April 2010 Archives

I was sitting out on the screened-in porch, keeping an eye on Jordi, who was laying outside in the grass. I had the door propped open, so he could come and go.

Suddenly--there was a bird. A wren, or sparrow, or something tiny like that. Right there in the porch, trying to figure a way to escape from the enclosure. I saw an opportunity to give Jordi some exercise and high excitement. So I closed the door, then brought Jordi inside, so he could try to catch the bird.

It was lots of fun. The bird flew from one side to the other, with Jordi following closely. It would land on a low ledge, and Jordi would carefully peer over the top, then maybe lunge.

He finally did catch the bird. He grasped it gently in his teeth and then walked to the door, wanting to take his prize inside to show to his sister. Which is when I went to get the camera.

When I came back, the bird was loose again. More fun followed. Jordi didn't catch the bird a second time, though he came close. The bird discovered some high beams it could rest on, and that's when the fun pretty much came to an end. I eventually got a broom out and ushered the bird to the door, thanking him for his unwilling participation in our afternoon amusement.

Belinda Luscome wrote this tremendous (and very funny) column in the May 3 edition of Time magazine, called "Should Larry King's Marriage License be Revoked?"

The occasion is the breakup of Larry King's eight marriage; she calls him the "octospouse." She refers to other serial spouses, like Liz Taylor, Zsa Zsa Gabor, and Mickey Rooney. And then she wonders why we allow this.

"In no other area of life can grown people flame out so often and so badly and still get official permission to go ahead and do the same thing again. If your driving is hazardous to those around you, your license is suspended. Fail too many courses at college, and you'll get kicked out. You can lose your medical or law license for a single infraction. ...So why do people who are committed vows abusers keep getting handed marriage licenses at city hall? If batters and violent offenders get only three strikes, why should bad spouses get more?"

The article is quite funny, especially toward the end when she gives some great tongue-in-cheek solutions. But amidst the levity is a lot of truth.

Here's a great quote from the late Dr. Ralph Winter:

People who are won to Christ rarely understand that they have been recruited to become soldiers in an all-out war. However, admittedly, individuals on their own can't "win a war." To win a war you need a whole lot of things.

The United States during the Second World War would be an example. Swarms of servicemen (including women) swirled about on planes, trains, and buses, heading off to ports of departure for the various theaters of war around the world. Eleven million were sprayed out across the globe in the Army, Air Corps, and the Navy.

But 200 million civilians staying behind were equally occupied by the war. As millions of men disappeared from their jobs, women took their places. A largely women's workforce ("Rosie the riveter") built entire ships in 30 days, medium bombers in four hours. Nylon was needed for parachute cords - no more stockings. No more coffee: incoming ships had no room for such trivialities because more crucial goods took their place.

Any idle moments or unused material were instantly challenged by "Don't you know there is a war on?" Family outings on Sunday became illegal if any gasoline was used. It had other more crucial uses. You could get a huge fine for unnecessary driving - driving unrelated to the war, like, yes, a family outing on Sunday!

Today, when Evangelical believers get together, they don't compare notes on how to win the war against the "works of the devil." They compare prices on home furnishings, vacations, adult toys. Truly, they don't know there is a war on! To them we don't live in a wartime economy but a peacetime context.

Joe Lansdale is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. He excels at developing memorable characters, and his plots are unusual.

Both of these books are set in East Texas--"Sunset and Sawdust" in the 1930s Depression, "Lost Echoes" in the present.

"Lost Echoes" is a 2007 book in the Vintage Crime / Black Lizard imprint--the 99th Black Lizard book I've read. The protagonist, Harry Wilkes, has the ability to "see" terrible events which occurred in whatever place he's in--murders, rapes, car accidents, domestic violence. A vision takes over, and it's like he's there watching it happen.

This takes over his life. He keeps a notebook detailing places to avoid, lest he get entrapped in another vision. Alcohol is one way to keep the visions at bay. Harry meets up with another alcoholic, a very interesting guy named Tad who's also a martial artist, and they both climb on the wagon together.

Harry's childhood crush, Kayla, enters the picture, and they set about trying to solve the murder of her father many years before. Other people come and go, and you're not sure what role they play in the story, but there's a role of some kind. It's a good story. The ending gets a bit crazy, but I say that in a good way.

"Sunset and Sawdust," written in 2004, begins with a woman--named Sunset, because of her red hair--shooting her husband in the head while he's beating and raping her (and while a tornado is taking their house apart). He's the police constable, and when they need a new one, she ends up getting the job. Not without opposition.

This book is a companion of sorts to "The Bottoms," an astoundingly good book set in East Texas during the Depression. Both show the extreme racism of that time and place, with blacks cowering in subservience, always knowing they can get lynched for practically anything. His black characters are compelling.

Lansdale develops at an unhurried pace, introducing new characters only after you've had time to get acquainted with the previous ones. Two bodies are found, and Sunset and her makeshift police force try to unravel what happened. It gets complicated. Some people die, some live. The story resolved to my complete satisfaction.

"Sunset and Sawdust" is a better book than "Lost Echoes," but "The Bottoms" is the best of the three.

James Fallows, the famed writer for The Atlantic, once wrote that George Bush brought a "truly toxic combination of traits" to presidential decision-making.

1. Ignorance. He was not broadly informed to begin with.
2. Lack of curiosity. He did not seek out new information.
3. Decisiveness. He prided himself on making broad, bold decisions quickly, and then sticking to them to show resoluteness.

I think there may be some pastors like this. And corporate execs, and coaches, and parents, and generals, and fill in the blank. Certainly tons of other politicians. You make a decision without really thinking it through, and then refuse to admit that you may have made a mistake. Just a matter of scale.

A denominational communications director may even be guilty of this occasionally.

Henning Mankell's nine-book series about Chief Inspector Kurt Wallander begins in January 1990. Wallander is 42, divorced, a father, and has risen through the police ranks. He started out in Malmo, then transferred to the smaller city of Ystad, where all of the Wallander books occur. So there's a lot we don't know about Wallander.

"The Pyramid: The First Wallander Cases" fills in the blanks with five stories which span the year from 1969, when Wallander is a 21-year-old patrolman, to the first Wallander book, "The Faceless Killers." I expected a somewhat disjointed book. And yet, the five stories hold together real well as a whole.

"Wallander's First Case" (100 pages) occurs in 1969 when our protagonist is patrolman in Malmo, preparing to transfer to the detective division. He looks into an apparent suicide in his apartment building, and it turns into a murder mystery. We also meet his fiance, Mona, and we can tell this marriage won't work out.

"The Man with the Mask" occurs on Christmas Eve in 1975. Wallander is married to Mona, has a daughter (Linda), and will soon begin a new job in Ystad. This 30-page story finds him confronting a robber/killer at a gas station. It's a fascinating piece.

"The Man on the Beach" occurs in Ystad in 1985. It's a simple, interesting little murder mystery. Wallander's marriage is on the rocks.

"The Death of the Photographer" (60 pages) occurs in 1987. Wallander is now divorced.

The final story, "The Pyramid," occurs in 1989. It's a large plot involving international drug-running, and has the feel of a full-blown Wallander book condensed into 160 pages. The book ends with Wallander receiving an early morning call about a new murder, which is the beginning of "The Faceless Killers."

The five stories tell a lot about Wallander, and are interesting stories in themselves. I particularly liked the two 30-page stories. I wasn't expecting a lot from this book, and was pleasantly surprised.

Jordi helps me display my big bandage.



Jordi and Molly kept me company throughout the night (click to enlarge).

On April 16, I had an endolymphatic shunt placed behind my left ear. The operation was done by Dr. Jerry House at the Carmel Surgery Center in Indianapolis (by St. Vincent's Hospital on Meridian, just a couple miles north of the I-465 bypass).

The surgery was done at 2 p.m. and lasted about 70 minutes. Everything went great. We were on the road back home to Fort Wayne about 4:45. Hopefully, the operation will eliminate most of the vertigo and other symptoms of Meniere's Disease, which I've battled since around 2003.

Thus far, I've been spared three common side-effects:

• The operation can trigger severe nausea and vertigo which can last a couple weeks. I've had zero nausea.
• The ear, or whole side of the face, can be puffed out significantly. I have very little swelling.
• I was warned that there can be significant pain the first day or two. I'm taking Vicodin, but I'm not sure I need to. The discomfort is minimal.

I came home with a big bandage, which we removed Saturday morning. We had to remove the left arm of my glasses in order to fit them on around the bandage.

I spent the evening on the couch in the living room, alternating between dozing and reading Robert Parker's "Stranger in Paradise." Since it was plenty comfy, I just stayed there throughout the night. Besides, my sleep patterns were all messed up. I ended up watching "Bangkok Dangerous," a Nicholas Cage movie, in the early morning hours. Pretty good movie.

The symptoms of Meniere's Disease started around 2003, though it was a couple years before it was diagnosed. Meniere's causes frequent vertigo and hearing loss. It only affects my left ear; I've lost about 60% of my hearing in that ear and have tinnitus, a constant background roar, which I've learned to not really notice.

There is no cure for Meniere's. However, several surgeries can offset the symptoms. The endolymphatic shunt is the least invasive. When pressure builds up, which brings on the vertigo, fluid (only a couple drops) will now be diverted into this shunt and then absorbed into the surrounding membrane. The surgery is 90% successful immediately, and about 70% successful after 3-5 years (2 out of 10 people revert to how they were before the surgery).

I could have had the surgery done here in Fort Wayne. However, I didn't have confidence in the doctor here. He's good, and lots of people speak highly of him, but he didn't seem to pay much attention to things I told him, and kept prescribing more and more pills. I wrote about that experience.

My family doctor, John Carnes, tracked down the name of Jerry House, whom one of his other patients had used. Pam and I immediately liked him. He's very personable, quickly acknowledged my symptoms as Meniere's Disease, and pulled out great metaphors to clearly explain what was happening. He's done zillions of these operations.

When the nurse at the surgical center was prepping me, I asked, "Do you always work with Dr. House?"

She said, "It just depends on who they assign me to. But when we get assigned to Dr. House, we know it's going to be a good day."

She then sang further praises--he was kind, considerate, professional, and was always the same. "With some doctors, you're not sure what you'll get that day."

"Joker One: A Marine Platoon's Story of Courage, Leadership, and Brotherhood," left me in tears. It really did.

Donovan Campbell led the platoon called Joker One during five months in 2004 in Ramadi, a major city in Iraq's Anbar Province. When they arrived in March 2004, a year after the invasion, things were dangerous, yet fairly calm. But the insurgency exploded in April and continued until Joker One left in September...and it then continued for a couple more years. Their battalion took more casualties than any battalion--Marine or Army--since Vietnam.

The book's subtitle says it well: a story of courage, leadership, and brotherhood.

I was initially conscious of the leadership part--Campbell's leadership, starting in the States with pre-deployment training. He led by example, with strength, and with sensitivity. I realized that he would make a good pastor; in many ways, he was a shepherd for his men. And it was servant leadership. He was there to serve and protect his men. That theme prevailed throughout the book.

The first 150 pages take place in the States and in the early days of their time in Ramadi. Then, with the section titled "Fierce," come 150 pages of regular combat. You see the grind of daily fighting take its toll on the men, and on Campbell. You also see the professionalism, strength, competence, morality, and awesome firepower of the American soldier.

There is nothing flashy about Campbell's writing. But he communicates with authenticity. He clearly acknowledges his own failings, and doesn't dwell on the things he does well. He earned a Bronze Star with Valor, but he never mentions it in the book.

Campbell (left) throws some deserved barbs at Paul Bremer, the civilian leader whose decisions caused so much havoc in Iraq. During the summer of battle, with friends dying around him, he muses about people in the States obliviously heading out on their vacations. In August, "America focused on something totally incomprehensible to us--the 2004 Summer Olympics." It shows  how much the war had been removed from our minds.

Campbell muses occasionally on spiritual subjects, and in evangelical terminology, though he never explicitly identifies himself as a Christian or even as a man of faith. I found that most interesting.

Near the end, in chapter 37, he talks in biblical language about love and sacrifice. It's an amazing chapter--my favorite, the one that choked me up--as he reflects on Joker One.

"For me, then, loving Joke One--something I so desperately hoped that I did--meant much more than simply feeling that I cared. It meant patience when explaining something for the fifth time to a 19-year-old who just didn't get it. It meant kindness when dealing with a Marine who had made an honest mistake while trying his hardest; mercy when deciding the appropriate punishment. It meant dispensing justice and then forgetting that it had been dispensed, punishing wrong and then wiping the slate clean.

"Love was joy at the growth of my men, even when it diminished my own authority. It was giving the credit for our successes to the team while assuming all the responsibility for our failures on myself. It was constantly teaching my men, sharing everything with them until I had nothing left to give, with the expectation and the hope that they would become greater then me. It was making myself less so that they might become more. Love accepted the Marines for exactly who they were and never believed that it was all they would be....

"So that was how we loved those who hated us; blessed those who persecuted us; daily laid down our lives for our neighbors....Now I understand more about what it means to truly love, and what it means to love your neighbor--how you can do it even when your neighbor literally tries to kill you." He mentions Bolding, a Marine killed while trying to protect some Iraqi children. "Bolding had lived out the greater-love principle to its fullest possible extent."

Campbell writes in the tradition of the soldier-poet, rather than of the foul-mouthed sergeant telling it like it is. He's authentic and introspective, and I felt I truly learned a lot about the American soldier.

MSNBC is back on XM Satellite Radio, finally! I used to listen to it all the time going to work, when Don Imus hosted the morning show. Everybody who was anybody in politics clamored to be on his show. He made them put away the talking points and give honest opinions, and they complied (or were blacklisted by Imus). I loved it. It was the most enlightening, and fun, political show on TV or radio (though Imus constantly strayed over "the line").

But in 2006, XM Radio dropped MSNBC from the line-up. As a result, for the past four years I've been listening to ESPN's Mike&Mike show on my way to work--and, in fact, have become a huge, huge fan. Even prior to 2006, I frequently listened to it if Imus didn't interest me.

Sure, I could still listen to CNN or FoxNews, both of which are on XM Radio. But the CNN morning show is terribly boring, with no star-power and generic hosts. And the Fox&Friends show is intolerably partisan, one of my all-time least-favorite shows, one for which there is a special place in Hell far from the drinking fountain.

After the Great Imus Fall in 2007, MSNBC replaced Imus with Joe Scarborough. The show started slowly, but now attracts an impressive array of guests of all stripes, much like the old Imus program did (but without the juvenile elements). All the political power players from both parties eagerly agree to be guests. The political wattage is astounding.

Scarborough is a conservative Republican, but he's a very fair host. When people come on with opposing views, he doesn't feel like he must win an argument like Sean Hannity and other purely partisan pundits do (if they even bother to bring on guests with opposing views). Nor will he let a partisan come on and rant unchallenged (like the Fox shows allow Ann Coulter and Michelle Malkin and others to do). Rather, Joe presides over a discussion which can be extremely enlightening. You learn something, without the shouting (though Joe and Lawrence O'Donnell tend to mix it up).

It's actually somewhat of an ensemble news show, with regulars like Mika Brzezinski (who is basically a co-host), Mike Barnacle, Patrick Buchanan, and Willie Geist. Morning Joe is in the tradition of the This Week with David Brinkley. Brinkley always treated guests with respect, and when they left the set and the show moved on, he refused to talk about them; he considered it rude, unclassy. Of course, Brinkley was a journalist by profession, whereas Scarborough is a politician-turned-TV-host. Brinkley rarely showed his opinions, even during the pioneering roundtable at the end of each program (he left that to Sam Donaldson and George Will). Joe has no such conniptions, but he holds back, letting us learn from his guests rather than feel like he must pummel views which don't agree with his own.

Anyway, this morning I listened to Morning Joe on the way to work. What a pleasure! I know I'll be switching back and forth between Morning Joe and Mike&Mike. But at least now I've got a valid news option.

I think this video clip from Texas pastor Matt Chandler is right on. He talks about the "de-churched," the growing phenomenon in the United States of young people who are abandoning the church. My church, Anchor, has often referred to itself as a church for the de-churched--people who once attended, but had a bad experience or became disillusioned or whatever. Lots of different reasons. But Chandler hits one valid angle.

(If you're reading this on Facebook, you'll need to click the link for "Read Original Post" to view the video clip on my blog.)

Chandler says, "They were sold, 'Here's how you put God into your debt.'"

I think that's a great way to put it.

You behave yourself, follow the rules, do good things, attend church regularly--all the things a Christian should do. And in return, we promise, God won't let anything bad happen to you. You'll have a wonderful life. Everything will work out." Because God is obligated to come through for you. It's an evangelical, tone-down version of the Prosperity Gospel.

Then, when things don't go according to their wishes, they bail out on the church. It's not what they were promised. The Christian life isn't supposed to be difficult. The church deceived them. Their investment turned sour.

Skye Jethani talks about this further on Christianity Today's "Out of Ur" blog. He writes:

They believe that if they just follow God's rules he will bless their lives. When things fail to work out as promised, they bail on the church....

It's not that we are failing to preach the gospel, but that we are failing to deconstruct the consumer filter through which people twist and receive it. The result is a hybrid consumer gospel in which God exists to serve me and accomplish my desires in exchange for my obedience....

I think there are plenty of people willing to deny themselves and take up their cross. But we too often neither ask that of people, nor even present it as something they might consider doing. Instead, people just hear the false gospel of sugar and spice and everything nice. And when they encounter something that's not nice, that's difficult, their consumer mentality draws their attention elsewhere.

"The Fifth Floor," the second book starring private investigator Michael Kelly by author Michael Harvey, is a winner, just like Harvey's previous "The Chicago Way." Both are part of the Black Lizard imprint from Vintage Books.

The title refers to the floor of the Chicago city building which houses the mayor's office. The plot starts with a spousal abuse case, and morphs into a murder mystery, and then a historical mystery going back to the 1871 Great Chicago Fire. Plenty of city political intrigue.

Plus a Barack Obama kind of character--a young charismatic black named Mitchell Kincaid who comes out of nowhere to run for mayor. But the incumbent mayor would get nasty, in true Chicago fashion, before giving up his job. One character, about Kincaid's chances, says, "Please. Barak Obama is one thing. He was only running for president. Kincaid wants to be mayor."

Harvey keeps things moving. There are no wasted, gratuitous scenes. Every scene, and every character, matters to the plot. He keeps several little subplots going, all inter-related, and wraps up every single one of them.

Harvey also plays fair, avoiding the tendency (like Chandler and others) to let the protagonist unravel the mystery in a nice speech at the end, using clues not previously available to the reader. I always hate that; it's one of my pet peeves. Harvey actually lapsed into that a little bit, during the last 100 pages, but he extracted himself from it and I don't hold it against him.

"The Fifth Floor" is the 98th book of the Black Lizard imprint that I've read. I've already decided that Henning Mankell's "The Pyramid," just released in the US last fall (it showed up under the Christmas tree--thanks, Pam) will be the 100th. But right now, I need to go pick out Number 99.

Until a couple years ago, I didn't even realize Butler University was in Indiana. I knew it was somewhere in the East, but didn't know where. Boston? Nashville? It was like Drexel, Murray State, Siena, Xavier, Robert Morris, and Radford. I had no idea where it was located, and no reason to care.

Now, suddenly, I have another Indiana college for which I'm obligated to root. But don't we Hoosiers have enough already? We've got IU, Purdue, Notre Dame, Indiana State, and Ball State, plus a slew of small Christian colleges. That's plenty to cheer for. But now I have to add Butler. And it's really not a choice, since they did so well. Butler now joins IU and ISU as teams that made it to the NCAA Championship game. In Indiana, that's a big deal.

But look at Michigan. They've got 10 million people, Indiana has 6.5 million. But when you think of colleges, only two come to mind--Michigan University, and Michigan State. Everyone in Michigan can be divided into two groups--MU fans and MSU fans. That makes it easy. Someday, those two groups will engage in a bloody civil war. It's inevitable.

Or think of Arizona, which has a slightly larger population than Indiana. They've got Arizona State and the University of Arizona. That's about it. Throw in Northern Arizona University if you want. Still easy to keep track of. Of course, there's the ubiquitous University of Phoenix, but it doesn't really count in my book, because it mostly exists in cyberspace.

But, I'll squeeze Butler into my fanosphere. They earned it.

In his book "The Bottom Billion," about the world's poorest countries (which I reviewed earlier), Paul Collier writes:

"Elections determine who is in power, but they do not determine how power is used."

In our quest to spread democracy, we tend to place way too much emphasis on elections. Democracy involves a whole system of governance. Third World countries have learned how to hold elections, putting on a show for the world, without really instituting democracy.

Collier says studies show that in countries that successfully turned around, democracy and political rights were not important factors--a result he finds "extremely disappointing." But results are results.

What's really needed, he writes, is political checks and balances.

Without systemic checks and balances, tyrants can rule behind the facade of elections, cloaking themselves in an illusion of legitimacy. Like Hugo Chavez in Venezuela, or Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines (RIP), or that idiot in Iran. Or maybe Hamid Karzai in Afghanistan? Collier says our enthusiasm for elections needs to be joined with enthusiasm for political restraints.

The US (and most western countries) have separate branches of government which provide checks and balances. But a legislature or judicial system can be co-opted by a totalitarian ruler.  Collier cites a free media as the best form of checks and balances. Freedom of the press, which has characterized the US since our founding, is a key indicator of health. As much as we gripe about the media's excesses and biases, it's a crucial part of who we are. When you see a country where the media is free to criticize the government, it's usually a sign of democratic health.

In San Diego, people are rightfully outraged over a convicted sex offender who killed two young women. In 2005, he had been released from prison after serving five years for beating and imprisoning a 13-year-old girl. After three more years on parole, he was basically living free. We hear these stories all the time.

Whenever cases like this arise, people understandably ask how such a person could go free in society, and there are cries for perpetual monitoring or imprisonment. I totally understand the outrage, whether it applies to sex offenders or murderers or other violent criminals.

But I got to thinking--how many thousands upon thousands of people who have committed such crimes and served their time--for sex offenses and violence--are living free and will NOT repeat their crimes? I know a few people who served their time and have not been repeat offenders. They are back in society, living freely and productively.

When someone commits a sex crime, do we want to imprison him for the rest of his life, or perpetually monitor him electronically? We could. But it would overload an already-burdened system.

Is this guy in San Diego an exception, or the norm? I'm asking, because I don't know. The stats show that sexual predators tend to remain sexual predators, and repeat offenders deserve little mercy. But there's only so much we can do (like sex offender registries) after a person has served his time. And a great many convicted criminals do change their lives.

I'm not advocating anything. I'm just wondering out loud. Criminal justice isn't my area of specialty, so a high lack of knowledge accompanies my musings. What should be my attitude, and society's attitude? Do we really want to come down hard on everyone, because of the potential repeat offenders? What's the right approach?

"The War Within" is Bob Woodward's fourth book about the inner workings of the Bush administration during wartime. He was granted a tremendous amount of access, including frequent conversations with George Bush. Bush must have deemed the previous books to be fair, since he kept the door wide open.

Woodward's books are a first draft of history. Right now, the only histories of the Iraq war come from reporters. Down the road, historians will get involved, writing a different kind of book with a broader sweep and time's illuminating perspective. But they will rely heavily on the basic reporting done by Woodward, Thomas Ricks, and others. If you don't want to wait 10-15 years for such a book, read Bob Woodward.

"The War Within" is a chronological account of numerous meetings, conversations, speeches, and anything else related to the war--a huge amount of trenchwork reporting by one of the best. A lot of it seems mundane. But it's all part of the story, all glimpses of history. You see how policy, strategy, and thinking gradually evolved; how ideas arose, and many of them fell by the wayside; and the interplay of personalities and their impact on decisions. It humanizes what happened behind government's closed doors.

Woodward's third book, "State of Denial," ended with the war going badly--a bloody insurgency, the country headed toward civil war, Sunnis and Shiites slaughtering each other, and way too many American soldiers coming home in body bags. Sort of like where Thomas Ricks's "Fiasco" ended.

As "The War Within" begins, everyone knows things are going badly. We're losing, and nobody knows what to do. There is no strategy, hadn't been one since the invasion, and much of the book details the search for one. We see different entities embark on studies to chart a new course--the Iraq Study Committee, the Pentagon, Condi Rice's office, and more. It's depressing to realize that for three years plus, we foundered aimlessly, despite all the optimistic public assurances.

I previously wrote about Atul Gawande's article in the New Yorker, which told about the path various countries have taken to reach national healthcare (that was actually only the beginning part of a lengthy article). The most fascinating case is England, which Gawande describes as the world's most socialized system. England's story is unique, and in no way applies to the United States. And that's part of the point--no two countries start at the same place.

It all began when England declared war on Germany in 1939. In preparing for air attacks, British leaders relocated 3.5 million people to the countryside. They had to ensure that those people were taken care of--food, lodging, schooling...and medical care.

The government also began upgrading and expanding local hospitals, getting ready for the influx of large numbers of wounded civilians and soldiers. No way could private hospitals handle it on their own.

During the war, the government basically had to assume the costs for civilian and military casualties. The 1940 Battle of Britain destroyed large numbers of private hospitals and clinics. Private hospitals were overloaded with non-paying casualties. It was obviously an extraordinary situation.

World War 2 destroyed England's existing system, but the British government, through good planning, managed to maintain a good level of healthcare throughout the war (considering that it was a WAR). Interestingly, the new system ended up being better than the old. The population's health improved, and infant and adult mortality rates declined. Even dental care improved.

The wartime medical service began demobilizing in 1944, but citizens didn't want it to end. Neither did private hospitals, which now relied on government payments. So the government began looking at a permanent national system--which was already pretty much in place. National healthcare was officially instituted in 1948 with barely a whimper of protest.

Interesting case out of Utah. The federal government owns 60% of Utah. The state is going to court, declaring imminent domain to get back some of the land, including a coal-rich plateau; they intend to sell coal rights to fund education. It's probably a hopeless battle, but I'm cheering them on. Because, why does the federal government need to own 60% of Utah?

Or, for that matter:

• 85% of Nevada
• 70% of Alaska
• 53% of Oregon
• 50% of Idaho
• 48% of Arizona
• 45% of California
• 42% of Wyoming and New Mexico

Meanwhile, the feds own less than 1% of Connecticut, Rhode Island, and New York.

I know that big chunks of Arizona are actually Indian reservations, and that comes under the "federal" heading, which skews it. I imagine the same is true of many of these other western states. Then there are military bases, testing grounds, national parks, and areas leased for forestry and mining. But still, there's a states' rights issue here, with land and local economies in need of development.

So...Go Utah!