We interrupt our regularly scheduled Jovial and Jiggy discussions of Lighthearted Merriment and Good Humor for the following Unseemly Rant:
Oscar Wilde said, "If this is the way Her Majesty treats her prisoners, she doesn't deserve to have any." And I am inclined to agree. I have been dealing of late, by phone, letter, lawyers and doctors, with the appalling "Medical Care" afforded those in the old klinkeroo, specifically You-Know-Who. Faxing legal documents such as Health Care Proxy and Power of Attorney to lock-up physicians who then say, "If I had known you weren't a medical doctor, I wouldn't have talked to you--and I must respect the [snicker] patient's right to privacy."
Then, in arranging various legal, financial, and real-estate documents with my dear, dear paralegal friend Debby, I am told, "Bill, you know this would be so much easier if you were married." And then to read in Newsday that, according to more than one legal task force there is absolutely nothing in New York State Law preventing that--except for the refusal of officials to grant marriage licenses.
But the times they are a-changin', oh yes they are, and faster than anyone expected. Why, in no time at all everyone will wonder what all the fuss was about. But at least it's a good way to get people to stop thinking about the economy and the national debt and foreign relations and all those other irrelevant things in an election year.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled Lighthearted Frivolity.
And now I must make phone calls and submit documents and visit my legally unrecognized partner. And, time permitting, do some shopping, housework, laundry, and destroy Western Civilization.
