Dr. Von Bulow's Articles

So one of my select Bruin buddies also happens to be a patient and the Equinox Fitness spin class/Pilates instructor to the stars. And Pearl knows enough to not take UCLA football very seriously so that means the two of us agree on just about everything (scary.)

As I’m writing I am now old enough to hear Office Manager (OM) Dalila chant “Platinum, Platinum, Platinum” every time she opens up someone else’s mail that has AARP written on the envelope. The good news: I’m mature and smart enough to consistently actively listen to women (on a good day, even OM Dalila.) And I’ve always listened to Pearl.

A few days ago, Pearl was telling me that in the course of helping her Pilates students gain strength, balance, and flexibility, she hears all kinds of complaints about stuff like headaches, TMJ type soreness, and even some riffs on teeth grinding and clenching.

So can you really truly be physically fit…but not so fit above the shoulders? And how can our body run like a Ferrari if our chewing machine has gone 300,000 miles without a tune-up?

Over 43 million Americans suffer the consequences of teeth clenching; some 23 million more live with migraine headaches (and still millions more with tension headaches.)

It’s interesting (to me anyway) that only about 6% of the 43 million grind their teeth. Chronic teeth grinding actually flattens teeth down until they look like table tops. The cause is neurological; there’s no stopping the habit pattern, only managing it. A traditional plastic bite splint allows the jaw to move smoothly while protecting tooth structure.

So if your teeth don’t look like table tops and you’re not grinding away as you’re reading, you don’t need a traditional bite splint or mouth guard. And if you wear the traditional appliance at night it might be doing more harm than good for about half of you reading this. In fact, 20% of the folks suffering from chronic headache, muscle soreness, clenching (all migraine sufferers also clench), and limited jaw movement do so while being treated.

So when I use the term “deprogrammer” I am not referring to some kind of intense debriefing session you’d have to go through if you were kidnapped by and then rescued from a cult. I’m just talkin’ dental appliances.

Deprogrammers are appliances that fit like upper orthodontic retainers; they’re modified so that only the upper and lower two front teeth touch. Back teeth do not touch and can’t trigger the muscle contractions associated with tension and migraine headaches. When the muscles of mastication finally get a chance to relax or recover; they are deprogrammed.

The FDA found such appliances provide at least 75% relief 85% of the time for migraine headache sufferers.

In addition to helping gain relief for folks, the deprogrammer is a great diagnostic tool. The appliance actually guides the clinician to making the right choices in resolving functional/TMJ-type challenges. When the muscles are relaxed and the jaw joint is seated the only variable remaining is teeth alignment and occlusion (the way upper and lower teeth meet.)

If the trigger for all the symptoms comes from a collision in back, the bite can be balanced so all contacting teeth can meet evenly. If the front teeth are disrupting the harmony of things, the solution is more likely orthodontic.

And almost all headaches have at least an overlay of symptoms generated by glitches coming from oral function.

The deprogrammer appliance is an excellent instrument in the dental toolbox. If you suffer headaches or have difficulty chewing everything you want or just don’t feel comfortable with your bite, ask your dentist about the deprogrammer. Relief could be less than the cost of passing through the Sheriff’s latest traffic sting operation on Las Tunas (or your visits to Starbuck’s between now and Tax Day.)

Whoopi Goldberg talks about her recent experience at the dentist caused by neglecting her teeth and how the health of your mouth is linked to your overall health.

I’m not sure I selected this title because I just saw a movie or because I just dropped 11 grand on new hardware that doesn’t seem to let me put the dang title in the middle of the page just the way I like. But then maybe I’m just looking for some capitalistic love in all the wrong places.

So alright, you win. It was the movie.

And admit it; you guys probably have some innocent guilty pleasures just like me. Stuff like chocolate, purses, shoes, cigars; or maybe even flossing, or something totally cool…like USC football.

Don’t know about you but I don’t necessarily need any company when I’m indulging. Especially when I’m watchin’ Trojan road games or going to Michael Moore movies.

Why am I such a fan of Moore’s stuff? There are times when I’m practically positive I think Moore is awesome just because most of my molar jockey brethren can’t stand him (that alone is better than any fish oil or load of amino acids for my heart and soul.)

There’s more. I’m at least open to Moore’s views most of the time and again, that could just be my basic, usual, and customary anti-conservative DDS reflex. But I do have to admit I like the guy’s audacity; he’s totally fearless. Fearless enough to pull an armored truck up to AIG’s double-doors and ask for the Bailout money back. Audacious enough to surround all of Wall Street with yellow crime scene tape and reassure the Gordon Gecko wannabes inside, “You’ll like Federal prison; it’s a nice place.”

So how in the world does someone who graduated from conservative USC become an ardent fan of Michael Moore? I guess maybe the avocado doesn’t fall too far from the SoCal tree.

Moore didn’t go to college and I went mostly on my Dad’s check from the Teamsters Union. Moore’s Dad supported a family with a union job and gave his children advantages he never had. My dad had twice my brains and never had the educational opportunities he gave me. I bet Moore’s Dad never turned away from folks down on their luck; I know my Dad didn’t.

It might just be me, but Capitalism: A Love Story seemed more like a tribute to whom we used to be more than a sarcastic reference to what we’ve become im Moore’s eyes: a Facebook Fan Page where we fall in love with the concept of being the 1% that has more than 95% of the rest of us all put together.

So do we really want what the B of A and Wal-Mart have become? Do we really want to profit from the death of co-workers and cynically refer to company-owned life insurance as “Dead peasants” policies? Or do we want to send our best science/math students to Wall Street “derivatives” grad school where they can bet we lose our mortgage and hedge that bet by betting against themselves?

The movie’s not about the “S” word. Moore’s concern is that capitalism (more accurately a plutocracy) is causing us to lose sight of democracy. During the last several decades, Moore sees only one surviving American value: Money. Humanity, responsibility, and compassion seem to be fading fast.

By the time the credits are rolling, it’s clear that Moore is anything but maybe the only living lifetime NRA member/Socialist. Instead, Moore comes off as an unrepentant, modern day FDR-admiring New Dealer inspired by the possibilities of a restored democracy fueling opportunities for everyone, including hard-working Americans in the survival mode. And Moore sees the steady decline of unions and the country’s current dilemma as no coincidence.

I’m pretty sure my Dad would agree. And I may be a Trojan molar jockey but I still have my Teamster withdrawal card.

I’m sitting here listening to some Sinatra and thinking about the Kennedys. And isn’t it funny the way I seem to identify more and more with my parents?

Sinatra was there for Mom and Dad and I guess if you took a deep breath, rolled the dice, and still pursued the American Dream during the Depression you were apt to be emotionally attached to FDR.

Some of my more conservative friends will never get this but losing Senator Ted Kennedy to cancer this past week hit me like a loss in the family. I think I understand but I’m not so sure I can really explain.

When I do my “The Secret” thing every morning and click off all the length of stuff that merits my lasting gratitude, I start with my family and follow with my childhood.

Things were pretty innocent back in The Day. A kid could have heroes. I had many. No one could touch Mom and Dad and brother, Jay in the hero department but what if you were twelve years old the morning you saw JFK being sworn in on a biting cold Inauguration Day?

Don’t know about you but I’ve always been a card carrying sucker for inspiration. And maybe it was my impressionable youth but I still haven’t heard anyone more inspiring than President Kennedy. JFK made greatness seem more than possible; he made it seem natural. All you needed was the will and determination. Until that November Dallas motorcade.

When I was 21, I actually shook Robert Kennedy’s hand in Monterey Park the day before he won the California Presidential Primary. I still remember the victory speech. The disbelief that followed moments later still remains.

Within several months, Ted Kennedy and I had both suddenly lost a hero and brother. I know when I got my news that Sunday morning, a bit of my confidence and trust disappeared and never quite returned, replaced by some cynicism that unfortunately has never left.

Ted Kennedy survived some major errors in judgment, even though not all those around him were quite so lucky. He endured family tragedies, public humiliation, and lost his only chance to return a Kennedy Presidency.

I selfishly hoped against hope that Teddy could somehow regain his brothers’ inspiring promise of greatness. Instead, what I was moved to appreciate was Ted Kennedy’s ironclad will to make a difference, take a stand, and never give up.

Senator Ted Kennedy authored some 300 bills that became law. If you or a loved one has ever been confined to a wheelchair or worked for minimum wage or had a child who needed health insurance (there are approximately 6,000,000) or needed a better standard of education you can thank Ted Kennedy.

Ted Kennedy never backed down but always sought collaboration. He was always a stand for the little guy, the right thing, and the opportunity to make the most of a life comprised of faults, all too human.

In 1980, August 2008, and one last time from the voice of his son, the words, “…the work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never die” still touch and inspire.

He definitely wasn’t perfect and he couldn’t be JFK or RFK but he was still my hero.

RIP Teddy.

So what’s more fun than being all geared-up and walking down Rush St. to Starbuck’s the pristine Chicago morning after my Trojans hand the Domers their domes for the eighth year in a row? Yeah, okay, so maybe I’m not counting doing “Friends in Low Places” better than Garth for an open-mouthed captive audience Monday-Thursday but it’s still really cool.

And I know you won’t have a clue if you’re a powder puff blue bruin because this kind of stuff is rarer for you guys than a trip to Pasadena in January. But I digress.

A ticket to the USC-Notre Dame game: $68. Grilled Brats on campus: three bucks. Walking into Gibson’s after a win wearing a USC hoodie and getting a table with no reservations: priceless.

So this was my fifth consecutive trip to Chicago and South Bend for the game, the chapel, the Grotto, and yes, even Touchdown Jesus. Back in 2001, I received a solid, sincere Midwestern “Welcome to Notre Dame Stadium” and nothing’s changed since. For me, the trip has become a pilgrimage.

Truth is, this is the one indulgence the economy, the Piazza (coming soon) and even leaping lizards or leprechauns can’t derail. Arctic air, too many carbs, lousy Pac-10 officials or not, my immune system thrives on trips to the Windy City and South Bend every two years.

And this year, there were no vacations, unless you wanna call the hell I put myself through on local golf courses recovery time. Just seemed like this time around it made sense to play things safe. And when I started wondering about South Bend, the voices I heard seemed to be coming from my brother Jay and Bobby McPherrin; they were harmonizing “Don’t worry, be happy…it’s almost October.”

So I rarely go to Mass these days, don’t place flowers at cemeteries, and haven’t even really prayed since Mom died. But that doesn’t mean I don’t talk with and dream about Mom and Dad and Jay all the time, especially on Sundays. The Pasadena restaurant pasta sauce almost passes the Mama Von Bulow test but the lack of homemade unconditional love always gets in the way of a strong “thumbs up.”

Every two years at South Bend, spare ticket or not, Saturday is all about quality time with brother Jay, my all-time marketing director and Trojan fanatic mentor. And it’s amazing how your big brother never stops having your back, being your protector or guardian.

Went solo to Chicago this year and spent most of a week with the Days, a TC family that makes the Huxtables look dysfunctional (and that’s even including Brian.) Hung out with a young Jesuit at Long Beach International, shared umbrellas with USC Chaplin Father Lawrence at the Friday rally at the Naval Pier; I think maybe Jay was tryin’ to tell me something.

And when I finally made it to my stadium seat, I spent a few minutes wiggling my fingers, toes, and ears hoping to avoid pre-game frostbite when I heard, “Jaaack! Dr. Von Bulooow!!!” Wound up sitting next to our own TCHS/USC football hero, my Facebook buddy, Desmond Reed and his girlfriend.

I think my brother, the Jesuits and other divine powers that be kept the game close out of respect for a special day precious few will ever experience. And that’s why I still have the greatest big brother any grad from even the University of Spoiled Children could ever have.

So if you go to Webster’s and look up “insure” and “ensure” the words are virtually interchangeable. And when I’m paying premiums these days I’m seriously wondering exactly what’s been made secure, certain, or safe.

And I also totally realize it was only a couple of weeks ago that I last went on and on about insurance. But that was before I got jumped on the Internet. And I didn’t even call the other guy a bruin.

I’m proud to be part of an awesome E-mail network comprised of leading-edge dentists throughout the country and I love participating. Of the truly engaged component of our Molar Jockey Internet crew, about 80% would probably fist pump Rush (some are on a first name basis) if he were only a little more conservative and slightly more self-expressed. Sometimes it gets a little weird.

After spending way too much quality time on the network I actually start getting kind of paranoid. Suddenly, I’m looking for Socialists everywhere. On TV, in my gym bag, even behind the crummy fence lining TC’s “The Piazza (coming soon.)”

Seems like government doing anything these days is Socialism. And I guess if you’re one of the 47 million with no health insurance or one of 25 million with not enough insurance maybe you’re looking for some “security” or “safety” wherever you can find it. Think you’ll find relief from caring, sympathetic insurance companies? In the health insurance industry, relief is spelled P-R-O-F-I-T.

Between 2000 and 2007, the top ten health insurance companies increased profits by 428%, mostly because they could. Premiums for employer-provided health insurance (that’s me) have doubled since 2000. Even in dentistry, the annual maximum benefit that was $1000 in 1971 remains $1000 today in spite of inflation that makes everything 7-8 times more expensive now than almost 40 years ago.

So I dunno; some key reasons I’m a healthcare provider today and an employer who provides full health insurance for my co-workers go to my public school education K-12 and later at Cal State LA. And without my “socialized” education I could easily be one of some 72 million folks who are one banana peel away from losing everything. As it is, I’m just another small businessman ensured of getting hosed by insurance.

Maybe I’m crazy but the public sector was there for me when I wanted an education. The private sector dropped my worker’s comp coverage after 15 years because a dental assistant hit her elbow on a counter top while cleaning up a treatment room.

Funny thing is, not having dental insurance actually keeps folks away from the dentist when the tab for x-rays and exam are the investment equivalent of a microwave oven. And the preventive value of a visit to the dentist can be tens of thousands of dollars in terms of quality of life and even years of life.

So part of dealing with healthcare is being responsible and doing what you know you oughta do to take care of yourself. We’ve worked to encourage folks by offering complimentary x-rays and exam (or if there is dental insurance coverage, a rebate of similar value for future care.) Now if we could just get a similar commitment from a few health insurance companies. Or maybe some decent competition and competitive prices.

But see ya; gotta run. I’m off to the public 210 and the public driving range; might even listen to some public radio coming from public Pasadena City College on the way. Just hope I’m not getting a lesson from some freakin’ socialist golf pro…

Please accept my apologies for being such a dang grump a couple of weeks ago; my bad. Seemed like even “virtual” Coach Pete couldn’t interview me out of a bad attitude. And I even called La Polla Loca an “old broad” (means she must be less than ten years younger than me.)

So if you really do have any paid-for dental benefits available between now and the end of 2009, do take advantage of them. Why lose funds that would have helped provide better oral health, not to mention additional smiles and quality time to smell some more roses?

And please do use dental floss. Users really do live an average seven years longer and that data includes the Derby State of Kentucky (the same place that gave us “tooth” whitening and drive-thru denture franchises.)

A few things happened during the last two weeks that got me to thinking an apology was definitely in order. The experiences produced some endorphins that are nowhere to be found during spin class where my going 90mph (an estimate) on a stationary bike in a roomful of mirrors is way less euphoric than the air conditioning.

I was daily reminded about what was so special about my career choice. Wasn’t all the new gadgetry or the cool title or even working indoors with A/C listening to music or even a schedule my Dad would have considered part-time. Wasn’t even the Trojan shrine…it was the people.

I basically get to work with family I can choose and I get to make new friends every day. And all I have to do is be interested. Who wouldn’t?

It’s always fun meeting new patients and catching up with old friends because the conversation is never the same twice. Considering the vast expanse of what I don’t know I don’t know, my just being with people is a continuing, continuing education available to me 8 hours/day Monday through Thursday. Plus research shows you retain stuff better when you’re having fun so why not have fun?

Today I opened up a letter from one of our former in-service training students from PCC. Abe has sent us updates during the last three years and this time proudly announced his passing the Boards, paving the way for his chosen career as a Physician’s Assistant. I don’t think we scared him out of dentistry (maybe Singing Dental Assistant Kolleen…)

Well Abe is just the kind of person who will make a difference for folks in healthcare; he’ll save some lives and add quality to countless others…because he cares. And I’m beyond being flattered that he shared his great news (with test scores and resumé included.) One reason I start so many sentences with “so” goes back to all the questions Abe used to ask, most of them starting with “So…?”

Also received an e-mail from the daughter of one of my classmates. Inger shared she hadn’t been to the dentist since the passing of her Dad, an awesome dentist and an even more awesome guy who saved some lives by making dentures that transformed weakened, starving senior citizens into Jack LaLanne look-alikes. Inger wondered if we would accept her as a new patient. Made my month.

Next week I’ll be landing at O’Hare for the annual thumping of the Irish and I’ll have a ride into Chicago…courtesy of a great patient and friend who actually has more Trojan gear than me.

So if I come off as a grump in the future feel free to drop-kick me some feedback. “It’s the people stupid!” would be more than appropriate.

So I know it hasn’t been that long since the least Coach Pete Carroll virtual interview. Readers, Editor John, and even Judy Wong might object but guess what? I don’t care (especially the Judy Wong part.) We lost to the Huskies!!!

And this week I’m just not in the mood to babysit folks who oughta know enough to drag their butts into a dental office maybe twice a year and stay healthy. Lord knows, I’ve got better things to do than listen to “…are we human or are we dancer…la-la-la, la-la-la” everyday after work but if riding a stationary bike in a roomful of mirrors and listening to lousy music keeps me healthy, so be it.

When stats show that you live seven years longer when you floss your teeth whaddya want from me? And if you know you’re gonna waste hard-earned money by not using dental insurance benefits or flex plans by the end of the year, maybe throwing a grand away here and there to the rich and infamous is just your thing. Me, I’d root for the Bruins even if they were playin’ a co-ed swimsuit all-star team…if the bikinis were representing the insurance industry.

And dang it, now I’m sounding just like some cranky old geezer who just had his veggies overcooked, huh? But much like my senior citizen buddy Coach Pete Carroll, I’m taking full responsibility. Yes it’s my fault and my fault only. Nobody made me turn on the TV, no one kept me from sending my Carroll-autographed helmet right through the middle of the 48-inch 3-hour nightmare, and I wasn’t under house arrest. Watching USC lose while impersonating the Raiders was totally my choice. And that’s why I invited Coach Pete over to El Pollo Loco for a little powwow over how he screwed up so bad and gave me such a lousy attitude (I might add that if La Polla Loca shows up offering a senior discount, I might have to drop-kick the old broad.)

As usual, the opinions expressed here do not reflect those of the NCAA, the BCS, the Pac-10, TCDC, or even the City Council and the Gang of One.

“Coach Pete, as usual it’s great having you here in Temple City, the city of vacant store fronts, large cement slabs and larger dirt lots; hope you took Baldwin.”

“Doc V, of course it’s totally awesome bein’ here and your astute mentoring is totally special but what’s up with your attitude; it’s really jacked-up?”

“Coach, we lost to the freakin’ Huskies. I haven’t slept for a week, Thursday I snapped at Singing Dental Assistant Kolleen just because she was humming a Bolton tune, and yesterday, I couldn’t even stay focused long enough to eat a steamed artichoke. How could we lose to the Huskies; they lost all their games last year (I wipe away a tear)?”

“Young Jack, we declare high goals like being great forever, but there are no guarantees. Each setback we experience is an opportunity to look within and become even more powerful if we leave that setback in the past. To err is human; to create new possibilities is transformational. And it’s totally awesome and it’ll be a total blast when beat the living hell out of those dudes next year in the Coliseum!!!”

“Dang it Coach, you had me scared there for a minute or two when you were talkin just like a fortune cookie. All that Zen garbage might play really well on the Westside but over here in the real world, my Armenian dry cleaner is disrespecting me just because you lost to Sarkesian.”

“J-Dawg, just remember you’re still the foremost elite athlete/dentist/scribe in the San Gabriel Valley…and also remember revenge is totally awesome; it adds texture, flavor, and even romance to athletic dominance. IT’S A BLAST!!!”

“Coach, that makes sense. I feel better now; I could eat an artichoke. Did I tell ya I was Half-Sicilian? So is that really white hair or do I see some dark roots?”

“Bite me Molar Jockey!”

Okay, so I’m not referring to the time it takes to read Molar Jockey confessions but you could do worse. You could have spent four minutes with me watching the traditional Annual USC Trojan Football Gift to the less fortunate. And this time, the happy celebrating recipients were the UW Huskies, losers of all their games last year (I know it’s better to give than receive but the Trojans even gifted the Bruins a few years ago. You gotta draw the line somewhere.)

So Saturday, even the most casual observer would have called my behavior into question, let alone my licensed use of oral power tools. And what can you say about a health care professional a few years over 40 bouncing around in his padded living room for three hours cussing out the television and even the crummy network that obviously never got what the “vision” in television stood for?

You’d have thought that my life was riding on the Saturday afternoon activity of a bunch of kids young enough to practically be my grandchildren if I wasn’t such a late-bloomer. It’s bad enough that I can sit here and actually confess my quality of life took a ridiculous hit.

But spending four minutes with me watching Trojan football could make you a better person, especially if you happen to be an over-achieving clinical psychologist. And spending four minutes in the dental chair could save your life.

One American an hour dies of oral cancer. Finding a precancerous oral lesion is part of a 4-minute oral cancer exam.

It’s scary enough that oral cancer is the only form of the disease that has increased in its incidence over the last 50 years. The disease has a higher mortality rate than breast cancer, colorectal cancer, and prostate cancer. While early detection brings an excellent prognosis and 5-year percentage survival rates in the 90s, the over all 5-year rate is less than 50%. And 27% of oral cancer patients actually have no history of smoking or using spit tobacco.

So the key is early detection. The disease is largely preventable. The exam takes about four minutes; it’s easy, doesn’t hurt, and is totally non-invasive. Here’s another tragic statistic: only about 50% of Americans see a dentist on a regular basis.

One technological advance that has saved numerous lives is the Oral CDx brush biopsy. We’ve used ’em since Day One. And I know I benefitted from the awesome opportunity of meeting anti-tobacco advocate and Baseball Hall of Fame announcer Joe Garagiola and later screening major and minor leaguers at Spring Training in Arizona. When you do something a few hundred times in two days even slow studies like me eventually get it.

A brush biopsy is pretty much the equivalent of an oral Pap smear. A soft brush is gently used to retrieve a sample of cells. Imaging technology can then find a few atypical cells out of hundreds of thousands. The sample is taken anywhere an unexpected soft tissue color inconsistency is observed. And size is not a factor; the smaller the lesion the more likely a favorable prognosis.

We’ve screened close to one hundred lesions and had about ten returned with atypical cells noted. All were pre-cancerous and were later removed by an oral surgeon almost the way you’d remove the world’s smallest wart.

Please share this column with family and friends and urge a dental visit and an oral cancer exam.

Four minutes of all the drama that goes with me watching Trojan football might seem like life and death but four minutes spent having an oral cancer exam could be the real deal.

For more info regarding early oral cancer detection please visit www.sopreventable.com.

So I guess I’m supposed to write about stuff like oral health, health insurance, and the impending national healthcare transformation but what about my health? What about me? What about my mental health?

Without Trojan football, I’d probably kick the cat and that’s no good because I don’t have one. And without Salute to Troy, I probably couldn’t get through August and everyone else’s vacations…or even last weekend.

And you try writing this column every week for going on twelve years and see how you like it. I have this ritual where I write the thing the Friday before the Wednesday deadline, the actual column coming out on the following Monday. Like I said, you try figuring out the method to that madness.

This Friday was totally out of the question because it was bookkeeper visitation day. No way to be even slightly creative when someone is interrupting you every five minutes reminding you how much it costs to be a dentist (“Was this bill for marketing or continuing education or equipment? Is this for Worker’s Comp; thought you paid that one with the really big one you send into Anthem for everyone’s health insurance? Is this a new consultant or is it the old one with a new company name?“)

Back in the Day, when ole Mel Gibson used to ride a horse and paint his face all blue just like some re-caffeinated Seahawks fan a few years before he bought Malibu, didn’t he used to scream something all the time? Wasn’t it something like, “FREEDOOOMMM!!!“? Bet he meant freedom from insurance.

Never thought I’d say this but Mel, I understand.

Oh, Friday also means a chance to go across the street to the bank and squeeze in one final deposit for the week. Imagine my elation on seeing six insurance envelopes in the mail. Imagine my dismay when the contents of the six messages from the folks in the tall buildings Downtown revealed payment delays, a missing detail, or the lack of coverage for a given procedure. Not a single check.

And Friday, at least three different people told me they don’t go to the dentist because they don’t have insurance. Hmmm, I was wondering if that was sort of like living forever because you don’t have any life insurance.

When I finally made it to Friday night CNN, I saw a bunch of knuckleheads calling the President a Nazi because he wanted to mess with health insurance. Thought maybe they had him confused with the guy who wire-tapped citizens, tortured folks, and invaded a sovereign nation posing no threat to the U.S. But let’s leave the past in the past.

Turns out, the leading cause of bankruptcy in the U.S. is a health-related catastrophic event. Turns out, half those bankruptcy folks have health insurance; just not enough.

Friday night, I tossed and turned, somewhat stressed over my concerns for another fat monthly check due to Anthem Blue Cross, team members ill or on vacation, and the uncertainty of unchartered economic waters.

But on Saturday, I took a mega-dose of life’s best medicine. And what else would you call exercise, laughter, and the company of friends and family? Did I leave out the Salute to Troy, another year of USC Trojan football domination, and a whole fall season of Saturdays that take you back to being a kid again?

And a few days in the sun…with absolutely no thoughts of freakin’ insurance.