A friend of mine called me the other night.
I asked him how he was doing. “Great!”, he said, “I just turned 65.”
He proceeded to tell me he’d just had some cancerous spots removed from his ankle (he plays golf a lot and apparently doesn’t wear socks). And apparently, he’d been to the doctor for other things for which they gave him pills.
So, why was he doing great with all of this medical stuff going on?
“It was free!”, he said. “I didn’t pay a nickel. I asked how much I owed and they said nothing! Nothing!”
And there’s the rub. My friend could pay. He could pay at least some. But, our all-or-nothing system doesn’t allow for that. We have to take it, no matter how much we have. It’s sort of like the Academy Awards with those little gift bags everywhere.
It seems when you turn 65 in this country, pills fly like confetti at a parade; all those frowns at the admissions desk turn into smiles. I wonder if they bake you a cake.
There is something wrong with this system.