all, they already do it with Medicare, Medicaid, and in the military; secondly, every other civilized country in the world does it, and they haven't dissolved into a puddle of dust; and thirdly, every great social change in this country, from emancipation to women's suffrage to Social Security to desegregation to the Civil Rights Act to Medicare, has been opposed by conservatives, and went on to become the status quo. Health care for all Americans has been way overdue.

If you want to know what the bill actually does, here's a convenient list of the benefits and when they will take effect:

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

That Guy

There's an episode of American Dad where Stan is on trial in heaven.

In a moment of tension, he pulls out a gun and threatens a room full of heaven people. They laugh at him. "Earthly guns have no power here."

Then he steals a "heaven gun" from a guard and waves it around. Everyone recoils in horror. A suit-wearing angel stands up and asks, about heaven guns, "Why do we have those again?"

At the end of the scene the guy/angel stands up again and says:

Seriously, why do we have heaven guns? I don't mean to be that guy, I'm happy here, but why is this not an issue?

I love this scene. And I think the thing I love most about it is how I can identify with the "that guy" angel. I don't know how many times in my life I say, "I hate to be that guy, but..."

Like, the guy who complains that the tennis center is too cold, or who points out typos in published materials, or who suggests to the department secretary how to communicate better.

So, yeah, I'm probably too anal and overanalyze stuff, but I like to think that we That Guys provide a valuable service: we say the things that others are too polite to say.

And in the case of heaven guns, we're damn funny.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

The Anal Communicator Strikes Again

The Anal Communicator returns in

"The Invitation"


Monday morning, 9:12 am. The following exchange takes place entirely over email.

Vice President's Secretary (VPS), to the entire division: Just a friendly reminder about Colors Training tomorrow in [Building Name & Rm #] from 11:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. We will be having [Caterer] for lunch. Hope to see you all there!! :)

Anal Communicator (AC): Was there a notice sent out about this before? This is the first I’ve heard of it.

VPS: Yes, I sent an invitation out. It was called Quatrefoil Invite

AC: Do you know what date it was sent out? I can’t find anything in my inbox about it and it wasn’t on my calendar. There are some other staff members of the library who were also unaware of it. Was it sent to all of [our division]? I just want to make sure that something’s not wrong with my email system. Thanks!

VPS: It was sent out on February 12. I will forward you the invite. I wonder if maybe it went to your junk mail for some reason? And yes, it went to all [our division].

The entire original message:

From: Vice President Secretary []
Sent: Friday, February 12, 2010 1:44 PM
To: Vice President Secretary
Subject: Quatrefoil Invite


AC: Sorry, I don’t have this in my inbox, and I don’t remember receiving it, but if I did, I might have thought it was spam because the subject was unclear and I’m not likely to click on a “Play” button in an email if I don’t know what it’s for.

Since I’m not the only person in [our division] who didn’t know about this meeting (I checked with two other library staff), perhaps you could put “Division Mtg.” in the subject line next time? And put the critical information in the body of the email? For example, the reminder you sent out this morning was very helpful.

Thanks, and sorry for the misunderstanding. :)



Author's note: The original invite doesn't reveal who the intended recipients are, which is a spam flag. I also have no idea what "quatrafoil" means-- even after attending said meeting. And I'm pretty sure I want to avoid clicking on anything that says "I made a smilebox!"