On a dark and stormy night, the red phone rings at the White House. After three rings it's transferred to the Western White House. The President picks it up to hear:
"There's a national crisis, one brewing your whole term in office. The consequences of your decision will literally impact life and death. George, we've known each other a long time. You know I wouldn't ask if it weren't critical, but what can you do to boost WellPoint's profits? Our stock tanked after hours yesterday. The Board's all in a row over fewer people being able to afford our product. They came to the house an hour ago with pitchforks, torches, oil and feathers. They said if I didn't call you on the red phone, they'd take matters into their own hands. I looked up my health insurance and it said it didn't cover injuries sustained in mob activities. Help me, Georgie!" screamed the voice at the other end of the phone.
"Get a hold of yourself man! Calm down Uncle Bucky. Write down this number, 555-1234. John McCain will know what to do to get your profits back on track. I'm only responsible for the good years WellPoint's had."
The frightened voice on the other end replied, "You're sure McCain can get WellPoint back in Wall Street's good graces?"
"Yes Uncle Bucky, John believes in private health care, much like I do. We're already paying you guys through the nose for Medicare HMO coverage. More retirees coming, more profits. Think about it."
"Thanks George. What do I do if the Board mob comes back?"
"Have them call Al Hubbard. He put together my signature health care strategies. The WellPoint Board mob should remember him. He used to be one of them."
"I'll call John and Al right away. You saved my life, George."
"That's what I'm here for Uncle Bucky," beamed President Bush. After hanging up, George W. failed to note the irony of over 47 million uninsured Americans after his 7 years in office. They rely on an ever decaying safety net for their life support. It's harder and harder to "just go to an emergency room" for care. Ring, ring ring. "Mr. President, it's Humana on the line."
"There's a national crisis, one brewing your whole term in office. The consequences of your decision will literally impact life and death. George, we've known each other a long time. You know I wouldn't ask if it weren't critical, but what can you do to boost WellPoint's profits? Our stock tanked after hours yesterday. The Board's all in a row over fewer people being able to afford our product. They came to the house an hour ago with pitchforks, torches, oil and feathers. They said if I didn't call you on the red phone, they'd take matters into their own hands. I looked up my health insurance and it said it didn't cover injuries sustained in mob activities. Help me, Georgie!" screamed the voice at the other end of the phone.
"Get a hold of yourself man! Calm down Uncle Bucky. Write down this number, 555-1234. John McCain will know what to do to get your profits back on track. I'm only responsible for the good years WellPoint's had."
The frightened voice on the other end replied, "You're sure McCain can get WellPoint back in Wall Street's good graces?"
"Yes Uncle Bucky, John believes in private health care, much like I do. We're already paying you guys through the nose for Medicare HMO coverage. More retirees coming, more profits. Think about it."
"Thanks George. What do I do if the Board mob comes back?"
"Have them call Al Hubbard. He put together my signature health care strategies. The WellPoint Board mob should remember him. He used to be one of them."
"I'll call John and Al right away. You saved my life, George."
"That's what I'm here for Uncle Bucky," beamed President Bush. After hanging up, George W. failed to note the irony of over 47 million uninsured Americans after his 7 years in office. They rely on an ever decaying safety net for their life support. It's harder and harder to "just go to an emergency room" for care. Ring, ring ring. "Mr. President, it's Humana on the line."
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