Health Care: How the U.S. Stacks Up

Very disturbing info from National Geographic.

A Twitter friend of mine, @BWJones, tweeted a link to a graphic that clearly showed three disturbing things when comparing the U.S. to other developed nations:

  • People in the U.S. spend far more for health care than any other nation.
  • People in the U.S. visit doctors fewer times than many other nations.
  • People in the U.S. have a lower than average life expectancy.

As summarized in “The Cost of Care“:

The United States spends more on medical care per person than any country, yet life expectancy is shorter than in most other developed nations and many developing ones. Lack of health insurance is a factor in life span and contributes to an estimated 45,000 deaths a year.

What does that say about America?

Click here to read the article and see the graphic.

What’s New Here is Something Old

I finally get around to adding the rest of my original blog content to this blog.

I started blogging back in October 2003. Back then, I used a blogging software program called iBlog that created blog pages in plain old HTML. It worked okay but I soon outgrew it and switched to WordPress.

The trouble is, I used iBlog for more than two years, accumulating hundreds of posts. Although I was able to export those posts to XML, getting them properly formatted with their images and importing them into WordPress was extremely tedious and time-consuming. I worked on it periodically for months. And then I gave up.

This week, I’m prepping for a new book based on a collection of my blog posts. I realized that the best way to make sure I didn’t miss any of them was to get them all online on An Eclectic Mind. So I sat down and completed the tedious chore of importing the last bunch of posts, all of which have lots of photos and date from January 2004 to June 2005.

Here’s a list of what I added:

  • On Close Calls
    Why a control tower clearance is something to be taken with a grain of salt. October 9, 2004
  • Through the Magic of Photoshop…
    I get a photographic image of a helicopter that hasn’t been built yet. November 7, 2004
  • A Trip to California
    I take a trip to California with my family to see Zero-Mike-Lima. November 24, 2004
  • People are Pigs
    A tenant moves out and I am amazed by the way some people live. December 2, 2004
  • A Trip to Quartzsite
    I have a nice flight to Quartzsite and back with some pilot friends. January 17, 2005
  • Air-to-Air
    An air-to-air photo shoot gives mixed results. January 24, 2005
  • Exploring the Desert by Helicopter
    We wander through a mill site, fly over an open pit mine, get a hamburger in the middle of nowhere, and see the “land now” light four miles short of home. February 5, 2005
  • A Trip to Phantom Ranch
    We take a mule ride to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, spend two nights, and return to civilization. March 5, 2005
  • My Trip to Georgetown
    I take Zero-Mike-Lima on a long cross country trip to take care of business and visit some friends. May 8, 2005
  • Red Mountain
    We “walk inside a mountain” near Flagstaff. June 1, 2005
  • Could it be? A building at our place on Howard Mesa?
    Our soon-to-be cabin was finally delivered to Howard Mesa. June 5, 2005

Flashback: October 14, 1998

The day I started learning to fly helicopters.

Jeppeson Log BookAt the end of 2008, I finished — that is, completely filled — my first Jeppeson Professional Pilot Logbook. The book documents the first eleven calendar years of my pilot experience.

I bought the book on the day of my first flight lesson. My instructor, Paul, said that the flight school sold two of them. He recommended the big, Jeppeson book. It was more expensive than the smaller alternative, but it was also more impressive. As he wrote the entry for my very first flight, I wondered how long it would take to fill the whole book.

Eleven years. 2033 hours of flight time. (It’s a big book.)

The first entry was for October 14, 1998:

Aircraft Make and Model: R22
Aircraft Ident: 4030C
From/To: CHD-L07-CHD
Total Duration of Flight: 0.9
Rotorcraft Helicopter: 0.9
Landings: Day: 2
Dual Received: 0.9

Paul’s signature and CFI certificate number appear in the Remarks and Endorsements column, along with the cryptic codes A-F, K. I consulted the “cheat sheet” that the flight school used to code entries and discovered that we’d practiced the following:

A: Hovering, hovering turns
B: Lift Off / Set Down
C: Normal Take Off
D: Normal Approach
E: Maximum Performance Take Off
F: Steep Approach
K: Straight In Autorotations

I don’t remember very much about that first flight — after all, it happened more than twelve years ago — but I do remember a few things.

The preflight seemed to take forever. We used a two-sided checklist and Paul ran me through every single item. He’d help me preflight for the first three or four lessons. Then it was up to me to do it on my own. I think I surprised him a few times when I found potential problems in an aircraft that was still warm from the previous flight.

Paul handled all radio communications. During that first lesson, I had no idea what he was saying. I distinctly recall wondering who Juliet was and why he mentioned her when talking to the tower that first time.

Paul lifted off from the school’s helipad, climbed out, and got us in level flight before turning over any of the controls. When he did, he turned them over one-by-one. The sensitivity of the cyclic amazed me — it didn’t take much to get the helicopter moving in a direction I didn’t want to go.

Paul brought us in to the practice area at Memorial Field, southwest of Chandler Municipal. Memorial was on land owned by the Gila River Indian Community. It had two runways (03/21 and 12/30), neither of which were in good condition. But they were fine for helicopter practice and only a 8-minute flight from Chandler. Few other people used the airport and we’d normally have it to ourselves or share it with another helicopter student pilot. Not long ago, the Indians closed the airport to helicopter use. I don’t know where the new students at Chandler practice now.

We practiced hovering. Or, more accurately, he showed me how to hover and I tried to do it. It seemed impossible. I remember Paul telling me that it normally took students 5 to 10 hours of practice time to be able to hover. It wouldn’t be until our eighth flight, a month later, that I finally got the knack with about 7.5 hours under my belt.

He demonstrated an autorotation. I felt my stomach do a somersault. The whole thing happened very fast. At the bottom, he brought back the power, pulled pitch, and left us hovering right where he’d said we’d be.

Afterwards, back at the flight school, we talked about what we’d done. I was still optimistic, even about hovering. I was excited, even though I had no real idea of what I was doing.

Over the next few lessons, I’d develop and then get over motion sickness while trying to hover. I’d ask Paul what percentage of students actually got their pilot certificates and be told that fewer than half finished. My optimism about hovering would turn to pessimism. And then, when I could suddenly hover, I knew I’d be able to finish.

But averaging just two hours of dual time a week, I knew I was not on the fast track.

On Internet Petitions, Virtual Marches, and Slacktivism

Want to make a difference? Get off your ass and do something.

Yesterday, I got an e-mail from an acquaintance who was spreading the word about Fair Tax and the Online Tax Revolt. It said, in part:

This email is for everyone who pays federal income tax. This is NOT about politics. High taxes affect EVERYONE. The tax system is broken – Help fix it! I have never sent such a large mass email, but this is so important for America that I hope you will forgive this one, short intrusion into your life.

I am doing these things
1)I am learning about the FairTax (See for yourself: http://www.fairtax.org/ )
2)I am showing my support by joining the April 15th online march to Washington; I can’t make it in person, but I can make it from my computer (See for yourself: www.OnlineTaxRevolt.com )
3)I am telling everyone that I know

I am asking your help. Please, please, please help. Learn about the FairTax, show your support for the online march and spread the word. Every American can help in this way.

In a way, I guess I’m helping him spread the word. But that’s not my purpose here. My purpose is to discuss slacktivism.

What is Slacktivism?

Slacktivism, as defined by Wikipedia, is:

Slacktivism (sometimes slactivism) is a portmanteau formed out of the words slacker and activism. The word is a pejorative term that describes “feel-good” measures, in support of an issue or social cause, that have little or no practical effect other than to make the person doing it feel satisfaction. The acts also tend to require little personal effort from the slacktivist.

I recommend reading the entire entry. It includes examples of what qualifies as slacktivism, just in case you’re not clear on it. It also includes several links to other resources that make good reading, if you’re interested in how words are created and come into our vocabulary.

Internet Petitions and Virtual Marches are Slacktivist Efforts

This isn’t the first time I’ve received an appeal to join an online effort in support or denial of some cause. I usually get petitions — I can’t tell you how many I’ve received over the years. Snopes.com has a great page about Internet petitions that uses the word slacktivism. If you read it, you’ll learn that “signing” something online is a complete waste of time — for you, anyway. What it does do is add your information to a mailing list that the person who started the petition can use for whatever he needs/wants to, which might include spam or selling to spammers.

Read More Here about Slacktivism
I’ve written about slacktivism in the past, but I just didn’t have a name for it. Interested in reading a couple of my classic rants? Try “Support Our Troops” (1/23/05) and “Support Our Troops” (11/25/07). (Honestly, until today I didn’t realize these posts had the same name. They are, however, ranting about different things, both related to the brave men and women we’ve sent to the Middle East.)

Now I’m not saying that all people who start Internet petitions are spammers. I believe that some of these people really do think they’re making a difference. And I’m pretty sure the people who forward the petitions to me via e-mail think they’re making a difference, too.

But the brutal truth is that slacktivism does not get results. What gets results is repeatedly writing to legislators and sending it via snail mail (to start a paper trail), physically attending meetings and marches that get mainstream media attention, and volunteering your time and efforts at events that help spread the word and fire other people up to do the same. These are not slacktivist efforts. They take a real commitment to a cause that goes beyond five minutes of your time. They prove you’re serious and really want to make a difference.

Sending an e-mail message to everyone in your address book imploring them to submit their name, address, and zip code to a Web site to join a virtual march does nothing but make you feel as if you’re doing something — and possibly annoy the people in your address book who know better or don’t share your views.

I’ve Been There — I Know

I was a local activist here in Wickenburg for several years. I went to Town Council and Committee meetings and spoke up. I started petitions and got signatures. I wrote letters to the editor of the local paper and articles on my site about the town, wickenburg-az.com. I attended citizen action group meetings and helped them create materials to spread the word.

On some issues, we really did make a difference. When a developer tried to con the town into handing over our rodeo grounds so they could put a golf course on the land, I was one of about 100 people who attended a Planning and Zoning Meeting and spoke up against it. The developer was unprepared for the onslaught and didn’t have much to say in defense of his plan. Not only did the project stall, but the Town Manager and Town Planner who had considered the plan were subsequently fired. Now a For Sale sign stands at the frontage, offering some other developer the opportunity to build yet another subdivision we don’t need.

Although our petition to stop a housing development at the end of Wickenburg Airport’s runway was rejected on a technicality, we managed to stall the developer long enough so that he missed his window of opportunity. The housing bubble burst and demand for tract housing at the approach end of an airport runway dried up before the infrastructure was completely put in. Yes, he scraped the desert clean in his 40 or so acres of land, leaving an ugly scar on what was once pristine desert. But the project went bankrupt, leaving angry investors behind. I’ve heard the greedy bastard left town. Good riddance. I hope the same fate befalls the sardine-like housing project across the road and its developer.

Neither of these efforts would have succeeded if people like me had just sit on their asses, content to click a few buttons on their computer screens. It took a lot of real work, but in the end, it was worth it.

Don’t Be a Slacktivist!

Feel strongly about something? Isn’t it worth more than three minutes of your time? If so, get off your butt and do something about it. You can make a difference, but only if you really try.

How to Make Everyone Think You’re a Great Photographer

For most folks, it’s pretty easy.

Off Constellation RoadI’m often told that I’m a great photographer. While I don’t usually correct the person handing out the complement — hey, everyone likes to have their ego stroked once in a while — I have to admit here that it’s simply not true.

The real truth is, I can occasionally make a great photograph.

What Makes a Great Photographer?

There’s a difference, at least in my mind. A great photographer can consistently make great photographs. He often goes out with his equipment with an idea in his mind of what he wants to achieve. He considers location, lighting, composition, and camera settings. He takes full advantage of his equipment, no matter what it is, to help him achieve great results. Consistently. His worst photos may be about the same quality as my best.

I, on the other hand, try to do all of these things. I don’t usually succeed. I’m limited by my experience, my capabilities, and my equipment. It’s experience that helps you know when the light is just right and how to set your camera for the shot. It’s capabilities that make it possible to use all the tools on the camera to make the shot as good as it can be. Its equipment that ultimately determines whether the shot is composed properly (think lens focal length) and in good focus (think lens quality).

I’m also limited by my willingness to sit in one place for hours, waiting for the light to get just right. Or my willingness to hike that extra two miles to get into the perfect position to frame the shot. Or my willingness to face the cold or heat or strong winds. Or my simple willingness to carry a tripod when the light seems “bright enough” or that extra lens I probably should have with me. (I’m working on getting over all of these personal limitations, but it ain’t easy.)

In the end, I get mixed results. Some of my shots are really good and make me really happy. Others are crap. The rest fall in between. The fact that there’s no consistency is what keeps me from being a great photographer.

And I’m okay with that. I’ll keep trying and, hopefully, get better. But I don’t think I’ll ever be great. I’m okay with that, too.

How to Make People Think You’re a Great Photographer

So why is it that so many people tell me I’m a great photographer? Here’s my trick: I only show off my best photos.

Yellow-headed BlackbirdToo many people share too many of their photos. You know the folks I’m talking about. They go out with their camera and take 50 shots at the zoo. They then dump all (or almost all) of them on Flickr or some other photo sharing site. You go through them and are overwhelmed by the mediocrity. The great head shot of the giraffe munching a leaf is lost in the shuffle of poorly framed images of zebras and ostriches. The interesting image of the rhino’s sleeping face is buried among out-of-focus or poorly exposed images of monkeys and lions. You get bored after the first ten shots and may not browse any further to see the buried gems.

Digital cameras turned everyone into photographers and services like Flickr make it too easy to put photos online. Too many people think they need to share all of their photos. As if every shutter snap is the creation of a great work of art.

It isn’t.

Don’t Share Your Crappy Photos

There’s a lot of crap out there. It’s easy to distinguish yourself from other photographers. Simply share only your best images.

Be honest with yourself. Put one photo against another and keep the best one. Then do the same repeatedly to pare down the 50 zoo shots to three or four.

If necessary, get feedback from others — and I don’t mean the bullshit “great shot!” comments from fellow Flickr users who are fishing for reciprocal comments and “friends.” I’m talking about feedback from people who know good photos when they see them and are not afraid to tell you.

Don’t believe me? Try it and see for yourself. Weed out the crap you’re sharing on Flickr (or other online photo sharing sites) so only your best remain. Then see what people say about you, as a photographer. I think you’ll be pleased.