Author Archives: Sam Ross Jr.

To give up or to keep fighting? That is the question for the populace unhappy with the way things are transpiring in the nation in general, and in Greater Johnstown specifically.

My brother, a recent convert to the voting world, is about to give up already due to a feeling it really doesn’t matter. There are many like him, those thinking the system is set up to ignore the wants and needs of the common people and instead follow the lead of the elites who seem to control it all.

Others keep fighting the uphill battle, and for that they deserve some praise.

Two of these men, John DeBartola and Joseph Taranto, were in my neighborhood Saturday collecting signatures on a petition to secure a place on the ballot for elected office (I will allow you to contemplate which one).

You may have heard of these two in connection with their Revitalize Johnstown efforts, with a huge Facebook presence. Think of them as Batman and Robin for the underserved.

It was the Gotham City establishment that requested help from Batman and Robin of comic book fame. DeBartola and Taranto, our two “Capped Crusaders,” each of whom wore a knit pullover cap while on their search for signatures today, instead are hated by those in control.

The main reason for that is DeBartola and Taranto look to hold accountable all people in a position of power. They wield freedom of information requests like a skilled surgeon uses a scalpel.

They attend meetings. They ask difficult questions. They are more than willing to speak out publicly when things are just not right.

As I told both of them today, they are doing the public service job that the media used to perform, but for some reason — both nationally and locally — no longer has the stomach to do.

Just the past week it appears the noise they raised over unhealthy conditions in Johnstown public housing led to complaints being addressed.

They are equal opportunity in that if someone approaches them with a problem – a legitimate complaint – they will attempt to help.

DeBartola has become a go-to-source to publicize violence in the Greater Johnstown School District, being provided videos of the many altercations and posting them online.

They are critics of our nonprofit culture in Johnstown and how that has become a private club of sorts for the movers and shakers, often with excessive salaries paid.

Because these two are so high-profile, they are being deluged with tips of wrongdoings around the area. Some they can address. Some they cannot.

But the most important thing is that instead of sitting in their living rooms in front of a television set, or lamenting life while nursing a beer at the local bar, they are actively trying to do something.

Their candidacies have and will be opposed by the ruling class. They will be mammoth underdogs in any political race they enter.

They realize this. They are not naive. But they are fighting the good fight, a noteworthy thing in troubled times.

“We now live in a nation where doctors destroy health, lawyers destroy justice, universities destroy knowledge, governments destroy freedom, the press destroys information, religion destroys morals and our banks destroy the economy.” Chris Hedges

I came across this quote, plopped totally out of context on the landing page of a web site I frequent for precious metals investment information, and thought it’s the kind of thing I might have written.

Yours truly and this Hedges guy, whoever he is, are kindred spirits, or so I speculated. As it turns out, we’re not even close to that.

I did some research, the sort of thing journalists used to do routinely back in the day, before agendas replaced facts in reporting of “the news.”

Admittedly, I took the shortcut of using a Wikipedia hit that came up after searching the Chris Hedges name. But I believe it’s fair to trust the left-leaning content at Wikipedia in the case of Hedges, a self-described socialist and anarchist.

This guy has all the credentials a far-left sort would need to impress fellow travelers in these troubled times. He and the wife even are hard-core vegans, saving the environment one cow fart at a time.

Hedges also was arrested during Occupy Wall Street, worked for such notable leftist publications as The New York Times and Truthdig, and generally crosses all the t’s and dots all the i’s of the progressive litmus tests.

OK, so he did a stint hosting a cable television show on the Russian-government owned RT America before it was closed down, but no one’s perfect.

What I find instructive is that both Hedges and I separately have come to the conclusion that most institutions in these United States are rotten to the core. We just got there from vastly different points of view.

Doctors destroy health? You bet. Consider the COVID vaccine push, maskholes, and various other bastardizations of our healthcare system in which doctors can be compensated based on keeping you from demanding too much care, to be paid by your insurers.

Lawyers destroying justice? Have you witnessed the proliferation of ambulance chasers ramping up the cost to product goods, or even to provide medical care in this country? Are you aware of how far too many prominent politicians used a law degree as a steppingstone?

Universities destroying knowledge? Censorship and identity politics-based discrimination uphold that charge.

Governments warring against freedom, press destroying information, religion destroying morals and banks destroying the economy. It’s hard to argue with any of those observations.

Likely, Hedges would complain that doctors are not draconian enough in mask and vaccine pushes, that lawyers are not doing enough pro bono work for social justice warriors causes. He presumably thinks universities are too open to opposing views, governments allow too much freedom to conservatives, Christianity must go but all other religions are fine and dandy, and banks are bad mainly in that they have the temerity to demand to know in advance how their loans might be repaid by the borrowers.

To repeat, Hedges and I no doubt disagree on the particulars. But we agree on the dysfunctional nature of our current society, with so many of the basic foundations having been turned 180 degrees away from what they formerly were based upon and now are being used to further political agendas at the expense of what is fair and just.

You don’t need Spidey senses to recognize all is far from well, and to continue on the current path is to seal the eventual date for the complete breakdown of the so-called “system.”

I see it. Hedges sees it. Maybe you’d see it, too, if you only took the time to notice.

I did not watch a single second of this year’s Super Bowl broadcast, instead contenting myself to spend nearly an hour catching up with a cousin via cell phone, and then watching a lot of Science Channel repeats of NASA’s Unexplained Files and similar programming, all of which provided no threat of me being updated on the game.

But I was curious about the eventual Super Bowl outcome, so I got online a few minutes back and was stunned, absolutely stunned (sarcasm) to see the Kansas City Chiefs had won with the help of some controversial officiating.

And I was reminded of a former colleague, since moved on to his eternal reward, who used to opine that the NFL was not fixed, but it was controlled.

I’m so glad I didn’t invest four-plus hours of my life to see this unfold. I imagine domestic violence calls are going to surge in Philadelphia in coming hours.

And yet there is some good to be gained from this outcome if one invokes the German concept of schadenfreude, which means taking pleasure in the misfortune of others.

Because Philadelphia lost, we can celebrate the fact that:

• We won’t have to hear gloating from CNBC resident loudmouth Jim Cramer and all his fellow Philly Eagles fans on that cable financial network who have spent the past couple of weeks reminding us how great the Eagles are.
• We here in Johnstown, AKA Filthydelphia West, presumably won’t have to deal with property damage from unruly Eagles victory celebrations.
• Also Filthydelphia West won’t need to make plans for a victory parade in coming days.
• Steelers fans won’t have to endure bragging Eagles fans boasting about a Super Bowl win.
• Our governor Josh Shapiro, who as attorney general ran the last presidential election in this state the way the refs ran the Super Bowl, gets to stare at a Chiefs flag in his office for the next week after having lost one of those silly governors’ bets.
• The color green now can be used to identify meat gone bad, or St. Patrick’s Day beer, and not be mistaken for an endorsement of the Eagles.

Super Bowl LVII will be played today, that’s 57 for those of us using traditional numbers, not Roman numerals.

A quick check of online numerology reveals 57 to be a number of positive energies and spiritual enlightenment. Also, so the story goes, 57 suggests getting rid of bad habits and being on the right path.

Alas, at this time I cannot be certain I will actually get around to watching the game, despite all its supposed positive attractions.

Certainly, I won’t watch six-plus hours of pregame hype for a contest that, even with its traditionally bloated halftime display, won’t run much more than four hours.

There was a time when it bordered on the sacrilegious to suggest to me not watching the big game. As a youth I died – figuratively speaking – when the AFL teams from Kansas City and Oakland were hammered by Green Bay in the first two Super Bowls.

When Joe Namath and the New York Jets allowed the AFL to start to win these title games in Super Bowl III, ironically only after having agreed to merge with the NFL, it was a joyous time.

Through the years, I’ve attended six Super Bowls as a sports writer for Johnstown and Pittsburgh newspapers. With any luck, I’ll never need to go to another.

But I did host numerous Super Bowl parties after I retired, a practice ended by COVID hysteria and general lack of interest on my part. My wife lobbied me hard to have another this year, just to get the gang together before more of us died or were rendered immobile. I opted out.

The pro football of my youth and years as a writer, an entertaining and apolitical diversion, has given way to a Woke thing with preachy slogans plastered on fields and helmets.

Identity politics has invaded what once was a meritocracy.

Like so many other sports leagues, the NFL pays fawning tribute to the hard left, without requiring proof of the legitimacy of the cause.

Virtue signalling is the dominant thing.

Along the way, the league has downplayed the long-term physical impact of the game on its players. A recent study by Boston University noted degenerative brain disease in just under 92 percent of the brains of former NFL players that were autopsied.

The league also doesn’t want to touch on the negative effect of gamblers addicted to betting on the games, or average fans being forced to get second mortgages to pay for seat licenses for home game tickets or to fund a trip to a Super Bowl and the sky-high ticket prices for it should their team advance that far.

This Super Bowl begins with a taint, particularly in the case of Kansas City being there, owing largely to some controversial officiating.

The Philadelphia Eagles also benefited from at least one major officiating miss in their conference title win, a non-catch that was allowed. But, considering the injury-riddled San Francisco opposition, the Eagles would have won easily even if that call had been made correctly.

The Chiefs’ win over the Cincinnati Bengals was much closer, and featured a do-over for Kansas City of an unsuccessful third-down failure. There also was an intentional grounding call on Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow that was suspect.

On another play, Burrow was hit late, an apparent roughing penalty, but there was no call.

However, near game’s end, a scrambling KC quarterback Patrick Mahomes was hit out of bounds. Flag. Fifteen additional yards. Game-winning field goal for the Chiefs.

Replays show two KC offensive linemen could have been flagged for holding on the play, which would have negated the late hit call and the entire play. But they were not penalized.

The fact that virtually all of the close calls went in Kansas City’s favor has prompted a lot of complaints, even from disinterested observers. Just do an internet search for “AFC championship game rigged” and you will get a lot of stories and videos to that end.

NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, borrowing a page from Democrats, was denying the reality with ridiculous overstatement at his annual Super Bowl press conference.

Of league officiating, Goodell said, “I don’t think it’s ever been better.”

At least he didn’t blame the Russians, or race, or even a Chinese balloon.

Considering I live in a town that fast has become Filthydelphia West, with many negative consequences, the only desirable outcome of this Super Bowl for me would be for both teams to lose. Since that can’t happen, I’m not sure how much time I want to invest in watching the game.

Andrew Tobias provided great advice in a 1980 book with the puckish title “Getting by on $100,000 a Year.”

Earning $100,000 a year is notable even now. Back in 1980, it was about five times the average median family income in these United States.

If one got past the provocative title, it was discovered that Tobias, a prolific writer on investing, offered some real-world guidance on making the most of one’s money, no matter how much was earned. I remember one example in which he explained that making an investment didn’t have to be limited to buying stocks, bonds, real estate, collectibles or the like.

Instead, if you liked tuna fish, and a store had a 40-percent-off sale, the smart thing to do was buy a case or two, instead of a few cans. You’ve booked an immediate 40 percent return on your money.

I think of Tobias often as I try to navigate economic change, particularly in times of relatively high inflation as now.

Even before this breakout in overall prices, and particularly in energy, I was convinced it had to come. That’s why, three years back, given the chance to lock in my natural gas utility rate at $2.69 per thousand cubic feet (mcf), I leaped at the chance.

Gas bills in these parts are divided into paying some to the company that pipes the natural gas to your door, in my case Peoples, and the rest to the company that supplies that gas itself. That also can be Peoples, but the cost tends to be high

My natural gas commodity provider was Dominion, which has left the field, at least for my zip code, and ceded its accounts to something called igsenergy (all lower case). These good folks at igs sent me a letter informing me of the change, due to me having opted for them.

I called the phone number provided on the letter and said I’d made no such decision. Yeah, well, you were just automatically transferred to us, said the tired voice on the other end of the line. Many others had called regarding this very same bit of misinformation.

This did not give me a great first impression of igs. But the company agreed to honor the remaining time on my agreement, so it was acceptable.

Still, I knew a day of reckoning was coming. Ironically, a field representative for igs stopped by a few months back to chat and was astounded by my low rate. What he was offering was considerably higher. Color me surprised.

Now, I’m running out of time to make a decision. I’ve had email discussions with igs customer service, and even called today to speak directly to a representative.

What I’m having trouble understanding is the igs gas rates, currently $5.99/mcf for a 12-month commitment and $6.99/mcf for a 36-month fixed contract.

When first I started checking on the igs web site, in early January, the numbers were $5.99 and $7.99, respectively.

If you check the March futures contract for natural gas, you would see the price has dropped from $3.72/mcf Jan. 5 to $2.514/mcf Feb. 10.

No one you are allowed to speak with at igs can explain what exactly is going on in terms of a commodity dropping about 30 percent in just over a month, but the 12-month price charged by igs remaining unchanged and the 36-month dropping just $1, about 12.5 percent.

It flummoxes them that I have a little depth of knowledge on this subject, having lost my butt trading the UNG exchange-traded fund that tracks the price of natural gas.

The igs customer service people cite price volatility to account for their seemingly elevated pricing. OK, but as a company, you just buy futures to hedge your exposure. For example, you have me for 36 months at $6.99/mcf, and who knows how many others. You can buy futures with expirations over that time span either giving you the right to buy or sell natural gas at this given price.

That way, no matter what happens to prices in the interim, whether they rise, fall or remain static, the net effect can be zero or close enough to zero to make the price volatility a nonfactor. You make your money on the spread between what you have contracted to pay for the natural gas, perhaps directly from a driller or pipeline company, and the higher price that you are selling it to me.

This is how farmers and industrial companies hedge their commodity risk, the very reason a futures market was first created. Why can’t igs do this and offer me a better rate, closer to the spot, or near-month futures price?

Lacking any acceptable explanation for their pricing from igs, now I’m checking around for alternative suppliers and have found at least one company offering a three-year deal at $5.59/mcf. That’s about 20 percent less than igs.

This company, Pennsylvania Energy, will be getting a call from me Monday morning.

Based on my past year’s mcf natural gas consumption, as reported in my latest bill, I will save about $157 a year over the igs 36-month offer if I go with Pennsylvania Energy.

Tobias would be proud. I can buy a lot of tuna fish with the savings.

It was many years back that an executive with the Johnstown Chiefs hockey team lectured me on the strengths of Johnstown.

In his defense, he probably didn’t realize at the time that I was born and raised here. Likely he identified me as yet another hired hand from elsewhere, like him (aren’t they all?). On the contrary, I’m a lifer, having lived all my 67 years and change to date in the Greater Johnstown area.

But unlike too many blind partisans here and elsewhere, I don’t check my brain at the door. I can see the community’s warts as well as its strengths.

At the time, I noted to this hockey guy that Johnstown was losing population radically, was on its collective butt economically and the league of which it was a member was getting too big for Johnstown.

Eventually, I told him, when ownership tired of losing money, the team would be gone. And this came to pass.

The economic situation here prompted me to shift to a Pittsburgh newspaper to secure my future and eventually I retired from that job. But I never moved; just did a lot of commuting.

To repeat, I like it here, which is why I continue to live within a few miles of City Hall. Admittedly, I like it less and less as we become Filthydelphia West, and our collective political leadership becomes less and less confidence-inspiring.

What really irks me is the creature known as Vision Together 2025 or, as I call it, Myopia 2025.

There have been many critics of this operation, most notably in recent years when it was hatching a plan in secret to flood the area with refugees of Afghanistan violence.

At first the Myopia 2025 people denied it all. Forced to fess up, they told us, in effect, we peasants were too stupid to realize how good this would be for us and our community.

The Myopia CEO at the time, another person with roots elsewhere, eventually fell on his sword, leaving the position open until today – with the publisher of the local fish wrapper, bird cage liner print product leaving that job after having been named to the Myopia position.

There is talk – unsubstantiated but not unbelievable – that he got a $30,000 raise to assume this new position, which brings me to one ongoing gripe.

In a word, our economy is depressed. The only growth industry, besides crime and public housing, is our overabundance of nonprofit operations.

Myopia 2025 just happens to be another of these nonprofit organizations, put together to promote this or that, largely on the basis of donations and government handouts. Despite having to pass the begging bowl to remain in existence, always, it seems, they are able to pay the head honchos like royalty.

The boards are populated by business leaders and community elites including elected officials, many of whom also are compensated to work for operations under the nonprofit category, being well-paid in those roles.

A cynic might suggest that all this community activism is less about altruism and more about making a buck in a town that hasn’t been vibrant economically since 1977, when yet another flood sealed the fate of Bethlehem Steel.

Forced into the light of day, Myopia 2025 is having public meetings and going to Uncle Sam for more and more funding. Formed in 2014, the organization’s web site lists seven objectives to be achieved by 2025, hence the name.

Do we dare dream that if they have not reached the goals by 2025, they will move on to greener pastures and leave us backward folks alone? I doubt it.

With all due credit – and apologies – to Jeff Foxworthy, we’re massaging his “you might be redneck if . . .” shtick for our own use.

And so we present: If this (fill in the blank) is the case, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you read of two Republican members of local government councils being shot to death in New Jersey over the past week, in ostensibly unrelated incidents even though there are precious few facts that have been released to prove that, and you were perfectly willing to accept that it was not political, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you learned that stroke-afflicted Pennsylvania Senator John Fetterman couldn’t make it through five weeks of service without checking into the hospital and you are flabbergasted by this, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you proudly cite Pulitzer Prize-winning and since discredited Lamestream media reporting of Trump’s “Russiagate” hoax, but are mum on a Pulitzer Prize-winning author writing it was the U.S. that sabotaged (as in blew it up) the Nord Stream pipeline, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you think the FBI is an even-handed organization that would never sink to partisan witch hunts, despite mounting evidence to the contrary on many subjects, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you think it’s great that our Federal debt is about $31.5 trillion and you can’t understand what all the fuss is about over the government once again bumping against the spending ceiling – just increase it like always – you’re probably a Democrat.

If you think Hunter Biden is no worse than a poor, misunderstood guy being unfairly targeted for political reasons, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you think it was quite justifiable, however, to lie, cheat, steal and bully various members of the Trump administration, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you think it’s perfectly OK for school districts to indoctrinate kids on shifting their gender identity, to rewrite history and teach that bastardized version, to penalize achievers and generally to conduct a socialistic re-education program that would make Chairman Mao blush, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you think anyone in Washington, D.C., on Jan. 6, 2021, who wasn’t a Democratic voter, member of Black Lives Matter or Antifa, or otherwise steeped in left-wing credentials, is guilty of insurrection, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you think it’s okay for media members to abandon the tradition of nonpartisan coverage and instead indulge in spreading falsehoods if it furthers their agenda, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you think AOC and the squad are anything but self-absorbed, loudmouth intellectual lightweights, you’re probably a Democrat.

If you have read this and now are eagerly looking to scour my social media accounts (there are none), seeking my address for petty retribution, or are dialing the FBI to report me as a domestic terrorist, you’re probably a Democrat.

I encountered some unicorns today at the Richland Walmart vision center – unicorns as in rare and highly useful people, not the mythical one-horned equine.

Let us begin with Dr. Richard Way. Of late I’ve encountered poor, lackadaisical service almost on every front, but as I told Dr. Way at the end of my vision checkup, he was a welcome exception.

Begin with attention to detail and thoroughness, something appreciated in any matter, but doubly so when the subject is one’s eyes.

Dr. Way practiced good “chairside” manner, carefully explaining what he was testing me for and what results he was getting.

Sometimes, even with medical care, one gets the impression they are just a stop on an assembly line. But Dr. Way took as much time as was required to do his job in painstaking detail.

The good doctor was amiable and conversational, but still got the job done, another bonus. Too many people these days can be nice and pleasant, or efficient, but not both simultaneously.

My vision had changed, which Dr. Way explained sometimes can be the unlikely result of cataracts. I had just a trace of a cataract when last I’d been examined. Now I was up to a 1 or 1.5 in each in eye, on a scale that reaches four and generally calls for surgical intervention at 3.

But I’m fine for now. By the time Dr. Way was finished with my exam, he had a prescription that will do away with the falloff in vision clarity I’d been experiencing.

I made it a point to note to him that I’d been impressed with his work. This got us into a discussion of society in general. I’m 67 years of age and Dr. Way is a tad younger, but comes from the same kind of upbringing in that you do your job, to the best of your ability, at all times.

Sadly, this sort of ethic has been lost amidst a cacophony of artificially high self-esteem, rights over responsibilities, gender confusion and general socialist navel-gazing.

Dr. Way walked me out to a worker, Mrs. Sanders, who was in the midst of trying to juggle multiple phone calls. When she was done, she helped me order a new pair of glasses, with the upgraded prescription.

Like Dr. Way, Mrs. Sanders was pleasant and proficient. It was quick work and I was soon on my way to order some pizza to take home for dinner.

I’d be remiss in not mentioning the young man who did the preliminary testing for glaucoma and peripheral vision. I didn’t get his name, a lapse on my part. But he, too, did his work while keeping it pleasant.

What a welcome change this whole experience was from what I’ve been encountering recently. If only it could be like this more often.

The spinner for the area school threat game stopped on Westmont Hilltop in recent weeks, with predictable results.

Schools were closed and parents panicked after someone affixed a threatening message to a high school entrance door.

Coming so soon after threats of violence had closed down the Greater Johnstown School District, it seemed to be a copycat incident, with copycat administration response.

It was interesting to read that this Westmont note was particularly well-written, a curious bit of information shared where little else was.

Eventually, the alleged perpetrator was caught after breaking a window at our relatively new elementary school, this in the wee hours of the morning.

And a lot of questions are being asked by concerned citizenry. I’ve got questions, too, as a taxpayer in the Westmont district, but would be stunned to receive legitimate answers.

Reports on social media, which around these parts have a few posters who are extremely good, better than our professional reporters, have identified the person as a teenage girl, perhaps 14 years of age.

Of course officials can tell us nothing, underage kid and all that. Adolescents can run wild with little fear of the public learning about their infamy in these enlightened times.

They receive relative slaps on the wrist for their transgressions, with magically cleansed or sealed records, and all is forgiven due to their age.

If you’ve ever been around young people, you understand they mature at much different rates. Some 14-year-olds have the outlook of a 30-year old. And, conversely, some 30-year-olds act like 14-year olds.

But those 30-year-olds don’t get the pass on misbehaving that the actual 14-year-olds do.

Maturity is relative and not to be determined solely by age. Remember, Mozart is said to have composed his first symphony at about 9 years of age.

Details from social media said that when this sweet, young girl who threatened Westmont was taken into custody, she was in possession of a loaded gun, a sledgehammer and a butcher’s knife. Supposedly there was a suicide note recovered, too, somewhere, as well as some sort of school-shooting manifesto.

Also, according to social media, she is a cyber school student of the Westmont district who has been missing for a week or so.

This speaks to a constant factor in these types of incidents – parenting, or lack thereof.

The privacy blanket also prevents underperforming parents from ever having to deal with being outed for their poor work.

One hand washes the other.

Now the clock is ticking toward the time when the next disturbed local youth decides to get some attention by making a threat against his or her school district.

The reward, in their sick minds, is great and the downside, in unfortunate reality, is demonstrably small.

Ineptitude or indifference, the why really doesn’t matter. What does matter is precious few people I run into during the course of life are doing a good job.

Allow me to give you a slice of my experience from today to illustrate the point.

For starters, consider the ongoing ordeal of dealing with the state’s Medicaid estate recovery people regarding my late mother. She died April 3, 2022. I may just have gotten this thing resolved on Feb. 6, 2023.

Maybe.

To understand this, know that long-term care as consumed most often by older people, is expensive and insurance pays a small part, if any. When costs easily surpass $11,000 a month, many people quickly exhaust their life savings and are shunted onto Medicaid.

In order to preserve the cash value of a life insurance policy for a burial, it must be signed over to a funeral home. To protect a house, there is a homestead exemption, that ends with the death of the owner.

My mother was a woman of modest means at best. She died with thousands of dollars in her checking account only due to the government stimulus payments.

Medicaid, rightly, wants paid as much as possible from a deceased’s assets if they’d been put on Medicaid as a last resort. We were prepared to write a check to Medicaid for our mother’s checking account assets, minus such costs as having her tombstone engraved and paying some lingering utility bills for her house.

By the way, my mother’s house is uninhabitable, having had the water and sewer disconnected physically in order to end the money drain due to the ongoing war on homeowners being practiced here under the guise of sewer improvements. Also there is structural damage to the foundation, most likely due to mine subsidence.

Medicaid wanted my brother and I to sell the house and send them the money. We offered simply to sign over the deed to them.

They didn’t want it.

I took the lead in dealing with Medicaid, from reporting my mother’s death in timely fashion, to providing them time and again details of her financial situation at her time of death.

When the Medicaid people got a bit aggressive, I reached out to a long-time acquaintance who specializes in elder law and even works at times for Medicaid. He basically advised me to tell them to stuff it regarding the house.

If we opened an estate regarding our mother, he pointed out and I already knew, it would have been upside down financially from the get-go.

Nearly a month ago I reached out – again – to Medicaid for a status update. I was required to email the same accounting of the situation I had sent so many previous times, most recently a sheaf of various documents.

I was told we were almost over the finish line. Tiring of the wait for the checkered flag, over the weekend I sent the guy I was speaking with – and his boss – an email reminder that nothing had happened in almost a month.

I got a call today that I missed, and a pathetic voice mail was left indicating the guy had been planning on sending a letter, but he guessed it never got done. He promised an email with the final accounting, and miracles, I got it today.

All that is left is for me to write the check for $3,300 or so and we’re done. I think.

Feeling emboldened by this modest success, I decided to push my luck regarding an ongoing medical matter. It was decided at a Jan. 20 regular checkup that I should have a stress test and it would be scheduled for me by that doctor’s office.

Two weeks later, considering how on this last visit the office couldn’t even find my blood work report that ostensibly had been sent to them from a lab, I thought maybe yet another matter had slipped through the cracks. I called and was told I’d have to talk to someone else, and not before the end of that week.

I waited even longer, until the beginning of this week, and called again. After working my way through three people, who all needed my date of birth, address, phone number or combinations thereof, I got to the person who handles scheduling.

She’s operating without even basic insurance knowledge, thinking my Medicare Supplement Plan G was just some add on to cover dental and vision. I pointed out it’s the best Medigap plan offered here since Plan F has been sunsetted.

This woman got a little nervous when I emphasized to her this revelation was coming from a guy who used to hold a state license in health insurance.

After some verbal tap-dancing, she assured me the request had been resubmitted with the proper note that I didn’t need a preapproval to have the work done. Because I’m that guy, I asked for the number of the central scheduling people so I could pursue this myself.

I called that number and that next woman also did some verbal tap-dancing before telling me that, magically, the approval had just come in and they would call me to schedule.

In fact, she added, she could schedule it right then. I took her up on that offer.

But in this case, or that of my deceased mother, why does it have to be so difficult? Why can’t people deliver on their promises?

Why can they not simply be required to do their job at some degree of proficiency, or hit the pavement?