The Olympic spirit can live on ... if you let it.

“War! What is it good for? Absolutely nothing!” (Edwin Starr)

That’s what I thought on Saturday night while watching prime time Olympic coverage on NBC. Tom Brokow, who continues to milk his authorship of “The Greatest Generation”, narrated what felt like an endless feature on Great Britain’s role in World War II. As the images of clashing armies and Adolph Hitler flashed across the screen, I winced. From a TV producer’s perspective, it was in bad taste and bad timing. As a global citizen, it felt toxic.

Up until then, the 2012 London Summer Olympics had a minimum of politicization. I enjoyed NBC’s coverage, which has focused on the peaceful human drama and competition between the world’s most fabulous athletes. It has been a glorious and sometimes exhilarating experience to witness 10,000 gladiators from more than 200 National Olympic Committees running, swimming, vaulting, jumping, diving, volleying, dribbling, shooting, serving, spiking, acing, riding, rowing, punching and medaling without international incident.

The Olympics can make you feel like the world is a better place than it seems most days. A stage where battlers hug their rivals and acknowledge world-class performances, even when the other guy or gal wins.

Maybe the truth is that we live in a mostly good world. But when we become obsessed with following violence, strife and political division, we lose sight of what’s typical. Aberration becomes average. Dysfunction seems mainstream. Perception is reality.

Most people are working hard to succeed and not terrorizing or harming their neighbors. Each of us struggles to triumph in his or her own little way in life. And every once in a while, we break a world record, even if it’s only in our little world.

In the weeks and months to come, I’ll be thinking back on the 2012 Summer Olympiad. When ships bump each other in the Straits of Hormuz, when politicians lob mud bombs in the endless American elections, and when economists predict financial catastrophe, I’ll try to remember the remarkable global unity and the power of positive energy that is the spirit of the Olympics.

The cost of losing the human touch.

People aren’t perfect. Nor are machines. And that’s true, whether they operate in the public or private sector, despite all the politically charged criticism of government employees.

Perhaps you heard about this week’s technical glitch with automated trading at Knight Capital Group Inc. It rocked pricing on 140 stocks, with millions of shares trading hands in minutes, grossly exaggerating the volume and further shaking investor confidence in Wall Street.

Here’s another true story to add some real world perspective to my position about our era of errors.

Last week, I thumbed through the mail to discover a bill for $443.10 from a hospital emergency room for medical services, pharmacy and laboratory. I had been to that facility in Detroit’s northwest suburbs only once, some 20 years ago. The U.S. Postal Service is much more efficient and reliable than that, so, I called the 800 number on the invoice to deny the health system’s charge for services un-rendered. An automated system responded. It offered me several prompts and then a recording announced Customer Service was now closed and was available Monday through Friday from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. I Googled the hospital’s main phone line and after a few touch tone strokes on my keypad, reached a human being who informed me that Customer Service was indeed closed.

“Those aren’t very convenient hours,” I said. “I’d like to take care of this quickly, since I did not receive any service from your emergency room.”

“They’re an outside agency,” the hospital operator responded. “You can leave them a voice mail.”

She connected me to the recorder. It was Friday about 4:30 p.m.

Monday morning, I called again and after navigating several prompts reached a human, Nora. When I informed her the emergency room bill was invalid, because I wasn’t at the hospital on July 16, 2012 or any other recent date, she asked for my account number. Then, to verify I was the legal party associated with the account, Nora asked, “What’s your address?”

When I answered, she said, “That's not the address listed on the account.”

“Please give me the address listed,” I requested.

“I can’t do that,” she said, “since this obviously is not you.”

“But what if the police would like to pursue that address?” I asked.

“Then they can call and ask for it,” Nora said.”

Fair enough. No need for vigilante justice here.

“But maybe someone has stolen my identity and is using my name,” I suggested. “The bill says ‘uninsured’, and I definitely have health insurance.”

“You should file a police report,” Nora said. “But I will need you to send us a letter declaring you were not in our emergency room and you’re denying payment.”

“Why do I have to do that work?” I asked. “You sent me an erroneous bill out of the blue, and now I have to write a legal document and mail it to you. You’re just trying to push your administrative costs on me.”

“It’s the only way we can compare your signature with the one on the patient chart,” Nora explained.

“Silly, Nora,” I thought. If I were a deadbeat,  I could simply alter my signature or have someone else sign the letter for me? Not a very reliable validation method.  And truthfully, I was hesitant about giving my signature to an organization that had sent me a bogus bill.

“Don’t they check ID at the hospital when patients are admitted,” I asked.

“They do,” Nora responded.  “You should also look at your credit report, in case someone has stolen your identity,” she suggested.

Frustrated with her analysis, I requested her phone extension and told her I’d file the police report.

When I dialed the Dearborn Police Department, after a list of automated options, I selected one that allowed me to speak to a police officer. He listened to my story and then quickly offered to send a car to our home for me to file a report. It was 9:45 a.m. on Monday.

“I have an 11 a.m. phone conference,” I said.

“There’s a car in the area. It can be there in the next 10 or 15 minutes,” the officer responded.

“Great,” I said and gave him my address.

Within 15 minutes, two professional Dearborn Police officers arrived, Corporal Tapping and Officer Burns. I invited them in and quickly walked them through my story.

“You probably should do a credit report check,” Corporal Tapping said.

“You’re entitled to do that once a year without affecting your credit rating,” added Officer Burns.

I had provided them with a copy of the invoice as well as Nora’s name and extension.

“This is the first billing,” noted the corporal. “Rather than you writing them a letter, we’ll call them and find out what’s going on.”

Before leaving, Officer Burns wrote down my police report number, her name and her partner’s and tore the sheet from her pad. She took my phone numbers and promised to get back to me. It was about 10:20 a.m. I told them I had an 11 a.m. phone conference so they might get voice mail.

After walking the officers out onto the front porch and saying thank you, I immediately checked my credit report online. Fortunately, there was no sign of foul play.

By 10:40, Corporal Tapping was calling back. “We reached the hospital and it seems like someone with a very similar name as yours was indeed in the ER on July 16,” she explained.

Turns out only one letter separated our last names. We also had the same first names, but he was more than 25 years younger. Too bad the hospital didn't pause to match birth dates when issuing the bill.

“Well that explains it,” I said. Must have been a keystroking error, I surmised. The electronic billing system automatically pulled up my address.

I told the corporal my credit report check was clean.  She promised to call again to let me know about the need to write a follow-up letter to the hospital.

“You might get my voice mail,” I warned. “Feel free to leave me a message, and thanks very much.”

I was already feeling better and got ready for my phone conference.

10:59 a.m. Dearborn’s finest was on the phone again.

“I talked to the hospital. They said there’s no need to write them a letter,” said the corporal. “If you receive another bill, simply call and give them your police report number.”

“Thank you so much,” I said.

Then I dialed into my phone conference with peace of mind, and gratitude that I have such a responsive city government.

My identity hadn’t been stolen. There was no unpaid bill for hundreds of dollars, just a clerical error someone made when they relied on automation, the way a novice might trust Microsoft’s spell-check feature. The private healthcare corporation got free investigative services, complete with a house call, courtesy of the local government. And the hospital wasted at least an hour of my time.

We live in a technology-obsessed world. This weekend, I saw a self-serve key-cutting machine at the big box hardware store. There were also multiple self-serve checkouts, way more than those with clerks. Much of this is sold as convenience. In reality, it’s designed to replace people with machines. Machines that customers operate. We run the switchboard when we call. We book our own flights and hotels, schlep our own luggage, pump our own gas, and, if we don’t want to wait, check and bag our own groceries.

And it’s all getting cheaper, right? Especially healthcare.

I love technology when it’s used properly, as a tool. In “The Jetsons” cartoon, “Rosie” the robotic maid was always so friendly. But, in real life, machines are only as good as the people who make and control them. Thank goodness the Dearborn cops I called weren’t androids.

By the way, neither Nora, nor anyone else from the hospital called me back to apologize.

There’s no profit in that — in the short run.

London Olympic Games serve up helping of healthy hope to couch potatoes

Watching the Olympics could make even the most dedicated sofa surfer stand up and start moving. Even if it’s only to give your favorite athlete or Olympic team a standing ovation.

I got off my duff this afternoon to ride my bike for about 45 minutes as I do most every day.  But the international athletic theater that is the Olympiad sets a great personal health example for all of us.

The sculpted physiques and exceptional endurance and flexibility demonstrate what the human body can achieve through relentless effort. General Electric has a riveting Olympic ad campaign called “GE Works” that graphically depicts how these  gold-medal anatomies actually perform and function.

As for me, my body would be classified fat and fit.

I’ve been exercising daily for over 15 years. Working from home has afforded me the luxury of speed walking and bicycling at lunch most days. In the winter, I add some bike or elliptical time at the gym most evenings. All that to hold the line on the battle of the bulge. I’ll never win the war, but the more I exercise the more battles I win.

Living and working in American communities that encourage driving doesn’t help. My neighbors, Hassan and Souha Jaber, of Dearborn, Michigan just returned from a vacation where they got a little more exercise than expected. They spent an enchanting week in Amalfi, Italy. The historic fishing town featured unforgettable vistas off the incredibly blue Mediterranean Sea and lots of climbing and walking. The Jabers rented a villa that was more affordable than the local hotel. It came with a 265-foot stone stairway.

“I was wheezing the first time I climbed the stairs up to the villa,” Hassan said. “I saw 85-year-old locals climbing the same stairs with no trouble and smiling at us as we struggled up the steps.”

Hassan came home looking slim, tanned and refreshed. He said the food in Italy was simple, delicious and natural. Herbs grew everywhere. Much is made of the Mediterranean diet and heart health. Perhaps we’re not talking enough about the role of exercise in the equation.

This week, August 1^st, marks my 25th anniversary as a self-employed entrepreneur. I’ve paid my own health insurance for all those years, with the highest premiums reaching $2,000 per month, plus deductibles and copays. I’ve always understood that I’m responsible for my well being in every way. Last year, I sailed through a routine heart stress test. I scorched the treadmill without working up a sweat.

Although I know I won’t get even a bronze medal for my efforts, I’m earning the ultimate reward. No matter how long I live, every day I exercise is a little better than it would be otherwise. And I won’t feel quite so guilty while I’m savoring my wife’s homemade chocolate ice cream and watching the gymnastics competition in London on TV.

Enjoy the Olympics, and to honor the athletes, give the couch a 30-minute break each day.

Cooler hands and heads.

I have never fired a weapon. Never had the desire or thought much about it.

But guns were part of our topic of conversation on Friday night, as we accompanied another couple to a nostalgic theater experience. We were headed for the historic Redford Theatre on Lahser Road in Redford, Michigan to see one of my favorite films, the classic, Cool Hand Luke. On the drive over, we couldn’t help but chat about the tragic slaughter at a Colorado Cineplex that had occurred the night before. But for just a few hours, we could escape to the past.

Built in 1928, the Redford Theatre is a priceless gem that has been restored to its original glory, and then some. Volunteers have even acquired vintage artifacts from other theaters, like remarkable, handcrafted chandeliers. Others have repainted beautiful graphic frescos on the ceilings and walls.

This movie palace dates back to a time when “talkies” were new media and the silent film was still mainstream. To prove it, they have the original organ that rises up on a mechanized pedestal.

The Motor City Theatre Organ Society, Inc. owns and operates the facility.  According to longtime, loyal volunteer, Bob Weil, Redford’s organ is one of the very few original theatre organs in America. The Fox Theatre in downtown Detroit also boasts one.

Buying a ticket outside at the box office and stepping into the lobby of the Redford Theatre is a journey back in time. All the features are classics, and the volunteer team that runs the place is offering an impressive lineup this season, from Casablanca and The Wizard of Oz to an Abbott and Costello double feature and North by Northwest.

Another Alfred Hitchcock chiller, The Birds, hits Redford’s big screen Friday and Saturday, September 28 and 29. And there’s a bonus. The star of the film, the lovely Tippi Hedren, will be there both nights to sign autographs. I remember seeing that very scary movie as a kid at the Warren Theatre in Detroit and never again looking at our feathered friends the same way.

If you plan to attend any movie at the Redford, be sure to get there 30 minutes before the start time to hear the organist perform. On Friday night, the musician and his instrument rose up out of the floor to the left of the stage.  The organist put on a show for 30 minutes. At the end of his act, the organ lowered again and Paul Newman and a cast of captivating characters soon graced the screen.

If you’ve seen Cool Hand Luke, you know parts are quite violent. But none of it is gratuitous. This movie is a piece of cinematic literature and the symbolism of the struggle between good and evil, hope and hopelessness abounds. It may be Newman’s best-ever role. His co-star, George Kennedy, won the Oscar for his performance as “Dragline”. Set in a hard-knocks, Florida corrections camp, the story features Newman as Lucas “Luke” Jackson, a decorated Korean War veteran. He ends up on the chain gang for destruction of public property. “Luke” got drunk one night and, for fun, he cut off the heads of the parking meters in a small town.

The troubled war hero’s magnetic personality, disarming smile and love for risk-taking make him the idol and savior of his fellow inmates. Of course, “Luke” becomes the devil incarnate to the guards and the Captain who runs the diabolical work camp. Hilariously innocent scenes counter harsh expressions of corruption and hatred to create a cinematic tension that keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Sharp shooter, “Boss Godfrey”, played by Morgan Woodward, provides a chilling force that constantly lurks in “Luke’s” shadow. The boss guard is ever ready to fire his bolt-action rifle to take off the head of a snake or stop the heart of an escaped prisoner. His actions are cold, calculated and deliberate. He is the grim reaper in the flesh, poised to render justice and capital punishment, without a judge or jury.

I enjoyed munching popcorn at the Redford for $1.50 and my wife, Ellen, chose the sweet potato cookies from Sweet Potato Sensations bakery across the street from the theater. She saved one for me. Yum! The Redford even has intermissions and matinees. It’s truly a trip down memory lane and a great way to savor a film.

During the movie, despite the sometimes-brutal storyline, I never once thought about Aurora, Colorado, alleged gunman James Holmes or the dozens of people he reportedly injured and killed in that theater last week. For on one beautiful, summer evening in the Motor City, I was able to escape to a place where the organ rose and the story soared.

It was not at all about the rising darkness of the night.

For more information about the Redford Theatre and coming attractions, visit www.RedfordTheatre.com. If you love movies, go to one show at the Redford and I guarantee you’ll become a fan forever.

Good news travels fast.

This weekend, I was invited to a housewarming party in Dearborn, Michigan for a homeless person.

Don’t be surprised. There are homeless people living in some very nice neighborhoods. In their cars, in motel rooms for a day or a week, or in rental properties where they’re about to lose power due to utility shutoffs. Some folks walk along the precarious edge of poverty and it only takes one unexpected expense to make them lose their balance. They get behind and stop paying the heat and electric bill until that catches up with them.

The homeless fall off our radar in the summer, because we don’t think about the threat of frostbite and missing fingers and toes. But imagine you’ve got a baby or two school age kids and the clock is ticking on your eviction notice. You end up with all your worldly possessions on the curb with no place to store them, and no roof overhead in 90-degree temperatures and thunderstorms.

Then, when you finally unscramble your life and find enough money to afford a first month’s rent and security deposit, you’ve got no basic essentials. No mop, no bucket, no pot or pan, no wastebasket, no towels, no dishes, no cleanser, no soap, no pillows or blankets.

Thankfully, the Neighborhood Services Organization (NSO) has found a clever way to fill that need. This Michigan nonprofit has vowed to be “Always Within Reach” for Metro Detroit’s most vulnerable. They recently acquired the former Michigan Bell Building on Oakman Boulevard in Detroit and have converted the old facility into 155 one-bedroom, permanent, supportive apartments. The NSO helps the needy find their way home, and the “Housewarming Party” was their ingenious approach to involving the community.

Here’s how it works. You and your family, friends, club or church group plan to host a housewarming event to equip a homeless person’s apartment. You register with Target, NSO’s retail partner. There’s a standard list of goods that a person needs to start their new home, and your guests buy these items, just like they would for a bridal shower. Some are very affordable, everything from hand soap for 99 cents to a $65 microwave. Guests can do the shopping online and have the gifts shipped to your place or buy them at the store and bring them to your Housewarming Party. No need gift wrapping. Of course, donors can write checks to NSO and bring those to your party. You serve whatever you choose and every one has a good time and feels better for it.

Two super-active couples from Sacred Heart Church in Dearborn hosted the party I attended. There were about 40 folks having fun, munching burgers and grilled chicken and an assortment of scrumptious salads and beverages.  I almost felt guilty eating so well when I considered the purpose of the party.

If you’d like to learn more about the NSO, visit www.nso-mi.org or call 313.961-4890.

It’s great to know there are truly visionary people thinking of ways for us to help change the world, one person at a time. They deserve more support. Help spread the word.

American muscle.

When I left broadcast television 25 years ago this July, it didn’t take long to land communications clients in the car business. That was a no brainer, because I live in Dearborn, part of the motor city’s metro area and birthplace of Henry Ford.

One of the first car company jobs I pursued involved a bid meeting with several video and film producers attending. One savvy sales guy turned to his competitor and announced, “Hey, is that your brand new Toyota out there in the lot? That’s a beautiful car.” The Toyota owner sank in his chair. His odds for winning the bid had just plummeted. The job was with an American carmaker and he had just bought a foreign sedan. What could he have been thinking? Should have borrowed a buddy’s wheels for the day.

I’ve been self-employed most of my 33-year career, and I’ve owned American vehicles, except three times. I did lease two Volvos, for two years each, and one Mazda for three years. At the time, both brands were under the Ford Motor Company umbrella. Incidentally, my Mazda 6 was Michigan made by UAW workers.  Not all models are equally American. The Mazda boasted 55% U.S. content, plus U.S. assembly. I read the label. The Ford Fusion was assembled in Mexico.

Buying domestic products just seemed like the right thing to do. Plus, my late father was a UAW-GM worker and my wife’s brother worked for Ford his whole life, so we got the employee discounts. But I have also been supporting the products my family, friends and neighbors created with their minds, hands and hearts.

American pride and manufacturing are hot again, in Detroit and across the United States. The car business is on the rise and the U.S. brands are going strong. GM is again the world’s number one carmaker. It even sold twice as many electric Chevy Volts this June as it did at the same time in 2011. That surge occurred despite the recent, temporary decline in gas prices. I guess people are warming up to the new technology and acknowledging that volatile energy prices are here to stay. It was great to hear those reports as we celebrated America’s Independence Day this week.

The rebounding car business is always good news in U.S. cities where autos are made, but it’s just as important to our global economy right now. Make no mistake. At no time in modern history has the U.S. recovered from a recession without the car business leading the way. It’s never happened. Never.

If you’re into reading economic tealeaves, there’s some not-so-quiet momentum building. Even fuel-efficient sport utility vehicles (SUVs) are selling well. Meanwhile, Ford is predicting huge losses in Europe in the third quarter, so its U.S. sales success is more vital than ever.

In 2001, when the 9-11 attacks stomped on our economic brakes, it was the autos that helped prevent a complete stall. Remember, the “Keep America Rolling” campaign led by GM and all those zero-percent car loans? They stimulated huge sales and in turn, lots of other economic activity. Now there are millions of drivers who own 11-year-old models that they need to replace. They’ve been too nervous to make a move in aftermath of the Great Recession. (In my opinion, it was actually a depression with a safety net or airbag, including Social Security benefits, Medicare, Medicaid, unemployment and food stamps. Those protections weren’t around in 1929 when the stock market crashed.)

So, now, many of those 2001/2002 vehicle owners are starting to buy again and that is churning up a wave of economic activity.

Cars create jobs like no other manufactured goods. Do the math. When most folks buy new wheels they get some sort of financing. They may pay to secure those payments or buy an extended service plan as well. Then, of course, their mandatory auto insurance goes up to cover the increased value of their new ride. They might also request some special protection like rustproofing, tire and wheel coverage or anti-stain treatment for their upholstery. Dealers pay to train their sales and financing people and advertise to get you in the door, even hiring specialists to paint their windows like oversized signs or they rent huge green dinosaurs for their rooftops to attract shoppers.

Cars include steel, rubber, plastic, textiles, leather, aluminum, wood, glass, paint, chemicals, copper and a lot of computers and software. They require many experts to engineer, invent, prototype, test, install and service the myriad configurations and components that become personal transportation. What other item do you own that is complex enough to carry you and several other people at sixty miles per hour, in an upright or reclining position, surrounded in symphonic sound and independent climate control, wrapped in a crash-resistant cushion, complete with interior and exterior lighting, illuminating your way to help you avoid collisions with an anti-lock braking system and standard electronic stability control? You get the idea.

Meanwhile, I talked to a lawyer from the West Coast this weekend and he said his firm could easily hire six attorneys and six paralegals right now, but he can’t get his bank to loosen the purse strings. And he has millions in accounts receivable for collateral. Ironically, his father was once a Senior Vice President of Wells Fargo Bank.  This barrister makes his living defending huge corporations, yet he believes the banks are again playing an undue role in orchestrating our financial future. There’s another tealeaf to consider.

Recently, my wife, Ellen and I visited a local furniture boutique that features quality, American-made products. One afternoon in the sweltering heat there were a half dozen folks test driving the cushions and puzzling over fabric, leather and wood samples.

The economy is beginning to slowly accelerate.  We’ve seen car sales continue to improve. Next, housing should bounce off the bottom. That is, if the banks return to applying conventional mortgage standards. Then the realtor, carpenter, plumber, and big box hardware stores will get rolling.

Go ahead, buckle up. The world is looking to America to lead the recovery, and Detroit is revving up its engine.

Rising tides of laziness

Last week, National Geographic News reported that the Atlantic Ocean was rising on the east coast of the United States, approximately three to four times faster than other areas in the world. Consequently, Boston, New York City, Philadelphia and Baltimore could experience more frequent future flooding. Instead of floodwaters occurring every three to four years, they are likely to hit these urban centers three to four times annually.

Don’t panic. The real high tides won’t rise until the year 2100. But if you care about your grandkids and their children, then this might be reason to take notice and action.

What really got my attention was a report this week that the big boss at ExxonMobil, Rex Tillerson, is now acknowledging climate change. Wow! So, global warming is no longer flawed science? What triggered the shift in company opinion? Maybe it’s the triple digit temperatures from sea to shining sea, the raging forest fires in Colorado and the mega storm that depowered several east coasts states and Washington, D.C., leaving two million Americans in the dark this weekend.

The oil company’s CEO went on to declare that instead of trying to prevent the higher temperature trend, we should begin investing in ways that will allow us to adapt to a planet that’s growing too hot for humans. “It’s an engineering problem,” he said. In other words, keep consuming fossil fuels at record rates and turn up the AC or some super solar shield that enables us to keep things just as they are. Spoken like a guy who makes his living selling energy. Why bother inventing groundbreaking alternative energy technologies when you can subsidize the fossil fuel industry and secure the status quo? The ExxonMobil chief also said the impact of climate change is being exaggerated.

Although I don’t agree with Tillerson’s analysis, he did say something that I support at some level. He blamed our misunderstanding of climate science on a “lazy” press. He believes our failure to grasp climate change issues is due to journalists who simply accept and reprint environmental rhetoric.

In my opinion, Tillerson is half right. It’s not that tree huggers are on the wrong side of the issue, but it’s the failure of the researchers, reporters and editors to dig and independently develop the story and guide readers and viewers to genuinely validated and transparent information.  And many consumers have refused to explore and educate themselves, as well. We tend to accept what we’re fed, which is generally a sensationalized screaming match about hot topics producing all heat and no light.

Case in point. When we have a severe cold snap or blizzard, the pro-business lobby mocks the global warming crowd, as if an ice storm means that NASA scientists are quacks. After all, before it was global warming it was global cooling, right? The reality is that our climate is definitely changing. And even if we can’t control it by altering our behavior, I can’t imagine that the average citizen would fight for more pollution. Unless, of course, their livelihood depended on spewing more crud into the air or turning a blind eye to dumping toxic wastes.

Our professional media, the fourth estate, is a necessary filter between the public and propaganda artists. Without vetting, how do you know who to believe or trust? However, you are on firm ground if you doubt media sources for a number of reasons. For example, today, local television stations routinely produce programs for sponsors and pass them off as quasi-documentaries or feature reporting. In reality, they are nothing more than paid infomercials. In the old days, late-night TV junkies might watch a presentation about a new kitchen gadget at 2 a.m. Sunday. It was obvious the manufacturer bought the time. Today, you can see a primetime special about technology at a local hospital, bought and paid for by the healthcare institution, and produced by the station’s news crew. The lines between journalism and marketing have become so faded, you have to ask, is the press dead? No questions about the impact of the technology on healthcare costs; the proven, long-term effectiveness of the therapy or the tradeoffs. Of course not. You don’t do that with marketing, even when it’s disguised as reporting.

During this week’s wall-to-wall coverage of the Supreme Court’s healthcare ruling, one interviewer on Bloomberg News was surprised to learn that hospitals lose 20 to 30 percent of their billings, because uninsured patients fail to pay. How could any competent journalist or literate American not know by now that healthcare providers routinely eat a steady diet of unpaid bills?

Today, about six large corporations control some 80 percent of the U.S. distribution of news. Some 50 companies once shared that business. Visit the Web sites for Disney, NBC Universal, News Corp and Viacom, and see how much media each of those giants own. Unparalleled consolidation has occurred.  Our perspective has narrowed significantly and there are far fewer voices with access to booming amplification. They sing from the same song sheet. The rest of us tweet.

For example, the last time an independent political candidate made a significant impact on a national election was 1992. That’s twenty years ago, before the consolidation that has chilled alternative perspectives.

Meanwhile, it surprised me how little I heard about ExxonMobil’s climate change admission. But then again, all that matters now is healthcare. A major energy company admitting fossil fuels contribute to rising temperatures is a little bit like big tobacco finally acknowledging smoking kills. Yet, where’s the coverage?

So, what have you decided? Is the trend toward ultra dry, hot weather just a blip in Mother Nature’s hormonal cycle or is it a sign of things to come that we should address? In this age of endless information and hundreds of sources do you know where to go to learn?

Big oil says climate change is real, but don’t sweat it. Personally, I'm glad I live in the Great Lakes State.