Tom Cotton and the Arkansas Safety Net

Tom Cotton and the Arkansas Medicaid Safety NetSenator Tom Cotton voted for the 2025 budget reconciliation law — the so-called “One Big Beautiful Bill.”

There are a lot of things buried in that enormous piece of legislation, but two deserve particular attention in Arkansas: Medicaid and SNAP.

And these aren’t abstract Washington programs.

They pay doctors. They keep rural hospitals operating. Medicaid pays a huge share of nursing-home bills. SNAP buys groceries for families who don’t have enough money to buy them otherwise.

So what did Congress do?

It made major cuts and added new restrictions. [continue reading…]

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Awaiting the opening of orange picking season

Waiting for the Oranges — Porterville, California, 1936; reimagined in color, in the style of one of Norman Rockwell's magazine illustrations.The man in the picture came from Missouri.

His name apparently wasn’t recorded, or at least it didn’t make it into the caption that followed Dorothea Lange’s photograph into the archives.

What we do know isn’t much.

He was a drought refugee from Polk, Missouri.

It was November 1936.

He was in Porterville, California.

And he was waiting for the orange harvest to begin.

That’s it.

I recently took two of Lange’s black-and-white photographs and reimagined them in color, in the style of one of Norman Rockwell’s magazine illustrations. There’s something about seeing him that way that changes the photograph a little. The Depression suddenly doesn’t seem quite so safely tucked away in black-and-white history.

He looks more like a man you might actually have known. [continue reading…]

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Tragic fall in The Unforgiven (1960)

There are some injuries you read about differently after you’ve had a similar serious one yourself.

While filming The Unforgiven in Mexico in 1959, 30-year-old Audrey Hepburn was thrown from a horse during rehearsal and broke her back. Accounts vary somewhat on the exact injuries, but contemporary and biographical sources describe multiple fractured vertebrae—one detailed biography says four broken vertebrae, along with two sprained ankles, a sprained wrist, and torn lower-back muscles.

Production stopped while she recovered. Remarkably, after about six weeks she returned to the set and finished the movie, wearing a back brace beneath her costume.

There was a much sadder consequence. Hepburn was pregnant at the time and later suffered a miscarriage. The miscarriage has often been attributed to the accident, although whether the fall actually caused it is unclear.

The story caught my attention for obvious reasons.

Before my own accident, “broken back” brought to mind paralysis or somebody unable to walk. I now know firsthand that it isn’t necessarily that simple. In a fall, I fractured multiple thoracic vertebrae and cracked several ribs, yet I could still walk. A neurosurgeon in Sherwood, Arkansas, used titanium rods and screws, connecting multiple vertebrae combined with bone graft material for long-term stabilization.

So I look at Hepburn’s story differently today.

I can imagine the difficulty getting comfortable, the fatigue, the movements that suddenly aren’t simple, and the realization that recovery doesn’t happen all at once.

Then I think about Audrey Hepburn putting on a costume over a back brace and going back to work on a set in Mexico.

I am at about the same point in my recovery, and it’s hard to imagine doing that.

Broken backs have a way of changing your perspective.

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Note: The image was generated by ChatGPT AI. It is a Norman Rockwell-style work based on 1959 black-and-white photographs.

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Slow Poker

Fifteen years ago, we were in the left-hand lane on US 24 in Colorado Springs when I noticed the driver in the next lane holding up a card trying to get my attention. I don’t remember exactly what it said on the card, but it basically told me I should be driving in the right-hand lane.

Now I understand why people get upset when others abuse traffic rules, including the one where slower vehicles are supposed to stay to the right.

I was driving a 25-foot motorhome towing a car, so, yes, I was going slower than some others.

However, I also had a GPS telling me that about a mile down the road I had to make a left turn to get on the freeway, and with the heavy morning traffic, I was in the left-hand lane early to make sure I didn’t miss it.

The guy made a right turn shortly after that, so I wasn’t really delaying him at all.

Just a control-freak jerk, I guess.

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Note: The image was generated by ChatGPT AI.

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Tom Cotton’s Likeability Problem

Tom Cotton's Likeability Problem - Every once in a while, a poll tells you something more interesting than who is ahead and who is behind.
Every once in a while, a poll tells you something more interesting than who is ahead and who is behind.

That’s what caught my attention about a recent Arkansas Senate poll.

The headline was that Tom Cotton and Democratic challenger Hallie Shoffner are much closer than many people expected. Whether that turns out to be true in November is almost beside the point. Polls come and go, and we’ve all seen elections where the “can’t lose” candidate suddenly found himself in a real contest.

What interested me was something else entirely.

The poll suggested that after twelve years in the U.S. Senate, Tom Cotton still hasn’t become particularly well-liked.

Think about that for a minute.

An incumbent usually has one huge advantage: everybody knows who he is. The problem is that once people know you, they’ve also formed an opinion. If that opinion isn’t improving after more than a decade in office, that’s a difficult problem to solve.

This isn’t really about ideology.

There are plenty of politicians whose policies I disagree with but who seem genuinely likable. Likewise, there are politicians I agree with on many issues who leave me completely cold. Personality matters whether we like to admit it or not.

Tom Cotton has always struck me as someone who projects competence but very little warmth.

He is obviously intelligent. He’s disciplined. He served his country honorably in the Army, and I don’t question his work ethic. Those are all legitimate strengths.

But whenever I see him interviewed, I come away with the same impression.

He seems… mechanical.

Everything appears carefully calculated. Every answer sounds as though it has already been written. Every appearance feels like a mission briefing rather than a conversation.

I’ve often wondered whether that’s simply his personality or whether it’s an image he deliberately cultivated over the years.

Either way, it has consequences.

People don’t expect every politician to be funny. They don’t expect them to be everyone’s best friend. But they do want some indication that there’s an actual human being behind the talking points.

That has never seemed to be Cotton’s strongest suit.

One phrase from the article describing the poll made me smile because, while it was obviously written for effect, it captured the image many people seem to have of him: a “charisma-deficient automaton.”

That’s harsh.

It’s also memorable.

Political reputations are funny that way. Once a particular image takes hold, every public appearance either reinforces it or chips away at it. In Cotton’s case, I think each interview tends to reinforce it.

Could he still win comfortably?

Absolutely.

Arkansas remains a Republican state, and incumbents usually have significant advantages. One poll doesn’t rewrite political reality.

But I do think the poll highlights something that has been easy to overlook.

For years, Tom Cotton has concentrated on projecting strength, certainty, and toughness. Those qualities appeal to many voters. At the same time, he has never seemed very interested in projecting humor, humility, or approachability.

That may not matter to his strongest supporters.

It may matter to everyone else.

Politics is often described as a battle of ideas. Sometimes it is.

More often, it’s a choice between people.

And being respected is not always the same thing as being liked.

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Searching

The boss wondered why one of his most valued employees was absent but had not phoned in. Needing to resolve an urgent work problem, he dialed the employee’s home phone number.

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Languages

As Art Linkletter showed in his segments on radio and, later, television, “Kids say the darndest things.”

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Legacy

“I have a legacy” doesn’t necessarily mean fame or wealth. It means that something of you continues beyond your own accomplishments. A legacy can include:

  • The people you taught or mentored.
  • The work you helped create or improve.
  • The values you passed on to family and friends.
  • The knowledge you preserved.
  • The lives you influenced, even if most of those people never realize it.

A legacy also doesn’t have to be complete. It’s something that continues to grow as long as your influence continues.

A simple way to express the idea is:

“I have a legacy. It isn’t measured by what I own, but by what I leave behind—in the people I’ve taught, the work I’ve done, and the lives I’ve touched.”

Or, if you want something even more concise:

“Success is temporary. Legacy endures.”

Or simply:

“I have a legacy. That’s how I measure success.”

That last version is especially effective because it doesn’t claim perfection or invite comparison. It simply states the standard by which you judge your own life.

 

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$373,378.69

That is the total amount billed to Medicare—$373,378.69— for my accident, emergency care, complex spinal surgery, hospitalization, inpatient rehabilitation, imaging, physician services, and follow-up care. At first glance, it is a staggering number. It is also a number that is easy to misunderstand.

Many people assume that if a hospital bills Medicare $373,378.69, then Medicare simply writes a check for that amount. That is not how the system works.

Hospitals and physicians submit what are known as charges. Think of them as a manufacturer’s suggested retail price (MSRP) on a new vehicle. They represent the provider’s established price for every procedure, medication, test, implant, and day of hospitalization. Very few patients—or insurance companies—actually pay those listed prices.

Medicare has its own payment formulas established by federal law and regulation. For every hospital stay, surgery, imaging study, physician visit, and rehabilitation service, Medicare determines what it considers to be the approved amount. In many cases, that approved amount is dramatically lower than the original charges.

The provider then agrees to accept Medicare’s approved amount as payment in full for covered services. The difference between the hospital’s billed charges and Medicare’s approved payment is simply written off. It cannot be billed back to the patient.

In my case, Medicare almost certainly paid only a fraction of the $373,378.69 that was billed. I don’t yet know the final Medicare-approved amount, and frankly, it doesn’t matter very much to me because I have traditional Medicare along with a Medicare Supplement Plan G. After Medicare pays its share, my supplemental policy covers nearly all of the remaining approved costs. My actual out-of-pocket expense has been minimal.

That is exactly what Medicare and a Medigap policy are designed to do: protect beneficiaries from catastrophic medical expenses following a serious illness or injury.

Without insurance, the picture can be very different. While hospitals often provide discounts, financial assistance, or negotiated settlements for uninsured patients, a major trauma can still result in enormous financial stress. Medical debt remains one of the leading causes of financial hardship in the United States.

Looking back, it is remarkable what that number represents.

It includes emergency evaluation after my fall, surgery to stabilize three fractured vertebrae using titanium rods and screws spanning five vertebrae, along with bone grafting material to permanently fuse the damaged section of my spine into a single solid structure. It also includes days in the hospital, inpatient rehabilitation, countless medications, multiple CT scans and X-rays, physician visits, nursing care, physical and occupational therapy, and weeks of follow-up care. Those services involved hundreds of skilled professionals working around the clock to give me the best chance of returning to a normal life.

Today, I’m walking, driving again, using my treadmill, and gradually regaining strength and independence. That recovery didn’t happen by accident. It happened because modern medicine, highly trained healthcare professionals, and remarkable surgical technology were available when I needed them most.

So when I see $373,378.69, I don’t really see a bill. I see the immense cost of modern medicine, the complexity of our healthcare payment system, and the value of having Medicare and supplemental insurance when the unexpected happens.

The number may be shocking, but it is not what I owe. It is simply the starting point in a payment system that most Americans never see until they find themselves recovering from a life-changing accident.

In the end, that figure represents far more than dollars. It represents a second chance. For that, I am profoundly grateful.

 

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Progress

On Thursday, I made my first solo trip into town since my May 31 accident.

The day before, my neurosurgeon told us that the X-rays showed the spinal fusion was doing well.  He relaxed several restrictions. I no longer have to wear the rigid back brace. I can now lift up to 30 lbs.

And I can drive!

I took advantage of that and drove back home from Little Rock, stopping in Russellville so we could pick up a couple of Karen’s prescriptions.

On Thursday, I decided to drive in to get a haircut. I certainly needed it.

However, the shop that I use was closed, so I headed on over to Walmart.

I’ve been using walks at Walmart and other stores, as well as walking around the yard, for physical therapy.

I use the empty cart for stability and then, when I’m just about done, do the shopping.

I managed to get about a mile.

I still have a long recovery ahead of me.

{I just noticed a couple of details that AI got wrong in the image.  I don’t wear a watch and haven’t for almost 20 years. I also don’t wear T-shirts with pockets. As well, I don’t wear jeans in the summer.}

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