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Unlicensed Health “Insurance”

Gibraltar monkey
Image by Salim Virji via Flickr

Health insurance is–without a doubt–expensive.

As much as I hate the idea of socialized health care, it does have one shiny selling point to counter its absolute immorality: it’s cheap.  Assuming, of course, you ignore the higher taxes and skewed supply/demand balance.

Here in the US, we’re free from that burdensome contrivance.  Instead, we have health care and health insurance industries that are heavily regulated and ultimately run by people who have A) never held a job outside of government or academia, and B) have no idea how to run either a hospital or a business.  That works so much better.    Some days, I think our health system would be better run by giving syringes and band-aids to drunken monkeys.   The high-level decision making wouldn’t be worse.

Thanks to that mess and the high unemployment rate that somehow hasn’t been remedied by the 27 bazillion imaginary jobs that have been save or created in the last 2 years, some people are hurting.    Not the poor.  We have so many “safety net” programs that the poor are covered.  I’m talking about the “too rich to be considered poor, but too poor to be comfortable”, the middle class.

If are much above the poverty line, you will stop qualifying for some of the affordable programs.  The higher above the line you go, the less you qualify for.  That makes sense, but the fact that we have so many safety net programs means there is a lot of demand created by all of the people who are getting their health care “free”.

That drives the prices up for the people who actually have to pay for their own care.  Yes, even if you have an employer-sponsored plan, you are paying for the health insurance.   That insurance is a benefit that is a part of your total compensation.  If employers weren’t paying that, they could afford higher wages.

As the price goes up, employers are moving to a high-deductible plans, which puts a squeeze on the employees’ budgets.   Employees–you and I, the people who actually have to pay these bills–are looking for ways to save money on the care, so they can actually afford to see a doctor.

In response to that squeeze, some unscrupulous people(#$%#@%! scammers) are capitalizing on the financial pain and selling “health discount plans” which promise extensive discounts for a cheap membership fee.   These plans are not insurance.   In a best-case scenario, the discount plans will get you a small discount from a tiny network of doctors and clinics.  Prescription drug plans are no better.  You may get a 60% discount, but only if you use a back-alley pharmacy in Nome, Alaska between the hours of 8 AM and 8:15 AM on January 32nd of odd leap years.

How can you tell it’s a scam?

The scammers will try to sell you on false scarcity. They’ll say the plan is filling up fast and you have to buy now if you want to get in on it.   For all major purchases, if you aren’t going to be allowed time to research your options, assume it’s a scam.  Good deals won’t evaporate.

They aren’t licensed. Call the Department of Commerce for your state and see if the company is a licensed insurance provider.  Pro tip: they aren’t.

They don’t want you to read the plan until after you’ve paid.   That’s a flashing, screaming, electro-shock warning sign for anything.  Once you’ve given them your money, your options are reduced.

The price is amazingly low.  Of course it is.  They aren’t actually providing any services, so their overhead is nonexistent.  They only have to pay for gas to get to the bank to cash your checks.

Really, the best way to judge if something is a scam is to go with your gut. Does it feel like a scam?  Do you feel like you’re getting away with something? Does it sound too good to be true?

To recap: health care/prescription discount plans = bad juju.

 

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Family Bed: How to Make It Stop

A young girl kisses a <a href=baby on the cheek.” width=”300″ height=”199″ />
Image via Wikipedia

For years, my kids shared my bed.

When my oldest was a baby, I was working a graveyard shift, so my wife was alone with the baby at night.    It was easy to keep a couple of bottles in a cooler by the bed and not have to get out of bed to take care of him when he woke up once an hour to drink a full bottle.

Then he got older.  And bigger.  And bigger.

We tried to move him to his own bed a few times, but it never worked well.    He’d scream if we put him in a crib, so we got him a bed at 9 months old.  That just meant he was free to join us whenever he woke up.  Brat.

We finally got him to voluntarily move to his own bed after his sister was born.    Shortly after she was born, I woke up to see him using her as a pillow.   To paint the proper picture, this kid is 5’9″ and wears size 12 shoes.  At 11.  When I woke him up to tell him what he was doing, he decided to sleep in his own bed.

Method #1 to get your kids in their own bed:  Have kid 1 try to crush kid 2 and feel bad about it.

Method #1 isn’t a great solution.

Soon, baby #3 showed up and we had 2 monsters in bed with us again.    Once they started getting bigger, it became difficult for the 4 of us to sleep.   We tried to get them into their own beds.   Unfortunately, even as toddlers, my kids had a stubborn streak almost as big as my own.   Nothing worked.

Eventually, they got big enough that I was crowded right out of the bed.  At least we had a comfortable couch.

Sleeping on a couch gets old.

When the girls got old enough to reason with, we had a choice:  We either had to find a way to convince them they wanted to sleep in their own room, or we had to have a fourth brat for them to attempt to crush at night.

We went with bribery.  Outright, blatant bribery.

We put a chart on the wall with each of their names and 7 boxes.  Every night they slept in their own beds, they got to check a box.   When all of the boxes were checked, they got $5 and a trip to the toy store.

It took 10 days to empty our bed and it’s been peaceful sleeping since.  That’s $5 well-spent.

Have you done a family bed?  How did it work?  How long did it last?

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The Unfrugal Meal

A Teppanyaki chef cooking on a modern gas powe...
Image via Wikipedia

I spend a lot of time talking about how to save money here.  It’s kind of what I do.

Not today.

Today, I’m going to talk about the best way I’ve wasted money during my vacation this week.

First, so my feelings are completely understood:  A vacation is about experiences and memories.   I could spend all day at the park with my kids, or I could spend a memorable meal with them.   Which will they remember longer?

It ain’t the park.  They are there almost every day.

Of course, if the restaurant is McDonald’s they wouldn’t remember for long, either.

Tuesday, after a long day of hands-on, interactive museum-going, we took the kids to a Japanese steakhouse.   Teppanyaki, where they cook the food at the table, complete with fire, spatula spinning, and airborne food.

I’m the only one in my family who has seen that before.    Honestly, watching the art, the skill, the banter, and the giant fireball leaves me as wide-eyed as my kids.

They loved it.

Watching the chef throw a bowl full of rice across the table made my son’s jaw drop.

Seeing the chef carry fire from one side of the grill to the other on his fingers made my youngest squeal and beg for more fire tricks.

Getting squirted by the chef when he was putting out a flare-up made the middle brat giggle, possibly because the squirt gun was a little kid, dressed up as a fireman, with his pants down.   She got “peed” on and loved it.

Aside from cooking-as-a-show, the service was fantastic.   There was always a waiter nearby to keep our water glasses full or to provide “little kid” chopsticks, which are modified with rubber band to remove the need for skill to eat.   They had the courses perfectly timed.   The minute the salad was cleared, the soup was delivered.   When that was done, the chef rolled up to start on the rice.  My two-year-old was eating white rice without complaint for the first time.

Giggles and squeals.  Three days later, they are still talking about it.   My 11-year-old, who’s trying so hard to be an unimpressible teenager, says it was the coolest restaurant he’s ever seen.

Frugal, it wasn’t, but the memories were worth the money.

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The Virtues of Preparation

Rainbow striped toe socks worn with thong sandals
Image via Wikipedia

The first day of school caught me by surprise yesterday.

I knew it was coming, and we had almost all of the stuff we need in the brat’s backpack, but we weren’t ready for it.

Yesterday morning, we woke up.  Brat #3 was uncooperative, to say the least, so I wasn’t playing my ‘A’ game.    I woke up Brat #1 and sent him on his way to get changed and eat breakfast.   Ten minutes later, I chased him off of the couch to go get changed and eat breakfast.  He had forgotten that his school day starts at 7:30, now.

He ate and grabbed his backpack to leave.  I sent him to his room to change.

He changed and grabbed his backpack to leave.   I sent him to his room for socks.

He put on socks and grabbed his backpack to leave.   Then he realized his shoes weren’t by the door.

Shoe hunt!

I got him out of the door, only to see his face again a minute later when he realized he had forgotten something else.

Please remember that Brat #3 was acting up the entire time.

During the course of this, I was trying to make my lunch, which spent the day sitting on my kitchen counter.   I was dressing myself; I don’t know how many times I made it to the front door, only to realize I hadn’t put on socks, yet.  Or pants, for that matter.

What could have gone better?

Preparation.

On Monday, the day we all had off, with no plans, we should have set our alarms and done a dry run, right up to the point of walking out of the door.   Here’s how Monday should have gone:

  • All the school and daycare stuff should have been ready to go the night before.
  • I get up, have breakfast, then wake Brat #1.
  • He gets up and has breakfast, while I dress Brats #2 & 3.
  • Brat #1 gets dressed while I help the girls with their shoes and jackets.
  • Brat #1 throws on shoes and heads out the door while I strap the girls into the car.
  • Everybody’s happy.

That’s the well-oiled machine I would like to see in the morning.  Am I dreaming?  How do you handle your morning routine efficiently?

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