You just kind of stand there like a cowed dog, don’t you?
You know that pose? I do. I assume it every fall now. I know I’m going to get swatted; I’m just not quite sure how much. It looks like nearly a 20% bump in fixed medical insurance costs for me and my family next year.
We’ve been conditioned to think “well, thank God it’s not more!” Haven’t we? Isn’t that exactly what’s happening? That it’s a fathomable increase—one I can get my brain around—is supposed to be enough. That’s a victory.
Are anyone’s insurance costs going down next year? Are anyone’s even staying the same? If so, let me hear from you.
I have a bit more research to do this year, too, which was most of what was so offensive to me about Obamacare’s Pajama Boy. If you’ll recall, the directives were:
Wear pajamas. Drink hot chocolate. Talk about getting health insurance.
Well, no. I don’t want to. Health insurance is the sort of drudgery I want to be on vacation from over the Christmas holidays. I think it’s pretty damned bent to sit around and discuss federal mandates during leisure time with family and friends, and I think it’s unnerving and sick for my government to have a marketing campaign designed to persuade me to do so.
Despite ample promises to the contrary, Obamacare has done nothing to contain costs. In fact, it’s had exactly the opposite effect. The $10 Band-Aid, the $1,500 ambulance ride, the $10,000 baby delivery—they’ve all just settled into the narrative, haven’t they? Sheesh, these things are expensive. Thank God we have insurance! Thank God the government looks out for us!
Nothing Our Betters have done in the name of “protecting” us has fostered innovation or competition, so we’ll have no cost relief anytime soon. The law implicitly asks “how can we help a person pay for a $10 Band-Aid?” when the law should be asking “why is there such a thing as a $10 Band-Aid?”
I shouldn’t have to think about medical insurance to the degree that I do. None of us should. The proper vision is insurance companies competing for us, not us feeling relieved when we don’t get screwed quite as hard as we might have.