Home Spun Widsom on Universal Healthcare

Mike Fields, an old friend from college who has had a rather successful career in politics and finance, offers his own unique take on the healthcare debate.

‘Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.”

Big Buck Jones used to say that to a few of my buddies and me when we wished for everything from a lot of money to bikini clad models. Buck would say that and then show us the twenty-one stitches he had received on his arm and eighteen more on his chest from the wish he was granted.

"This ole bear was getting into my hogs. I called him Cronos, after that Greek Titan god that ate all his children,” Buck would say to start his tale. “Anyway, Cronos got in my hog pen, killed my fattest hog and drug him into the swamp. I heard it, but they were gone before I could get outta the house.”

Then Buck would pause and shake his head, “I wished I could be there when that old bear came up, so I got my dog, Zeke, and we waited up on him every night for a week. Zeke wanted a piece of that bear too.”

There was never a dog better than Zeke. “He’s a Heinz 57 mutt,” Buck would say when people asked what kind of dog Zeke was. Buck called him that because that’s how many different flavors of dog he had in him. He was special.

One of Zeke’s back legs was missing as was his right eye, the result of chasing and catching moving stuff. That list ranged from chipmunks to school buses and most things in between. He was old, but had more energy than a puppy. If Buck had told Zeke to “git” an oak tree, he’d gnaw that sucker down. If a stranger came in the yard or near the kids, he would leave running without the seat of his britches.

Hunting was Zeke’s favorite thing and he hunted it all - quail, squirrels, raccoons, deer, rabbits, and ducks. He even went fishing. Buck claimed the dog was a bass pointer and would sniff the water before standing with one front leg cocked in the direction of the largest bass around.

If there were a hall of fame for dogs, Zeke would be in it.

It was a Tuesday night when Buck heard a commotion in the hog pen, yelled, ran to the fallen gate, and faced down Cronos. Buck had remembered his rifle so all he had to do was shoot the bear.

Trouble was, Cronos knew that. Bears are smart in that way and this one knew that in order to keep from becoming a rug he had to take Buck out.

They tell me bears are fast. Twenty yards is the amount of ground Buck claims one can cover before a man raises a rifle to his shoulder and pulls the trigger a second time. Buck knows this because his first shot missed Cronos and took out a hog.

Buck had wanted to get ahold of Cronos, but didn’t think he would be lying on his back when it happened. Zeke was there though and sank his teeth as deeply as he could into Cronos’ shoulder. After being knocked down by the bear, Zeke got up and went back for more. Repeatedly.

For better or worse, Buck’s wife, Bess, knew how to use a shotgun. She shouldered a twelve gauge and stung Cronos with some birdshot first from the back porch, then the oak tree, and finally the fence post.

The last blast was close range and got both Zeke and the bear.

Being shot with birdshot must have hurt because Cronos thought better about his meal of leg o’Buck and beat a hasty retreat.

Fate wasn’t as kind to Zeke. According to the vet there was no way to determine if the dog died from the injuries he sustained from the shotgun blast or the ones he got after being slugged by the bear.

Buck always teared up when he talked about seeing Zeke lying dead next to him. Sometimes he would even start one of those chest-heaving sobs before saying, “Zeke was collateral damage, killed by friendly fire.” Bess slapped him when he said that and claimed it was injuries from fighting the bear that killed Zeke.

Cronos and his cousins kept ravaging the hogs until Buck started losing money raising them. At Bess’s insistence, Buck kept on being a hog farmer until the losses and a few unlucky trips to the casino forced the bank to foreclose on the farm his family had owned for 250 years. Buck and Bess divorced right after that and he moved into a singlewide trailer on the back part of seven acres his son had purchased.

Regarding healthcare, here's what I see:

Buck is the American economy.

Bess is congress’ current healthcare plan.

Cronos is the rising cost of healthcare.

The hogs are the healthcare system.

The bank is China.

You are Zeke.

Be careful what you wish for.