Category: Veterans

“The only thing I would ever want outsourced is this hangover.” — Billy Bob Jobob

No one that I know ever said the above, but they could have.

Outsourcing is one of those “lightning” words. It has the tendency to make the hair stand straight up on your neck just before it knocks you flat, but only after it bores a hole in your skull and blows out the souls of your Nikes.

Ask the average Joe on the street what’s the first thing that comes to their minds upon hearing the words “outsourcing,” and they’re liable to say “India” or “Bangalore.”  To many Americans, too many jobs have been outsourced overseas and the fact is only made worse when you end up with a soulless android that puts you on hold for hours and whose most favored word is “no.”

That is my take on outsourcing as well. But there is domestic outsourcing of the type used by governments because we have ended up with leaders who believe “business” is the way to run the world. Today, it is common to hear a candidate for political office boast that they “ran a business” with X number of employees and a budget of $blank, blank, blank per year. They ran a canning plant. Or a foundry. Maybe they ran a small tech firm. So that entitles them to run a government. Right?

Well, let’s see, can  Mr. Can Man run a fire department and an EMS service and a police department and a water department and a parks and street department of the type he will be asked to help run as a city councilman? Does ensuring a furnace operates just right and overseeing operations which include the molding of metals are made without the employees burning themselves to death guarantee  Mr. Foundry Dude can run a school, manage its curriculum, and teachers and football team?  Would building a better hard drive be a prerequisite for Techo Geek to ensure his congressional constituents get their VA or Social Security check or that he or she could know what is best for the nation’s financial and military establishments? All of these are pretty obvious.

Government and governing that government is a whole different ballgame.

Therefore, it would stand to reason that just because someone is a “bidnessman” does not automatically qualify a man or woman to properly lead, in some form or fashion, a government.

And likewise just because someone has a successful chain of travel agencies wouldn’t specifically make it the best fit for helping a government agency or agencies in assessing and managing their travel needs. But that old outsource bug has already bitten some of our governments long ago. Going on an official trip for a federal agency? You have to use the specified company and their computer software or Web site. Doesn’t corporate solutions make things run smoother, faster and less expensive? Not always. Perhaps not at all.

Some agencies also outsource certain functions, such as payroll, to other federal departments. That isn’t particularly bad although if you need something or a want a question answered the solution may not be just around the corner.

The general public, including public workers, think grueling waits and frustration in dealing with a government agency stinks. It’s called “bureaucracy.” Okay, just imagine that not going anywhere bureaucracy when you are forced to deal with someone from a private company call center with people who know nothing outside the piece of paper over which the two of you discuss?

Fortunately, I haven’t had to deal with this bunch in a few years but I once had to fight my way through what I think is called the Debt Management Center of the Department of Veterans Affairs. I had owed some back bills and the money was taken without my knowledge from federal checks. These were among the most confounding phone people with whom I have ever dealt. These people told me, true or not I am not sure, that they were not allowed to communicate with the personnel at the VA hospitals which I supposedly owed. Does that sound like a shining path to financial solvency or what?

There are other problems beside inefficiency and bad manners that make outsourcing not always the best source for the government or for those whom it serve.  A study by the Economic Policy Institute, a think-tank that focuses on money issues for middle- and low-income Americans, found federally-contracted jobs leave 1-in-5 of its workers in poverty.

“Much of the savings from outsourcing federal projects to private companies doesn’t come from greater efficiency, but rather lower wages and benefits,” said Kathryn Edwards, co-author of EPI’s “Outsourcing Poverty.”

No doubt the business-minded, business-lovin’, business-kissin’, business-fornicating, Republican majority in Congress will continue every effort at their disposal to outsource what federal government they can’t destroy. You think bureaucracy is bad now? Outsourcing will only make it worse.

 

The anxiety over a possible government shutdown this weekend does not seem to phase many people. I know the past shutdowns meant little to me. Of course, things are different now. A good portion, major portion, of my income comes from the government. And I have heard the stories.

One colleague spoke of being furloughed in the 1995 fiasco. He said it didn’t take long for the bills to pile up and “spin out of control.” The result was he had to file for bankruptcy. If a shutdown was to continue for awhile, then creditors themselves might see a little of the financial hurt those government employees and their families could experience.

The pain from a shutdown extends well into communities such as those that make their living off nearby national parks. Can you imagine whole towns having to close their doors while tourists stay away from shuttered major federally-run attractions?

I see the cable news talk show hosts joke about it. The high-minded legislators who say their constituents, read, voters, want severe cuts and don’t mind if they have to shut down the government to get it, must get off on such a power trip. Yes, we are the principled. We hold people’s lives in our hands and we only care if we get our way. Waaaaaahhhhhh! They are like spoiled children, only worse.

There is also a lot of talk that if federal workers are furloughed they will not be paid for their time off as in past go-rounds. That would mean, of course, that the anxiety and pain and suffering would go on and on. The worker bees are all some see. Not seen are their kids, trying to stay cool in school. The car payment might be missed.  The veterans going to college on VA benefits may not get their checks, nor the disabled vets who depend on their pension. And think of how many veterans are government workers? Our country cares for veterans? The hell you say.

One ponders if, the ultra-right get so drunk on their power trip, whose lives could they then hold in their hands once the federally-paid are sent back to work minus pay for their furlough? Oh, they wouldn’t dare mess with the private sector, some might say. But yes, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

We all laugh about when a person says: “We’re from the government. We’re here to help.” But what if those who say that are your fiscally-prudent, anti-brown-skin, anti-union, pro-oligarchy, congressmen, who spout those Tea Party values the people who elected them love to hear?

Well, you”re on your own there.

A waitress approached me as I had lunch today while I was about mid-way through a delicious turkey and jack cheese sandwich called “The Pilgrim.” She asked me if I owned a Toyota Tacoma pickup. I answered “yes,” with some dread that it had been demolished by a hit-and-run driver as it sat in the parking lot of Goode’s Armadillo Palace on Kirby Drive in Houston.

I had eaten at the Armadillo Palace, a bar and grill filled with all kinds of dead animal heads (was that a stuffed pair of bear cubs on the wall? Ewww!) and other crapola, last week when I was last in town for a viscosupplementation injection in my allegedly arthritic knee at the DeBakey Veterans Affairs Hospital. I had to have what was my third and final shot this afternoon, this round at least. The Pilgrim is quite a delight as turkey sandwiches go. In addition to the mesquite-smoked turkey and the jack cheese, is what the menu says is ” … homegrown tomatoes with and baby spinach on a fresh baked wheat bread with chipotle mayonnaise.” I had the fries as a side last time this time I went with the potato chips which appeared to be some type made with cracked pepper and was quite spicy hot.

The waitress said I had parked in a space not meant for parking and was blocking someone’s way to get out. When I went to my truck, it appeared the driver seeking a mean’s of egress had figured out he could exit at the other end of the parking lot. I moved my truck, although there were clearly yellow stripes that had once marked where I had parked as a legitimate parking place. That is why I parked there in the first place.

As I moved my truck into “an approved” parking place a big black SUV with tinted windows pulled up in front of me followed by a black limo. Out of the SUV came a rather menacing man in a dark suit wearing one of those squiggly-wired earpiece radios of the type you see used by the Secret Service agents guarding the president. Having seen the battle tank-like Suburban with the monster bulletproof glass the former president used, I didn’t harbor any ideas that this was the president or even the first lady. Plus I think I saw both of them on TV this morning and they were in Washington or someplace other than Houston. I have seen our illustrious governor, Rick “Goodhair” Perry, in a similar-sized SUV with plainclothes Texas state troopers. However, when this driver opened the door of the utility vehicle and the other driver opened the limo doors, out came what was mostly a crew of seemingly college-aged men and women dressed in very casual attire. One or two of the guys and gals were dressed in Baltimore Ravens shirts and one young man even sported a Ravens jersey.

Now knowing that the Ravens were in Houston last night where they beat by a pick-six in overtime the Charlie Brown-like, hapless Texans, I figured this might be some of the Ravens players and their entourage. I don’t know because I sure didn’t recognize any of them. A couple of guys sitting near me and I talked about the crew that came in who in total seemed to be about a dozen.

“It must really suck to be famous and have no one know who the hell you are,” I remarked to one of the guys, figuring the bodyguarded bunch would probably have to be at least semi-famous to warrant such attention unless they were just incredibly narcissistic. The guy at the end of the bar agreed.

Speaking of narcissistic, as I got up to leave I noticed that a very attractive young lady sitting with the entourage was giving me the “eye.” I know this from my younger days when I got the eye, or perhaps, both of them, much more. The thing was, I couldn’t figure out why. I know I hadn’t spilled my iced tea onto my seat leaving my shorts wet at the butt. Or I hadn’t had a sign stuck on my back that said: “If you see this old man, please have him returned to his family.” So it beats me, but danged if I don’t remember what “the eye” looked like, so that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Having had my brush with fame for the day, I headed down Kirby for the Texas Medical Center and the DeBakey VA Hospital. Having gone to VA clinics and hospitals for more than a decade I can now say that the VA is a collection place for some pretty eccentric  characters. I use that terminology not wishing to cast any aspersions on my fellow veterans, plus I’m sure some of my fellow vets may have thought at some points  in my life that I was pretty weird myself. Perhaps some still do.

One has to be a little bent to tolerate what many feel is a repeat of military service’s “hurry up and wait” routine. But the VA goes beyond even the worse of what I ever experienced in the service in that respect. As is the case at every large VA hospital I have ever visited, parking is always a nightmare. That is still true at DeBakey even though they’ve added new lots and have valet parking, perhaps easing the bad dream at least a bit.

The surgery clinic I visited for the past three weeks — I suppose it’s called that because they either prep you or try to prevent you from having to go through surgery — was crowded. A white board listed each of the clinics with a time written beside it. For instance the injection clinic I came for had “11:00” written on on the board when I arrived meaning they were seeing 11 a.m. patients. This was at 1:30 p.m. It was during my wait here that I heard the best line of the day.

A doctor had come into the waiting room to call her next patient and greeted the man warmly. “How are you doing?” said the female doctor. “You look so great!”

“I’ve tried so hard not to,” the veteran said.

I finally got through and got my shot, which hurt more than the others I had. It also had swollen around the site, which concerned me a bit because the nurses had warned us to stay in the hospital for at least 30 minutes after receiving the shot in case we had a reaction “like falling out,” as one nurse said. No one said anything about that after I had my previous two injections in the past two weeks, so I suppose someone had recently had a reaction. I figured it would take me at least 30 minutes to walk to my truck, although even walking slowly and stopping to take some photos, it still took only 10 minutes or so.

Luckily, I didn’t pass out while driving back the 80  miles to Beaumont, which is a good thing since I had my brush with fame and had a chance to check out my fellow eccentrics (no I’m not rich, just being nice) at the VA.