In the playground

Not long after we arrived, we were at a nearby playground to burn off some collective energy. A couple of women with a kid arrived with the same idea.

We started chatting, the mother of the boy heard me say "eh" and they laughed at my Canadianisms.

The other woman, somewhat older, told a story about her son who, some years ago, caught Necrotizing fasciitis (the "flesh-eating baceria") at age 2. It was touch-and-go, and the hospital asked about her medical coverage; she had none, but she told the doctors to save her son. The medical system in Boston is known for being a good one, and the boy survived.

They were obviously not well off—much of Norton seems to be actually quite poor—so the mother learned to change his bandages and perform nursing duties so that she didn't have to hire a nurse. Nevertheless, by the time her son had recovered, she had spent $48,000 to save his life.

Last summer we had to decide whether we could afford to pay for surgery on our cat—surgery which would save his life but was something that financially we really couldn't afford. I left that playground with the sudden realization that what we went through with our cat, that woman went through with her child—something that I found nearly unimaginable under a public system.

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Having said that, things may be changing in the U.S. I have heard several people (including the women at the playground) mention that Massachusetts is the first state to bring about universal health coverage—or, as it is consistently put, Massachusetts has made it illegal to not have health coverage. (The fact that people describe it as such strikes me as an interesting difference in perception from Canada).

I really don't have a clue about this (I haven't even seen Sicko), but this is what I've managed to come up with so far: the health care system now has a managed clearinghouse for all the various kinds of health plans available. If you do not have coverage, you will be fined. However, the deregulation of health plans means that more affordable options will be available to individuals and small companies. Hmmm.

I find it interesting to look at the differences in approaches between the States and Canada; the Massachusetts model has elements of universality (particularly the enforcement of medical insurance on everyone), but the solution is still essentially a market-based one: deregulation and an arms-length Government referral service.

I can't help but wonder – what if (effective) universal health coverage just can't fit into a for-profit market-driven framework? What if universal coverage just isn't profitable enough? Is the idea of "consumer choice" going to work in the context of making decisions—sometimes life-and-death and on the spur of the moment—about the survival of family members?

Public universal health coverage it ain't, but it seems to be the closest thing in the states—and it was a bipartisan effort. Then again, the Heritage Foundation thinks it's a good idea...

Autumn Porn

Okay, now I know why in pamphlets and promotional material, New England seems to exist in a perpetual Autumnal state. When we arrived in August, the area was a quite-lovely-thank-you green area. Come October, the state transformed into a drop-dead gorgeous display and—inevitably—out comes the digital camera.

So, like a new parent, let me shovel some autumn colours your way for your amusement and envy. And no, I will not be balancing these with shots of strip malls in February.

Here are some photos we took of a bike daytrip down the nearby Blackstone river valley in Rhode Island (Map relative to our place):

Care for a little history with your Fall porn? (Allow me to elevate this to the "Caligula" of blog posts) The area is actually quite fascinating—it's the site of the original industrial revolution in the Americas. What this means is that the Blackstone river has many 19^th Century factories and factory towns along it, as well as a canal that used to carry barges of materials. The barges were pulled by horse, and the equestrian path remains as a bike trail.

Here's the canal with the house of one of the factory owners.

Here's an example of an old factory that has been converted to—what else?—condos. Here's the map of the factory with workers' quarters on the right, and factory owner's house on the left, with canal.

So what do the boys think of all this biking, spectacular scenery, and fascinating history? Let's ask:

Boys, tell the good folks in the internet how much fun we're having. Go on, tell them. Tell them!

The Museum of Bad Art

Okay, I have visited this site three times now, and each time collapsed in fits of giggles. It must be shared.

The Museum of Bad Art features a variety of carefully-chosen works, lovingly displayed in the basement of the Dedham Community Theatre in Boston, "just outside the men's room".

Its mandate: "the world's only museum dedicated to the collection, preservation, exhibition and celebration of bad art in all its forms".

Some notable samples from its extensive collection:

"Lucy in the Field with Flowers" Oil on canvas by Unknown 24" × 30" Acquired from trash in Boston Commentary: "As with all great art, extended viewing reveals endless layers of mysteries: What is Norman Mailer's head doing on an innocent grandma's body, and are those crows or F-16's skimming the hills?"	"Dog" Acrylic on canvas by Unknown Donated by Elizabeth and Sorn Poeckle, Copenhagen, Denmark Commentary: "A remarkable fusion of ski resort and wolf puppy — stoical in his yellow-eyed silence, frozen beneath the ice-capped peak, Dog elequently [sic] challenges the viewer to rexamine [sic] old concepts of landscape."
"Sunday on the Pot With George" Acrylic on canvas by Unknown 22" × 37" Donated by Jim Schulman	"He was a friend of mine" By Jack Owen 18" × 24" Watercolor

I don't know what this says about me, but some of them I kind of like.

Take a left where?

I'm compiling a list of my favorite local place names. Here's what I have so far:

Pawtucket, Rhode Island

Pronounced "puh-TUK-it", comes from the Narragansett language meaning "at the falls in the river (tidal stream)" (Wikipedia)

Seekonk, Massachusetts

What a great name. Seekonk. Narragansett for "wild black goose" or Wampanoag for "mouth of stream" or "wild goose" (Wikipedia)

Woonsocket, Rhode Island

"place of steep descent" in Nipmuck (Wikipedia)

Plainville, Massachusetts

Origins are self-evident (especially if you've ever been there)

It goes without saying that most are aboriginal in origin—and thank goodness for that; I for one would rather live in a "Seekonk" than a "Mansfield" (or, for that matter, a "Toronto" as opposed to a "York").

But my personal fave thus far is "Braintree". Creepy and apt—given its proximity to über-educated Boston. Well, it too is an indigenous name of sorts; named after a town in England, which in turn derives from Celtic (maybe):

The origin of the name Braintree is obscure. [...] One theory is that Braintree was originally Branoc's tree, Branoc apparently being an old personal name. [...] Other scholars say the "Brain" element in the word is accepted to be derived from "Brid/ Brigantia/ Bride/ Bigit/ Britain". This is the ancient Celtic, and possibly pre-celtic name for the Goddess of the land of Britain. [...] "Tree" comes from the Saxon suffix, more usually spelt "try", denoting a big village.
(yeah, Wikipedia, where else?)

After the Storm

Blogging the First World War

I just stumbled upon this: it's a real-time blog of a soldier in World War I. That is, his letters home are being posted to the blog exactly 90 years after they were written. Here's an explanatory excerpt from the first entry:

Harry Lamin was born in August 1887 in the East Midlands of England. In 1917, aged 29, he joined up to fight in the First World War [...] During his time in the army, he wrote letters home to his brother and sister. They were kept and handed down to me, his grandson.

I have transcribed the letters and added commentary so that references can make sense.

What has been produced is a moving and poignant account of an ordinary man's experiences in an extraordinary situation [...]The intention of this blog is to publish the letters exactly 90 years after Harry wrote them. His first letter from the training camp was written on February 7th 1917. It will be published on the blog on February 7th 2007. [...] If you wish to find out Harry's fate then you'll have to access the blog as the new letters arrive.

What an amazing idea.

Home cookin', double happiness

There are two great guilty pleasures offered to non-Americans living the American dream:

1. making fun of American food
2. eating American food

Both equally guilty, yet both equally tasty nonetheless.

With that in mind, I take you on a short tour of some local establishments. First off, a fine little nook down the road whose name escapes me at the moment. I ordered—what else?—a burger. Avert your eyes, vegetarians! (or those with heart conditions. Or both: that means you, David)

Next stop, a little place called "Patty's", just down the road from our new digs. It specialises in breakfasts and is always packed.

They offer home fries with everything and the waitress always asks: "You want fried onions on the home fries?" Friends, a word of advice: if you are ever at Patties in Norton Massachusetts and someone asks if you want fried onions on the home fries, do not hesitate: say "Yes. Yes I would.".

It was, needless to say, delicious.

(Mark, when you come, this the Norton's answer to "Good Time Chico's". We shall dine like Kings!)

Finally, let's take a break from dining out and head to the supermarket, and oh—what do they have here? A cookbook section! Let's see what America reads in the kitchen:

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In the spirit of full disclosure
I am making shameless fun of local cuisine, but actually there are lots of good places to eat around here, particularly in Boston and Providence. However, the Twinkie cookbook — that I did not make up.