Do Call Center Workers, People Chained To A Desk In A Windowless Cubicle, Eat Veal?

This post originally appeared September 11, 2013.  Then it disappeared!  Luckily I don’t depend on the web to archive my writing.  I have a printed copy of all of my posts.  Why did the server eat the post?  Why is it difficult to post pictures now?  No one knows.  Thank G-d for paper…

 

The client didn’t mince words.  He saw an article in the Plain Dealer about retired workers getting free or almost free insurance under the new health care law.  “WHY CAN’T I GET THAT RATE?  Please don’t refer me to your blog—I don’t have the inclination to read/learn that much about the situation in general.  I’m looking for something specific to me.”

I was not pleased.  The whole point of my Health Insurance Issues With Dave blog is to provide context to the health care debate.  By-pass the details and you end up with the one-sided TV reports.  MSNBC – Rainbows and unicorns.  FOX – We’re all gonna DIE!

I was tempted to remind Chuck that more knowledge is better than less, working within the system is preferable to being victimized by it.  And then I jumped off my soapbox before I was pushed.

We’ve had a tough computer month.  First the server crashed.  Then I replaced my office computer, a box that was less than three years old, with a new top-of-the-line Dell.  Windows 7.  Office 2013.  The newest Outlook.  It took a week to get Internet Explorer to work.  The rest of the stuff SUCKS.  Sure, there is an online Windows video that might answer my questions.  There are tutorials and classes available, too.

But I don’t have the time or interest to learn that much about Windows 7.  I just want my issues to be resolved.

I am trying to find someone to spend an hour with me to get my stuff to work.  And I answered Chuck’s questions without mentioning my blog.

II

My Republican friend couldn’t wait to ask his question.  A few of us were talking and Ron patiently stood nearby, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.  At first I thought that he needed to use the restroom.  And when his time came, he looked me in the eye and asked his question, “Syria?

Even though I am a moderate Democrat, I am the go to guy of this group, the guy called upon to defend or explain every action taken by this President.  Today the question was Syria.

Ron was loaded for bear.  He was ready with every FOX talking point.  But to be fair, this situation, a stop and start military / diplomatic debacle that appears to be more reaction than the culmination of a well-defined strategy seemed to confirm every impression the Right has of President Obama.

I disappointed Ron.  I noted that I have never fired a weapon.  The only uniform I’ve ever worn is the suit and tie of a middle-aged Jewish businessman.  I can answer questions about the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act.  I know nothing about war.

No fight.  No vigorous defense of the President.  I could tell that Ron had been hoping for so much more.  So I agreed with him.  I guess if I was really that exercised by the use of chemical weapons (again!), I would have taken immediate action.  If I needed Congressional involvement, I would have pushed for it THEN.  I don’t pretend to understand the President’s strategy.  And I don’t know where or why we should bomb Syria.

And by the way, if you bomb Syria and you accidently topple the government, name one Syrian, any Syrian, who is any better than Bashar al-Assad.

III

Bruce the Microsoft tech and I stared in amazement.  Bruce was in my office to resolve a nagging issue on my new computer.  He couldn’t get started because my computer was still under the control, by remote access, of an Indian technician attempting to install my client contact software.  For an hour.  Even I could tell that this guy had no idea what he was doing.  An hour on the phone to India.  An hour tying up both my computer and the server.  An hour of listening to him guess how his software worked.

Bruce and I took control of the cursor and got the program to run.  It had never occurred to me to question the competency of the guy at the other end of the phone.  I just assumed that the software companies would only connect us to qualified, well-trained techs.

I should know better.  If you have ever called in to a major insurer to purchase health coverage, you have been connected to their internal sales staff.  The price of coverage isn’t a penny less even though you get someone stuck in a cubicle instead of a real broker.  I can always tell, just by looking at the policy, if someone worked with an independent agent or a company drone.  The quality of their work reflects the bleakness of their work environment. 

 ***

We are being herded into a new insurance system, one that is reliant on computer portals that have yet to be completed, that puts a great deal of emphasis on self-reporting and previously undemonstrated math skills, and in the end, depends on the kindness of strangers.

We may be asking too much.

 

 

Jilted

The Indians won last night.  I know because I got home in time to see the eighth and ninth innings.  I had heard parts of the game on the radio.  And at 5:20 this morning I went to my door to get the paper, eager to read the box score from the game.  And as I reached the door knob I remembered that today is Thursday and that I live in Cleveland. 

A sports page delivered to our door on Thursday?  Where do I think I live, Akron? 

The (formerly Cleveland) Plain Dealer wants to break up with us, but breaking up is hard to do.  Monday and Tuesday it disappears.  It is back on our doorstep Wednesday morning and tries to make amends.  Thursday?  Gone again.  On Friday the P.D. is back, but it seems distant.  The next thing you know it is Sunday, and like the girlfriend who is always available for the Hanukkah gift exchange party, the Plain Dealer is at your door hoping that all will be forgiven.  The whole cycle starts again Monday morning. 

Sting may have been right.  If you love somebody you should set it free.  If the Plain Dealer is too wishy-washy to terminate our relationship, we may have to, out of kindness, set them free. 

I don’t pretend to understand what Advance Publications, the owners of what was once a good daily paper, are doing.  I’m not alone.  Crain’s and other publications have also wondered about this strange behavior.  Massive lay-offs.  The elimination of home delivery.  A reliance on syndicated columnist who can be easily found elsewhere.  It looks like they are attempting to commit suicide with a butter knife.  

The 1996 season was our first without the Cleveland Browns.  As a way to make professional football relevant, I joined a fantasy football league.  I recruited my then stepson, a gifted mathematician who had a passing interest in football but a real love of pancakes, to be my partner.  Every Monday morning we grabbed the Plain Dealer sports section and headed for Big Al’s Diner.  While waiting for our food we would compile our points and map our strategy while I drank coffee and the ten year old downed large glasses of orange juice.  I dropped him off at school after breakfast. 

I can’t be the only Dad in Greater Cleveland who read the sports pages with his kid. 

Does that work with the online Plain Dealer?  Try it and get back to me.  Newspapers are a shared experience.  A computer screen in a restaurant is a party of one.   

And if you are going online, why go to the Plain Dealer site?  When I finally made time to read the box score of yesterday’s Indian’s game, I cut out the middle man.  I just Googled Indians and the box score came up. Cleaner.  Quicker.  Easier to find.  And if I want more details, I can always go to the team’s site. 

My fellow bloggers laugh when they learn that I compose most of these posts, including this one, with a pen on a legal pad.  I am committed to the written word.  The Plain Dealer had some great writers.  Most of them are now gone.  Others, like Chuck Yarborough, are left to do the work of three.  I still read all of his reviews, even the ones about Country acts, because I enjoy his perspective.  But you have to wonder how long this sort-of paper will bother to pay for local, professional writers. We aren’t that far away from a paper comprised entirely of wire service reports. 

So, you will be reading this on Friday, the paper will be on your coffee table, and you may even believe that everything is back to normal.  OK.  Check back on Tuesday.  Let me know if you still feel like there’s nothing missing.  Or better yet, let me know your thoughts on Monday, a few weeks from now, after the season opener.

 

Saving Al Cunix

  

The deer was on the wrong side of the barrier wall.  Blissfully eating what was destined to be his last meal, he grazed in the high grass mere yards from the I 271 southbound lanes.  There was nothing I could do.  His fate was sealed.  It was highly unlikely that he would find his way back and nobody would save him. 

The postcard came in Tuesday’s mail.  A financial services company in Mentor had all of the answers a Baby Boomer should ask about Social Security.  All of them.   The special meeting to share all this valuable information will be next Tuesday.  The same mail also brought a letter from Oregon about the importance of long term care insurance.  A free booklet and a helpful salesman were readily available.   And Wednesday’s mail brought an invitation for yet another dinner at The Olive Garden with those helpful people who want me to learn how to retire comfortably.  

Well, not really me, Al.  Al Cunix.  Everyone loves Al Cunix and wants him to be happy and wealthy. 

Al Cunix only exists on marketing lists.  He gets mail.  He gets emails.  And until the Do Not Call list became the law of the land, he got phone calls.  Lots and lots of phone calls.  I received four emails last week advising Al that Obamacare now required him to have health insurance. 

Some of the solicitations are inadvertently humorous.  Some of them are offensive, like the above emails.  But the truth is that most of the offers that come to Al’s attention are just depressing.  Did you ever wonder who would give up a couple hours of their life to be locked in a chain restaurant for a crappy dinner and an even crappier sales pitch?  Worse, it must work.  These “dinner” seminars must be separating hard working Americans from their money since the invitations keep coming. 

The letters, postcards, and emails are dripping with concern.  They love Al.  They want nothing but the best for him.  But like the deer, Al is really on his own.  And whether we are talking about oncoming traffic or unsolicited advice, we are our own best advocates and the only person we can really count on to keep us out of trouble.

 

The Natural

Roy Hobbs, bleeding and no longer armed with his favorite bat, stared at the opposing pitcher and steadied himself at the plate.  Once thought to be a budding superstar, mysteriously missing from the baseball scene for years, the entire team’s fate was on his shoulders.  The pitch.  The swing.  The Natural.  

My last post mentioned that our art is an integral part of our office.  So is the music.  I have almost 9,000 songs on my computer.  One by one I loaded my CD’s on to my system.  My collection is mostly rock, pop, new age and jazz, though I have a little classical and dance, too.  Jeff probably has as much music on his computer, though we’re pretty sure it is all the Grateful Dead!

 The other difference between Jeff Bogart and I is that while I always have music playing in the background while I’m alone in my office, he is often listening to sports talk radio.  Jeff has absorbed hours and hours of interviews and commentary.  I always thought that this prepared him for the 15 minutes of hope all Browns fans feel just before the start of each season.  It turned out that the ESPN radio program was more than just background noise for Jeff. 

About a year or so ago Jeff created Yogic Investing, a business that brought the principles of Yoga to personal investing.  For those who view Yoga as something more than aerobic exercising and a great opportunity to sweat with beautiful people in tight clothing, there is much to learn about bringing balance and abundance to the world of personal finance.  It is not my thing, but I have talked to Jeff and many of the people who practice Yoga and I appreciate the spirituality and seriousness that they bring to the subject. 

Jeff recently took this to an entirely new level.  Three weeks ago he began a new project, a radio show, The Yoga of Money.  The show is found on the The Empowerment Station on VoiceAmerica, an online radio station.  We set up a studio in our office and once a week he does a live hour of radio.  The show is then available whenever you have time to listen. 

The most amazing part of this is that Jeff is a natural.  He’s terrific on the radio.  He conducts interviews and fields live calls.  Who knew?  Last Wednesday I was listening to his show in my office, 30 feet away from our studio, and if I hadn’t just had lunch with him before he went on air, I would have thought that I was listening to some guy in New York. 

We all have talents.  Some of us our lucky enough to have the opportunity to use those talents.

 

 

Mastering The Whole Job

Tudzarov

“He’s the best plumber you’ve never heard of…” 

Have you ever heard that?  Someone is supposedly a great chef, or mechanic, or even insurance agent, but he/she has never achieved success or recognition.  Why?  The individual’s fans either don’t know or won’t say.  And if you ask this person toiling in anonymity you may hear how the fates have conspired against him, or how she was just too busy to do the marketing, or worse, how others have sold out, but he has remained true to himself. 

They have failed to master the whole job. 

We just got back from Ann Arbor.  I was multi-tasking, first meeting with a Michigan based health insurer and then looking for more stuff for the office at the Ann Arbor Art Fair.  Once I knew that my Detroit-area client will be properly insured, I was free to enjoy the show. 

The art is an integral part of our office.  We were once featured in the Plain Dealer and people visit just to see the collection.  The pictures, wood work, and sculptures aren’t expensive, just meaningful to me and generally fun and appreciated by our guests.  In fact, I did not pay over $2,000 for any item.  What makes the art cool is how we, our guests and I, react to each piece and the story that goes with it. 

This was my 21st year at Ann Arbor.  I stop and thank every artist I have ever patronized.  I don’t know if I’ll ever purchase another piece of glass from Rollin Karg, but I’m truly glad that I’ve got the one I have.  I enjoy sharing with Jerry Farnsworth that adults and children love his kaleidoscopes.  And a visit with John Russell, the guy who makes my wood pens, is worth the three hour drive. 

I purchased a wooden coffee cup last year.  I had never seen a coffee cup made of wood and was instantly intrigued.  The booth was busy and I didn’t get a chance to get to know the artist.  A year later I had questions about cleaning my mug and wanted to buy a couple more.  There was no one in the booth Wednesday, not even the artist.  We waited a few minutes and were intercepted as we were leaving.  I thought asking how to safely remove the coffee residue from my cup was a reasonable question.  He thought that I was wasting his time.  We left empty-handed a moment or two later. 

My cupmaker is only good at part of his job.  Why pay the money, schlep your goods, and pitch a tent on a hot Ann Arbor street (or at any show) if you don’t want to talk to the public? 

My major 2012 purchase was from Beau Tudzarov.  Clients and I have admired this creative piece of digital art since it arrived last September.  I have been looking forward to discussing the picture with him.  We had a great conversation Wednesday.  He confirmed some of what we had found, the influences of Salvatore Dali and M.C. Escher. 

Beau’s wife is also an artist and he credits her as one of his artistic influences.  Her work was being displayed in the next booth.  He showed me a picture that predated mine.  He felt that her tree, which had bubbles instead of leaves, had found its way into several of his pieces.  It was a revealing insight and it put my picture into sharper focus for me.  It also fostered a greater appreciation of his art. 

Did I buy another Tudzarov?  Not this year, but I’m sure I will one day. 

I also got a chance to visit with Greg Billman.  I have given Billmans’ as gifts and have work from Greg and Jane hanging in the office and at home. 

Over the two days we were in Ann Arbor we visited with over a dozen artists, some old friends and some new.  And I made a couple of trips to the car to stow the special art that had to come back to Mayfield Heights.

 Martell

We finished our trip at the Zeber-Martell booth.  Claudia and Michael create and display amazing clay works in their Akron studio.  They are socially conscientious active participants in the Akron art scene.  They are a wonderful couple, talented and loving, who work hard at the entire job.  They produce terrific art and they enjoy a well-earned, loyal following.  We seem to get a couple of things from them every year. 

The whole job.  It doesn’t really matter if we are talking about Michael Martell or Attorney Mark Obral.  The best are those professionals who master the whole job. 

Winning At Any Cost

 

Pardon me if you’ve heard this before.  It was May of 1974 and I was sitting in my dorm room on Case campus.  I was a double major – English and Religion.  I was trying to decide whether to be an attorney or a rabbi.  But on that spring day I had an epiphany.  I realized that I wasn’t holy enough to be a rabbi and not amoral enough to be an attorney.  And with that I set my sights on a different future, one that allowed me to be me and to never be forced, as part of my job, to do anything I didn’t believe. 

I write this as I am watching the two defense attorneys conduct a post-verdict press conference. To be honest, I am not shocked by the verdict.  I am not pleased, but I am not shocked.  But these two attorneys, too skilled at manipulating the English language, too proud in their willingness to win at any cost, and now, in victory, too joyful in their victory lap on Trayvon Martin’s grave, make me physically ill.  I have come full circle.  

I turned to Sally who was watching this with me and I said “I was right”.  I didn’t need to explain.

A Couple Of Legal Issues

 Same sex marriage is in the news.  I seldom write about marriage because, to be honest, I’m not very good at it. Of course, those who have failed or even some who have never been married may still choose to lecture couples who are enjoying successful relationships.   

Here’s a tell – the loudest, angriest defenders of traditional marriage are the unhappiest people you will ever meet. 

Traditional Marriage.  Biblical Marriage.  Holy.  A man and a woman, and her maid, and another woman (perhaps the sister of the first woman), and her maid, and maybe another woman or two.  You know, MARRIAGE. 

Personally, I am sick of the hypocrisy.  I’m tired and bored with the conversation.  There are two distinctly different, sometimes competing, components to marriage.  One part is spiritual.  The other part of marriage is legal, i.e. property rights, taxes, and responsibility. 

Churches, synagogues, mosques, etc… control and define the spiritual meaning of marriage.  Each religion has the right to decide whether the couple getting married meets the criteria of the faith.  The Catholic Church gets to determine whether the union of a Catholic and a Jew, a Catholic and a Methodist, or even two civilly divorced Catholics should be recognized by the Church.  My friend the Orthodox Rabbi is in no rush to preside at the wedding of a Jewish guy to a Christian girl.  And there are still churches in this country where a mixed race couple might not be welcome. 

But all of those couple may choose to be legally married.  The tax deduction for married couples, the ability to pass along assets to a surviving spouse, or even the right to visit a loved one in the hospital should not be decided by Sharia Law, the Pope, or even a local Rabbi. 

By the way, my friend the Rabbi is adamantly anti-pork.  Never had it.  Never will.  Pork is specifically forbidden in the Bible.  But he doesn’t want to make pork illegal.  He sincerely hopes that his non-Jewish friends enjoy their ham sandwiches.  He is far more concerned about those who would use religion, selectively enforced, as a weapon. 

II

 Is George Zimmerman guilty of second degree murder?  Is he guilty of manslaughter?  I have an opinion.  So do you.  But, just for a moment, let’s jump forward. 

Let’s suppose that the jury decides that Trayvon Martin had George Zimmerman pinned on his back.  And we will even suppose that Trayvon some how noticed George’s gun, the gun in the special concealed weapon holster.  The holster that sat below his waistband and kept the gun “concealed” in the small of his back.  But Trayvon still saw the gun and reached for it.  Yes, we will assume, for a moment, that the jury acquits George Zimmerman of all charges and sets him free. 

What’s next?  George Zimmerman, wannabe cop, licensed to carry a concealed weapon, returns to the neighborhood watch.  How safe do you feel?

The Three Worst Lies

This all started a couple of months ago.  A local artist was opening a new show and we were there for support.  I had no intention of buying anything, but one of her pieces was damn near irresistible.  So we bought it.  But it was opening night and the guys running the show swiped my credit card and then placed a little round sticker on the wall next to the picture.  I completely understood.  They wanted to show that her art was selling and hoped that those colored stickers would motivate more people to move from lookers to buyers.  I would get my art when the show ended in four to five weeks. 

We all know the three worst lies.  The first and most common is “the check is in the mail”.  It’s not.  The other two may be a little dated or sexist, so we’ll skip them for the moment.  Besides, I have a new one to add to the list – “I’ve been reaching out to Dave but haven’t heard back”. 

I contacted the artist in mid-June looking for my purchase.  The credit card had been charged the night of the opening.  The picture?  Who knows?  One should never confuse artists with business people.  I understand that.  I also knew that the guys running the show should be managing the delivery process.  Monday was June 24th, over two months since the show and almost a whole month since it closed.  I contacted the artist again. 

She was shocked.  She had been told that all of the art had been delivered.  This is an important point.  She wasn’t told that there was a problem.  On the contrary, everything was copasetic.  Now she was worried that she had the piece in her studio.  Failing to find it, she contacted the curators. 

Now it may be that this particular gallery opening was below their target market.  Perhaps that would explain their shocking lack of professionalism.  Or it could be that this and any other assignment was more than the two guys could manage.  Either way, this is the exact conversation that took place today via Facebook direct message.  The names have been eliminated to protect the incompetent.  Please don’t waste time trying to guess the names. 

     Artist – Guys! It seems we have a piece we sold at the show to Dave & Sally. Do I have the piece and if so, let me know I can bring it tonite!

     ### 1 – We can run it to you tonight. ### 2 has been reaching out to David but hasn’t heard back. Seems as if you’ll have better luck getting it to him. Thanks!

     Me – ### 1, I can’t imagine how you or ### 2 have attempted to reach out to me. Smoke signals? My office number – 216.292.8700 is unchanged for 15 years. I am listed  in the phone book and easily found on Google, FB, Linked In, etc…

     ### 1 – ### 2 has called and left messages for you since the show closed at the end of May. For some odd reason, they may not have gotten to you or you were unable to respond at the time. That is neither here nor there. We will deliver the piece to the artist to get to you. Thanks.

     Me – My secretary and I were just laughing at the thought of not being able to get a hold of me. Awaiting both my art and your apology!

     ### 1 – It seems you were e-mailed, not called. Either way, we did try to reach you.

     Me to the artist – Please let me know when they get the piece to you. No reason for me to be bothered with any more of this conversation… 

And there you have it, the perfect execution of the stupidest of lies.  Can’t find someone?  In 2013?  We have no privacy.  We are playing hide and seek where everyone, including the federal government, is IT.  And these two bunglers are trying to say that they couldn’t find me.

Actually, they first neglected to tell the artist that they were even looking.  Of course, the truth is that they weren’t looking.  My art, and possibly the purchases of others, may have once been scheduled for delivery, but now was just one more unfinished assignment. 

I know you caught the problems in the exchange.  First they didn’t acknowledge the undelivered piece(s).  Then they said that they had reached out, called, and left messages.  And then, when all else failed, they fell back on the missing email excuse.

I hope to have my art by this weekend.  But when it comes to the two guys that ran the show, I am reminded of one of the other great lies.  Yes, I will respect you in the morning.

 

 

When Confronted With Temptation, Joanie Asks For More

Manhatten 2013“Welcome to the smoking section”, I said to the woman eyeing the open seat on the park bench next to us.  She smiled, professed to loving the smell of a good cigar, and introduced herself as Joanie. 

Part of our annual trip to the City is a cigar from De La Concha and an hour of intense people watching at the entrance to Central Park a few blocks away.  People watching.  The only person we talk with is whoever I ask to take our annual picture with my Blackberry.  Everything was going according to plan for the first 30 minutes.  Even the light rain added to, not diminished from, our ritual.  No lightening.  No thunder.  The branches of the nearby trees provided a bit of cover. 

Manhattan-20120829-00193

Joanie was totally oblivious of the rain.  She was on a mission to talk with as many people as possible.  A displaced New Yorker now living in the northwest, she was visiting the city of her birth to remember her past and to share EVERY moment.  We were scheduled to meet my brother at Barney’s cufflink department; otherwise we might still be on that bench talking with her. 

Within the hour or so that we did talk we learned where and how Joanie met her late, first husband (pilot / Jones Beach), her uber-quiet current spouse (Norwegian scientist), and some of her travel exploits. We heard about childhood friends and ocean-front homes.  There were stories of grandchildren (3) and horses (current a quarter horse).  

And when at some point we failed to be enough of an audience, she also engaged the photographer from South Africa and the two guys from Colorado sitting close by. 

Like everyone who has had the pleasure of meeting Joanie, we immediately became her closest friends and confidants.  It was an awesome responsibility and we accepted gladly knowing in advance that our intense relationship was temporary in nature.  We knew that, but I’m not sure Joanie does. 

Early in our conversation, while talking about her homes, Joanie invited us to come and visit.  I’m absolutely positive that she was serious.  We aren’t booking a flight to Seattle anytime soon.  And though Joanie has my card, I don’t expect an email or a call.  As Van Morrison sang, “If you never hear from him, that just means he didn’t call”.  And it would be a shame to never hear from Joanie.  But I also wouldn’t be shocked if I got a call, five years from now, from a wandering Joanie sitting in a restaurant in downtown Cleveland asking if I would be available for lunch. 

I hope one day to get that call.  And yes, I’ll pick up the tab and listen to all of the stories of her latest adventures.

This Is Harder Than It Looks

Memorial Day is the unofficial start of summer here in Northeast Ohio.  June is the unofficial start of art festival season.  Legacy Village in Lyndhurst will be hosting the ex-Beachwood Art Fair tomorrow.  In the coming months we will have the opportunity to see arts and crafts at Cain Park, Boston Mills, and in almost every suburb.  Some of the works on display will be absolutely incredible.  But no matter how incredible the photograph, painting, or even sculpture will be, you are bound to hear someone look at the efforts of a skilled artist and scoff, “What’s the big deal?  I could do that”.  And all you can do is shake your head and hope that the creator of the work doesn’t hear the remark. 

I’m sure we have all done something like that.  We have the silly and totally unfounded notion that we could paint the picture, catch the football, or run the country.  Karaoke is proof that nothing is as easy as it appears.  Sometimes painful proof. 

AOL, the huge internet / communications company, has an online daily community newspaper called The Patch.  There are separate publications for Mayfield Hts, Beachwood, Solon, Lakewood, etc…  Each has its own editor and at least one staff person.  The Patch does a terrific job with breaking news. The design is simple and clean. The publications also include a lot of local bloggers.  Health Insurance Issues With Dave has appeared on the Patch for almost two years.    

AOL decided to update the Patch this week.  The new format would improve the editing functions for bloggers and make the publication easier to read.  That was the plan.  The results were quite different, almost New Coke different.  At one point the entire site was down.  Two days into the change and the site is still not running smoothly.  Hit a button and you may encounter a frozen screen or you might be ejected from the site.  I suspect that this will take a few more days to resolve and by this time next week all functions will be completely restored. 

I bring this up for a reason.  This is AOL, a tech giant, scrambling to update an existing site, an online newspaper.  You know that they completely tested this before it went live.  And you know that there are far more complicated sites.  Yet this roll-out was hardly successful.  This stuff is harder than it looks. 

The Insurance Exchanges are supposed to be live on October 1st.  This excessively complicated, Rube Goldberg creation is destined for failure.  How you view that failure will say a lot about how you view all of the rest of issues surrounding the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (PPACA).  If you curse the system from the moment of the first crash, you may well be witnessing the results you were hoping for.  But if you understand that something this complicated will probably have difficulty getting off the ground initially, but may still fly in time, then you will allow the Exchanges the opportunity to solve their problems. 

It is just another website, another picture, another song – something else that looks so easy that we could have done this ourselves.