Like the rest of the USA and the world, my family has been affected by the "Big Meltdown," a term I prefer to recession or depression. My wife and I are both self-employed and we hit the financial bust-out perfecta. She's in real estate and I'm in advertising. You know what happened to the real estate business, and the ad business is not far behind, especially when several of your clients are also real estate agencies.
A lot of our recent family discussions have been about ways to cut spending. We include our two daughters, 16 and 21, in these discussions because we figure it's important that they understand the rotten financial situation we're in. Not much gets settled at these family round tables, but at least everyone gets a chance to voice an opinion and present money saving ideas.
Mom: How about we cut out cable TV?
Kid 1: (Indignantly) No way. I'm not giving up MTV.
Dad: (Also indignant) I can't believe you're asking me to give up watching the Bulls.
Mom: What if we sell one of the cars?
Kid 2: You can't be serious. Do you really expect me to ride the el and buses everywhere I go?
Dad: (Reasonably) Now, now. Let's not get upset. We're simply discussing options.
Kid 1: Here's an option. Why don't you and Mom quit drinking so much wine?
Dad: (Angrily) Don't be a wiseass.
Mom: Ungrateful brat.
Kid 2: Now who's upset?
Dad: Let's all calm down. (Pathetic attempt at humor) Here's an idea. Let's sell the cat and dog to the Korean restaurant down the street.
Mom: (Aghast) That's a horrible thing to say.
Kid 1: That's not even close to funny, Dad. It's just gross.
Dad: Just lightening the mood, trying to make everyone feel better.
Kid 2: Want to make us all feel better? Quit smoking. What do cigarettes cost anyway?
Dad: (Grumbling and obscenities)
In the end, we came up with a money saving solution that satisfied almost everyone. Dad got taken off of the health insurance policy. Being self-employed, we pay for health insurance out of our pockets, a little over $800 a month. That's a lot of money right now or any other time. By removing me from the policy we save nearly four hundred a month.
Fortunately, I have a health insurance option. As a veteran of the United States Army, I'm entitled to care and treatment at any veteran's hospital in the country. It's one of the perks of having risked life, limb, and sanity for my country. The only problem is that veterans' hospitals are not considered to be in the top echelon of medical facilities. I can see the conversation with my doctor now.
Me: I need brain surgery, Doc.
Doc: That's too bad.
Me: And I need a septuple heart bypass.
Doc: That's a shame.
Me: What's the prognosis?
Doc: Dude, you're probably gonna die.
The good thing, however, is that VA doctors are experienced in dealing with traumatic injuries. So if I get shot or stabbed or step on a land mine in Lincoln Park, I'll be in good hands.
I'm going down to the Jesse Brown VA Medical Center on South Damen Avenue next week to register in the system. I'll bring along my discharge papers and my good conduct medal and my dog-eared copy of the US Army Survival Manual, just in case things get rough. I'll let you know what happens.
