Hauling Water

When the water stopped running…and what I did about it.

I first heard about the problem when I got an email sent out to all members of the road maintenance association on February 8:

The water main has frozen at the S turn near Lot 7. Neighbors are experiencing very low or no water. Malaga Water district has reviewed the situation and believes it will stay frozen until thaw.

They have offered to get 5 gallon water jugs to the Malaga Water district HQ and make them available to us if needed.

I was in Arizona at the time, in transit between Wickenburg and Willow Beach on the Colorado River, where I’d camp for two nights and soak in a wonderful desert hot spring. It was t-shirt weather on a beautiful sunny day. It was the final month of my 2016/17 winter snowbirding trip south and I didn’t plan on getting back to my home in Washington for another month. The email message sent me a mixed message: “stay frozen until thaw” sounded like a long-term issue but “water jugs…available to us if needed” sounded like hauling in water might not be needed.

I should mention here that this isn’t the first time this has happened. It’s the third. The last time was eight years ago — years before I bought my lot — and the line stayed frozen until March 22. When it finally defrosted, the water company supposedly put a concrete “blanket” over the pipe and reburied it. They assumed the problem had been solved when it didn’t happen again.

Until this year.

Winter Weather
Mean temperature percentiles per the National Weather Service. Find more info here.

This has been an unusually cold winter here in the Pacific Northwest. While it was warmer than average nearly everywhere else in country, the northwestern United States, including all of Washington state, has been colder. There’s also been a ton of snow, some of which remains on my driveway in front of my car garage after having slid off the roof multiple times all winter. More than a few of my friends in the area made a point of telling me that I picked a good winter to go away. (Little do they realize that I plan on going away most winters.)

Cathedral Rock Road
A satellite view of my road with the cliff to the south. The originally suspected problem area is in yellow; the actual problem area is in orange. I live nearly a mile east of this spot.

Making the problem worse is that the water line runs under our privately maintained road, which gets zero direct sunlight for months at a time in the winter. Why? Because it’s on the north side of a nearly sheer 1000-foot cliff. Because of our northern latitude, the sun doesn’t rise high enough in the sky in the winter to clear the cliff, leaving the road in shadow. I’ve observed this phenomena at my own home and blogged about it here. My place, which is farther north of the cliff than the road and many of my neighbors, is in the shadows for just six weeks; the problem area of the road is in the shadows for more than two months.

Time went on. I continued my trip northwest through Death Valley and eventually to the Sacramento area. I flew back to Arizona to fetch my helicopter, which would be on a frost contract in that area for two months. I tried to have fun in “sunny California,” but it seemed to rain more often than not. I got a temporary job helping a friend with his spray operations. But the whole time I was in California, I was feeling homesick and wanted to go home.

I checked in with my next door neighbor regularly. The water still wasn’t flowing. She and her family of five were showering at the Y. They made weekly trips to the laundromat. At first, they melted show for toilet water; now they were hauling it.

But by March 12, I’d had enough of my extended road trip. I began the drive home, taking a leisurely route up the California coast with the idea of getting in on March 17. The trip was great — at least the first few days — but then the weather turned nasty. I pointed my rig inland on March 15 and rolled down my driveway the following day.

There was still no water.

Of course, my camper had water. I also had my four 6-1/2 gallon water jugs with me. I’d stopped at the water company office to top everything off. I figured I could always use the camper’s toilet and shower.

But I didn’t want to. I wanted to use a real toilet and shower.

I hauled water up the stairs in those 6-1/2 gallon jugs for a few days. During my travels, I’d rigged up a DC pump with hoses to transfer water from the jugs into my camper without having to lift the jugs; I now put that to work in my kitchen so I could wash silverware and pots with “running” water. (I was using paper plates.)

My neighbor, Elizabeth, had a well with a broken pump. She had the pump fixed and invited neighbors to shower at her place. I took her up on that offer. She has a nice shower in her guest bathroom. I also filled water jugs there.

But when March 22 came and went, I’d had enough. I needed a better solution.

Water Tank
Tanks like these are designed to fit in the back of a pickup truck for transporting water.

My neighbors, Al and Kathy, have a winery (and a well). The previous autumn, I’d noticed that they had a water hauling tank sitting neglected and unused in their yard near their burn pile. I’d asked if they were using it and was told they weren’t. I asked about buying it — with the crazy idea of gathering water for irrigation off my huge roof — and they said yes. But I hadn’t done anything about it then.

Fortunately, it was still sitting there in March, nestled in the snow. I asked again. The 425 gallon tank had never been used — in fact, it didn’t even have fittings or a valve at the bottom. Other than cobwebs and a bit of organic matter, it was pretty clean. I bought it for $100 — what a deal! I just found the same tank online for $332 — and Al and another neighbor, JR, loaded it onto my truck. I used a ratchet tie down to prevent it from sliding out the back.

I followed JR’s suggestion and brought it down to the car wash where I cleaned the inside as well as possible with a power washer.

I went to a local irrigation supply place and spent $25 on a valve and fittings to connect it to a standard garden hose.

I went on Amazon and spent $80 on a Shurflo pressure regulated pump that would automatically shut off when there was no demand for water. The trick was finding one with enough power to get the water up about 15 feet to my second floor living space. And I spent another $10 on fittings to attach that to a standard garden hose. And another $5 to turn the pump’s loose wires into a plug.

By Saturday, March 25 — nine days after returning home — I was ready.

Flashback: Howard Mesa 2005

My wasband and I used to own an off-the-grid camping cabin on 40 acres of land in northern Arizona. That area is notorious for its low water table and nearly everyone up there hauls their own water — including us.

Water could be purchased from a vending machine off the main road between Valle and Williams. You’d pull your tank up under it, set the hose in the top of the tank, and stick a $10 bill into the vending machine. 450 gallons of water would immediately gush out of the hose and into the tank.

Hauling Water in the Chevy

I remember hauling water once using a neighbor’s tank like the one I have now. The truck would be pretty stable until I hit about 50 miles per hour. At that point, the sloshing would make it difficult to control and I’d have to slow down. I only did it once or twice — it was a vacation home and we had 2,100 gallons of water storage up there — but can’t imagine what it must have been like to do it several times a week for a family.

I went to Elizabeth’s house with my new tank and wrenches and fittings and some plumbers tape and set the valve and fittings into the tank. I turned off the valve so the tank would hold water.

I ran Elizabeth’s garden hose to the top of the tank and turned on the water.

The tank holds more than 400 gallons. It takes a long time to pump 400 gallons from a garden hose. I sat in my truck and read the newspaper. Every once in a while, the truck would creak and shift as the weight of the water settled it lower and lower on its axles. Do the math: 400 gallons x 8 pounds per gallon = 3,200 pounds.

Tank on the Truck
Here’s the tank on my truck, parked on my driveway after yesterday’s refill.

At about 300 gallons, I got tired of waiting and turned off the water. I put the cap back on the tank and started the drive home. The water sloshed, making the truck feel somewhat unstable. But it was a short drive — only about a mile — and I didn’t go very fast. I backed the truck up on my concrete apron in front of my big garage door. I threw about a half cup of bleach into the tank to prevent algae from growing in it.

I noticed a slight leak from the fittings. Not much; maybe three drips per minute. I tried tightening up the fittings but didn’t see much improvement.

Pump
Here’s the pump after mounting it on a piece of scrap wood and propping it up so the water leaks away from it. I think that when this is all over, I’ll rework the fittings and permanently mount it near the hose bib.

I connected a garden hose from the tank and ran it into the garage. Then I connected it to the pump. That’s where I had some difficulty. You see, Shurflo pumps are designed to be used with Shurflo fittings. Although the manual said it should connect to a standard 1/2 inch pipe fitting, it didn’t thread exactly right. I had a bitch of a time getting it set up — on both sides of the pump. Eventually, however, I got it connected for inflow and outflow and connected the outflow end to a hose bib in my garage.

Water Source
I call this my Frankenstein monster. Water comes into my home through the black pipe on the right through a valve (off in this photo) and then into a number of PEX fittings that bring it down to 3/4 inch. From there, it goes up into my home as well as to the right through another valve (on in this photo) to my hose bib. My first plumbing job. Hey, it works.

This is where things are a little non-standard. Regular readers might recall that I lived in my RV inside the garage for the winter before my living space was done. When I set up the water system in my building, I included a hose fitting with its own valve that I was able to use to feed water to my camper. It can also be used to drain all the water out of my home’s plumbing system. So I was already set up for water input, although I hadn’t ever expected to use the valve this way. I just shut off the water from the street into my building and turned on the valve between my building and the hose attached to the pump. Then I plugged in the pump.

It ran. It ran for well over a minute. I was just beginning to wonder whether it would automatically shut off when the system was fully pressurized when it stuttered a few times and went quiet.

I went upstairs and flushed the toilet. (I have my priorities straight.) The tank had fill automatically and was filling again.

There was water at the sink faucet.

I came back downstairs to look at the pump. It was leaking at both fittings. I wasn’t surprised. Still, I knew I’d done the best that I could. (Later, I’d order Shurflo fittings and wind up not using them when they arrived. If it ain’t broke…)

I mounted the pump on a piece of scrap wood and angled it up so the water would drip away from the pump. There’s a drain in my garage so the water would eventually find its way out.

Then I turned on the water heater. (I’d had a friend turn it off while I was away when I heard there was no water. I was slightly concerned that the water would somehow drain out and burn up my heating element. None of that happened.) I’d have my first hot shower at home later in the day.

I figured that since I had come up with a solution, the water would come back the next day. But no, there’s still no water to the homes on our road.

Since then, it’s been pretty much business as usual at my house. I turn on the tap and water comes out. I do laundry and use the dishwasher. I shower and wash up. I am a bit more thoughtful about letting the water run and I admit that I haven’t filled up my 80-gallon bathtub yet.

The only difference is that I don’t drink the tap water. I have bottled water for making coffee, cooking, and drinking.

That first tank of water lasted me nearly a week. Yesterday, I drove out to Elizabeth’s again. While the tank filled with water, I helped her install chicken wire at the top of her chicken coop to prevent birds of prey from getting in or chickens from getting out. This time, I let it the water go almost to the top. It must have taken at least a half hour to fill. Back home, I connected the hose to the tank, turned on the pump again, and was good to go.

Is this a hardship? Not with this solution. Living a week without running water was driving me nuts — and I had to come up with a solution. It’s unfortunate, however, that my truck is tied up with water duty. I need to buy some lumber for a project and will have to drag my old cargo trailer behind my Jeep to get the lumber home.

It’s been nearly two months now since the water stopped running and some of my neighbors have been dealing with it — without a solution like mine — for that long. I don’t know how they’re doing it.

The problem was in the paper about a week ago. The water company says it can’t dig until the water starts flowing again. When they do dig, it’ll be quite a mess since there’s only one way in and out on this road and the pipe runs right down the middle.

In the meantime, my neighbors are confident that the problem will be fixed for good. I’m not that optimistic. But I am prepared for next time.

April 2, 2017 Update: I got a call from a neighbor at 6:30 AM. He jubilantly announced that the water was back on. Although I’m thrilled that our little ordeal is over, I’m left wondering what I’m going to do with the 350 gallons of water in the tank on the back of my truck…

April 3, 2017 Update: I found a home for all that water! One of my neighbors needed to do a water change in his fish pond and was thrilled to get 350 gallons that he didn’t have to run from his tap.

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Good Advice from a Raven

My life philosophy summed up…on a bookmark.

I was in Death Valley National Park in February for the second year in a row. I spent about a week exploring some of the less visited parts of the park, including Ibex Dunes and the Racetrack. I’m really loving having a truck camper for my winter travels rather than the big fifth wheel I used to haul around. It really makes it easier to explore and to camp comfortably in remote places while waiting for changes in weather or light for photography.

I did spend a little time at Furnace Creek, which is the center of tourism in the park. In addition to having two meals at the Inn at Furnace Creek‘s excellent restaurant, I visited the Ranger Station. I had some questions about roads and camping and there’s nothing better than asking a ranger. While I was in there, I took a look at some of the gift shop items. I’m always on the lookout for small educational items for my neighbor’s autistic grandson — I got him some neat science exploration items at the North Cascades National Park last year — and odds and ends to help me remember the trip.

I was feeling more spendy than usual that day, mostly because rumors were flying about the Trump administration cutting budgets for National Parks and selling off public land for private use. I wanted to support the parks beyond buying my annual pass every year. I picked out a t-shirt and a refrigerator magnet and a book about night photography. And then I saw the “Advice” bookmarks.

I need to point out that I very seldom read printed books these days. I’ve come to prefer ebooks and have been making use of the ebook loans available from the two libraries I’m a member of. So a bookmark is a very silly thing for me to buy.

But what captured my attention on the bookmarks was the bullet point pieces of “advice.” I looked at a few of them and agreed that many of the points were things I believed and would share with friends as advice. But each of them also shared a few points that I didn’t necessarily agree with. For example, “Advice from a Tree” suggested “Sink your roots into the Earth.” Anyone who knows me can verify that I never do that. Indeed, I get bored wherever I am after about 10 years. “Advice from a Bat” included “Enjoy the nightlife.” Again, anyone who really knows me knows that I’m a morning person and seldom indulge in late night activities.

bookmark.jpg“Advice from a Raven” was different, though. Each of its seven points rang true with me:

  • Be curious. I am always asking questions and trying to learn new things.
  • Use your wits. I enjoy solving problems — stay tuned for the upcoming blog post on how I recently solved my water problem — and thinking things through.
  • Don’t be a picky eater. Do I even need to explain this? I’ll try anything at least once.
  • Take time to play. Half a year should be enough time, eh?
  • Be adaptable. When life serves me lemons, I make lemonade. I’ve been served a lot of lemons over the past ten to fifteen years and have reinvented myself as necessary to move forward.
  • Make your voice heard. I think I’ve taken this one too seriously at times; voicing my opinion has occasionally gotten me in trouble. But if you don’t speak up, how are people to know what you really think? Honesty is the best policy.
  • Don’t let life ruffle your feathers. This one took some learning, but I got some pretty good lessons about five years ago, continuing until recently. I used to get angry, but now I don’t. This actually reminds me of another quote I saw somewhere: “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s about learning how to dance in the rain.”

It was worth $3 to remind me not only of this good advice for anyone, but of my 2017 Death Valley adventure. So I bought it.

I’ve always liked ravens. They are one of the most intelligent animals. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat quietly in a remote, off-trail location at the Grand Canyon, just watching them fly or interact with each other. And how many times I’ve heard the sound of the wind in their wings in the utter silence of my old northern Arizona vacation cabin.

I don’t often see ravens here. We have magpies instead. They’re prettier but don’t seem to have the same personality.

If you’re interested in seeing other bookmarks and souvenir items in this series, check out the shop at Your True Nature website.

Our Government In Action: Commercial Drone Pilot Rating Edition

How much more inconvenient can they make it?

Mavic Pro
My flying camera takes amazing still and video photos.

Regular readers of this blog might know that I bought a Mavic Pro flying camera back in January 2017. Before spending the money, I did my homework on FAR Part 107, which sets forth rules and regulations for commercial sUAS (small Unmanned Aerial Systems, AKA drones) operations. The certification process was pretty simple for existing pilots: study the rules, take an online training course, pass the test at the end of the course, and submit an application to the FAA for the sUAS rating to be added to my existing pilot certificate. I did all of this on December 20, 2016.

I fully expected to get some kind of correspondence from the FAA in the mail. Although some of my mail was forwarded to me while I was traveling this winter, not all of it was. Still, I didn’t get anything from the FAA for this in my forwarded mail or the mail held for me at home. Nothing.

Yesterday, I revisited the process, certain that I had neglected to do something. I followed the trail of multiple websites to find the place where I had filled in my application. I logged in and reviewed the application, which was dated 12/20/16 with a status of “Submitted by Applicant.” There were no additional instructions or useful information to tell me what I needed to do next or whether my application was even being processed.

I made four phone calls. Eventually, I got a guy at the FAA’s Spokane FSDO (Flight Standards District Office). For those of you unfamiliar with that kind of FAA office, its basically a regional office handling local FAA matters like aircraft and pilot certifications and airport operations. He told me that all I had to do was take my printed application to the FSDO and have someone there check my ID. They could then print out a certificate.

I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. I had to drive to Spokane — which is 3 hours away by car — and show my driver’s license to someone in the office to prove I was who I said I was? So I’d need to spend six hours of my day, plus whatever time it took in Spokane, just to verify my identity?

Yep. Or I could go to the Seattle FSDO in Renton, WA (also 3 hours each way). Or the Portland FSDO in Hillsboro, OR (5-1/2 hour each way).

Of course, if I knew a DPE (Designated Pilot Examiner) who was closer, I could pay him to verify my identity and let him submit the paperwork. Although the FAA guy didn’t say this, I knew what would happen next: the paperwork would disappear into a black hole at the FAA for another three months.

As you might imagine, this completely floors me. In the past few years, I have made numerous very large banking and real estate transactions, each of which required positive identification, entirely via the Internet. Hangar sale, house sale, land sale, loan applications, wire transfers. Transactions worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in total, all requiring that I be identified before completing the transaction.

Why is it that the banks and title companies I worked with were able to verify my identity online when the FAA — which already has the name, address, phone number, and social security number associated with my existing pilot certificate — can’t?

Part 107 Explained
Want to become a commercial drone pilot? Start by learning all about the FAA’s Part 107. This book will help. Buy the ebook edition on Amazon or from Apple. Or buy the paperback edition on Amazon.

Apparently, it’s because the FAA treats this as a brand new pilot certificate instead of an add-on rating. It doesn’t matter that they know who I am because they meet up with me at least once a year for my Part 135 certificate. I still have to jump through this ridiculous and meaningless hoop.

Just to get a piece of paper to make my commercial drone pilot operations legal. In the meantime, hundreds, if not thousands, of drone pilots are out there doing the same kind of work that I want to do without any kind of certification. Heck, I’m willing to bet that at least half of them haven’t even bothered to register their drones.

Is there any wonder why people break the rules? Could it be because the rules are ridiculous and cumbersome to follow?

So today I’ll pull my little Honda out of the garage. I’ll gas it up in town and hit the highway. I’ll drive all the way to Spokane and visit the fine folks in the FSDO there. They’ll look at my license and they’ll check a few boxes on the form I’ve printed out for their convenience. Then they’ll go into a back room and punch some keys on a computer keyboard. Moments later, a piece of paper — my temporary certificate, I guess? — will come out of a printer. They’ll hand it to me and I’ll begin the long drive back home, stopping for gas again along the way.

A whole day of my time blown.

In a few weeks (or months?), I’ll get a new plastic card from the FAA’s main office in Oklahoma. I’ll slip it in to my wallet with my existing pilot certificate — another card to carry around all the time.

But at least I’ll be legal to do commercial drone photography. That’s a lot more than I can say about a lot of the other drone pilots out there.

It Takes Money to Make Money

A simple fact too many folks don’t seem to understand.

The other day, I was at a social gathering with a bunch of friends and neighbors. Conversation turned to a good friend of mine with a very large, underutilized garage. I mentioned that during the winter, he rents out storage space for the season to people with boats, RVs, and other vehicles not likely to be used in the winter. This brings in some extra cash for his winter travels to the south.

“What a great idea!” one of my neighbors said. She turned to another member of the group. “See? There are all kinds of ways people can make money. I don’t see why we should be paying for them.”

I could tell that she’d used my story to continue a conversation she’d had earlier with other people in the group. But she was missing an important point.

“It’s all about assets,” I said. I told the group about how I’m currently being paid to have my helicopter parked in a snug hangar in California in case it’s needed. Yes, I’m bringing in cash without seeming to do anything. But the asset that’s making that possible has cost me more than a half million dollars in the past 13 years to buy, maintain, overhaul, and insure. It’s not as if I’m getting money for nothing.

MoneyThe same goes for my friend. If he didn’t have that big garage, could he rent out space to boat owners? No. What did it cost him to build that garage? Maintain it? Insure it? All that costs money.

The sharing economy has given us all kinds of ways to bring in a little cash on the side. It’s no secret that before I sold my big fifth wheel, I parked on my driveway and rented it out on AirBnB for $89/night with a two-night minimum. I had people in it nearly every weekend that summer. But could I have done that if I didn’t have the fifth wheel? Or acreage with an amazing view and a full RV hookup? What did it cost me to buy the fifth wheel and land? And set up the power, sewer, and water hookups? All that costs money.

And then there’s Uber and Lyft, two ride-sharing companies. Yes, you can drive people around and get paid for it. But to do that, you need a car that meets certain requirements for age and style and that car has to be insured. All that costs money.

The conversation didn’t go this far. It moved on to other things before I could make this point. It didn’t matter. I like my neighbors, even though I think some of them are politically misguided, and didn’t want to ruin the evening with a possibly heated debate. We’re among the fortunate Americans. Neither rich nor poor, we are homeowners on the downhill slope of life, able to take care of all of our needs with a little left over for extras. Life’s not easy, but it certainly isn’t hard.

Yet some of us understand what it’s like for the people who struggle to get by. We empathize, possibly because we’ve been in their shoes in the past. We don’t expect them to produce money out of thin air with creative use of assets they couldn’t possibly afford when they’re having enough trouble putting a roof over their head and food on the table. We don’t mind paying a little extra in our taxes to help them with social services programs or, even more importantly, to fully fund our school systems to help their kids get a path out of poverty through education.

But it’s the mindset of my friend — the complete lack of understanding of how difficult it can be for certain people to earn a decent living — that bothers me. It’s an almost “let them eat cake” moment. And sadly, it’s shared by far too many Americans these days.

Shouldn’t We All Be Able to Get Affordable Health Care?

A quick addendum to an earlier post.

I’m one of many Americans who is glad the Trump/Ryan American Health Care Act (AHCA or TrumpCare) failed to come to a vote. I didn’t think it was in the best interest for people like me and I really believe it would be catastrophic for folks in lower income situations who are struggling to afford health care.

Recently, I’ve come to realize that the people who support a repeal of the Affordable Care Act (ACA or ObamaCare) are those who don’t benefit from it. These are people with decent incomes who, most likely, get health insurance from their employers. In their mind, they shouldn’t be “subsidizing” health care for those who don’t get it from their employers — mostly because they think these people are unemployed or otherwise sponging off the system.

That isn’t true. Millions of people who benefit from the ACA are hardworking people who don’t have insurance benefits through an employer — including self-employed individuals like me.

While people who work for big companies can get health insurance as easily as filling out a form and handing it in to their employer’s Human Resources department, the rest of us have to literally shop for insurance to find policies that meet our needs with a premium we can afford. Then we have to fill out forms and submit them for approval. In the old days, we might have to connect insurance companies with our doctors so they could look through health records. That’s how I got denied insurance coverage for a “pre-existing condition” that didn’t exist, as I blogged last week.

ACA LogoThe ACA made it easier to shop for insurance by setting up a marketplace. It prevented insurers from denying coverage or setting unreasonable rates for people with pre-existing conditions. It required insurers to provide a list of basic coverages that a person might need. It covered, at no additional cost to insured people, annual well-care visits to help prevent illnesses or to catch them before they became serious problems. It required more employers to offer health care benefits to employees. It encouraged everyone to get health insurance coverage to increase the pool of insured individuals, thus reducing the overall cost of coverage for each of us. It prevented insurers from taking obscene profits on healthcare coverage by setting maximum profit levels that actually refunded premiums to customers. These are all benefits that help those of us who don’t work for big companies that offer health insurance in a benefits package.

The people who think the provisions of the ACA aren’t needed are either mistaken, ignorant, or just plain selfish.

Why should only those people who sign up with a big employer get affordable health care insurance? Why shouldn’t small business owners like me be able to get it? Why shouldn’t the 58-year-old former banker with a BBA who’s lucky to have a part-time job as an aircraft refueler at the local airport be able to get it? Why shouldn’t the single mother cleaning offices on the night shift be able to get it?

What pissed me off this morning was a Trump supporter named Linda Caudill who, when interviewed by NPR, said:

Frankly, health care is not a constitutional right. But I really would like personally that government get our of health care altogether and let the free market take care of it.

Wow. Just wow.

Health care might not be a “constitutional right,” but isn’t it a human right? Shouldn’t we all be able to get the care we need to stay healthy, productive, and happy?

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness isn’t in the Constitution either, but our country’s existence was based on those “unalienable rights” for all of us. Isn’t the ability to get affordable health care part of this?

I’d love to hear how this woman’s song would change if she or her husband suddenly lost the job that’s obviously providing them with the health care they need. No one in the middle class who has to buy health insurance on the open market would share her point of view. No one.

What these people need is a dose of reality. How about a health care plan that does not allow employers to offer health insurance plans? One that forces everyone to be on the same playing field, buying insurance on the open market. Then we’ll see how Trump supporters feel about “free market” insurance.

Until then, I’m glad the ACA has survived to help me get the insurance I need for my health and and peace of mind.