The Power Of Pink and Juicy…

If you read this blog with any regularity, first, God Bless You.  While I’d like to think it is because you are sophisticated, self-aware and desire to be highly informed in issues related to health, health care and HSAs, more than likely it is due to a very specific need, that landed you here, and our appeal to quirky nature and sometimes lack of political correctness that caused you to come back. 

I was in mid-town Manhattan a few weeks ago and saw a woman in a bright yellow sweat suit walking up the sidewalk.  Plastered across her two bouncing butt cheeks was the word “Pink.”  The First Amendment allows for freedom of speech, so while I respect the woman’s right to draw attention to her caboose, I’m not sure why she was doing it.  I felt like I was looking directly into the sun itself.  My retinas burning, I had to squint in pain and turn away.  I wonder if that was her intent?

Then I saw another woman wearing a different sweat suit.  Hers had the word “Juicy” plastered across it back.  With all due respect, this woman was not “juicy.”  As a guy, when I think of the word “juicy,” generally it is the context of a nice piece of meat smoking on the grill and a cold beer in my hand.  Like the “Pink” lady; this woman was neither “juicy” nor was she a T-bone.  In fact she had a bad dye job, huge sparkly sunglasses, and fingernails that never stopped.  While her nails mayhave been good for back scratching, were she to read this article, she’d probably wouldn’t think twice about using them to scratch my eyeballs out. 

As I ruminate (imagine a cow chewing cud) about “Pink” and “Juicy” I can’t help but think; a sweat suit does not a healthy person make (the voice of Yoda in ringing in my head here).   Although putting on sweats, anticipates a little exercise, I’m pretty sure neither “Pink” nor “Juicy” had that on their agenda for that day.  I also doubt either one of them has ever heard of a Health Savings Account.  My point of all this is that good health requires action.  The action starts with some self-awareness, a little planning, and behavioral changes.

If your modus operandi is to draw attention to big cabooses and bad dye jobs, may the power of “pink” and “juicy” be with you. But (pun recognized) if you are looking to take control of your health in a more productive way, then read a few more posts.  Who knows, you might actually decide it’s ok to work up a little sweat in that suit you’re wearing.

It’s Healthcare Crunch Time. Keep Your Eye On The Hairball

My sister-in-law, Miss Eugenia, up and got married the day after Christmas.  She’d been fixin’ to do this for over 6 months.  Why she felt compelled to try and trump Santa Claus and Jesus Christ was a little bit beyond me, but hey, I suppose when you’re in love, you’re in love.  And I am sure the 5th time will be the charm. 

Anyway, Eugenia, her momma and her best friend Inelle have been working on this thing for months.  Tying rice all up, ordering cakes, cleaning the burger wrappers and soda cans out of the truck,  picking out dresses, frettin’ over the weather, the church, the guests, and pretty much everything else.  You’d think after having done this four times already, they’d ‘bout have this whole wedding thing figured out.

On Saturday morning, Eugenia and her Momma take all the “bridesmaids” out to have their hair “done.”  Being as how this is Eugenia’s 5th wedding, she’s ‘bout brides maided out all her friends, so now she is using her daughter, our daughter, the two daughters of her new husband, her best friend’s daughter, the daughters of her sisters, brothers, and the new man’s sisters.  Nine bridesmaids ages 2 years old to 16.  The oldest one being my daughter.

For all you men out there and women not from the South, having your hair “done” down here is not like getting a hair cut, or a permanent or anything like that.  Having one’s hair “done” is kind of like frosting a wedding cake, or decorating the Christmas tree on top of Macys.  It involves largeness.  You might say, having your hair “done”, really involves having it overdone.  Anyway, when my daughter gets home Saturday morning from getting her hair done over at Queen Frostine’s Hairport   where apparently they will “do” young girls’ wedding hair for $15 a piece, she is looking like a Texas beauty queen.  We are talking high hair.  Big huge hair.  Don King nirvana.  

So where am I going with all this, and what the heck does it have to do with health care?  Not a damn thing.  The point of it is this is a very busy time of year and while you were running around like a chicken with its head cut off, then eating a big ‘ol holiday Who Feast and are now in a post holiday food coma, the U.S. Senate passed a nasty piece of health legislation that is going to reach into your pocket and a hairball of big hair proportions.  While the nation is coming out of its holiday food coma and hangover the Senate and House will be trying to cram their two pieces of legislation together in a process called reconciliation.  I would liken this to trying to put Kahlid Sheikh Muhammed in a dress.  Ugly to begin with, a nasty fight in between, and even uglier when completed.  Boys and girls, if this thing gets thing is done we are not going to be able to put a bag over its head and pretend it’s something it’s not.  We need to work together to send the whole ugly duck back to the drawing board.