The Wages of Corporate Governance

Yesterday evening I learned that a friend out on the west coast, a musician, has been diagnosed with advanced metastatic cancer. Probably due to being a life-long two pack a day smoker. He's about my age but he'll be lucky if he lives through Christmas. Realistically there's no long term hope. In a peculiar way this is a blessing, because he's an alcoholic on a downward spiral that was sure to leave him dying penniless in the gutter — now he can die with some remaining dignity, with a roof over his head. The pity, though, is that he doesn't have health insurance and I can't help but think that if he had had access to health care the last few years, one, he might have been treated for addictive behavior and, two, his cancer might have been caught at an earlier, treatable stage. It's conceivable that he could have had a relatively normal, productive life for another couple of decades. And he should have had that chance. Instead, it's Goodnight, Vienna.

I'm terribly sorry, Jim, and I wish that society could have done better by you.