Johnny we hardly knew ya!

There's a pub not far from where I live called the 21st Amendment, afer the amendment that provided for the repeal of prohibition. It's on Bowdoin Street, just across the way from a side entrance to the Masschusetts State House, and I haven't been there in years. Back in the day when I dropped in once in a while, it was called the Golden Dome, named after the golden dome that crowns (if that's the right word, given No Kings) our lovely, Bullfinch-designed state house. 

The Dome was a nothing fancy pub, but it was a fun and convivial place. 

When I was an occasional patron, the Dome was frequented by state workers and state and local pols. Not that I'd recognized most state pols, but sometimes I'd spot a familiar face in there. One time, I saw Ray Flynn. Ray had been a state rep, but at the point I saw him there, he was a member of the Boston City Counil, and was running for mayor. Ray was in his cups, and walking from table to table schmoozing voters up. When he got to us, my BF (later husband) said to Ray that I had told him that Ray was an honest pol. Ray's answer: "I am honest. I just drink too much." 

Ah, Ray. 

Anyway, he went on to become the mayor, and held that office until Bill Clinton appointed him Ambassador to the Holy See (Vatican). 

The big kahuna pol who had supposedly frequented the Golden Dome was JFK, whose Boston apartment was a couple of doors down on Bowdoin Street. Or so it was rumored.

Anyway, a few weeks ago, I spotted this sign on the sidewalk on the corner of Bowdoin and Beacon, inviting passers-by to stop in for a libation at JFK's local tavern.

This raised a couple of questions in my mind.

First off, just how much time did Congressman (and later Senator) John Fitzgerald Kennedy spend in Boston? His parents were native Bostonians - his maternal grandfather had been the mayor - but JFK was born in Brookline, just oustide of Boston. The family moved to NY when he was still a child. He went to prep school in Connecticut. And Harvard is in Cambridge. The Kennedy family spent their summers in Hyannis, so Massachusetts, but not exactly Boston. 

JFK was famously in the South Pacific during WWII. 

JFK was someting of a war hero, and in the absence of his golden boy older brother, who was killed during the war, he was designated by the family to get on the path to the presidency. First step: Congress.

In order to run for Congress, JFK had to establish a residency here. Thus he rented a pied a terre on Beacon Hill. 

Once elected to the House, and later the Senate, his center of gravity was Washington, DC. Not Boston. 

So did he ever really spend any more time than necessary here?

Oh, I don't doubt he popped in occasionally to his local for a pop, especially as a couple of his inner circle were boyos, not fellow Harvardites. And his grandfather had been a tavern owner. (As was mine, btw.) But was it truly his watering hole?

Rather than hanging out at an Irish-y local pub, I could see young JFK - rich, handsome, well-educated, well-traveled, sophisticated - at the Ritz or at Locke-Ober. Not at whatever the Golden Dome 21st Amendment was called back in the way back. 

But, hey, JFK may have been anticipating the advice Robert Frost gave him on the occasion of his inauguration: Be more Irish than Harvard. Which translates into local pub, not Locke-Ober.

Still, there's a question of whether that sign is false advertising or creative marketing. Little of both, I suspect. And just plain fun.

But I'm also wondering just how much the JFK name still resonates with young folks - the prime constituency for the 21st Amendment - or with tourists, even. He has, after all, been dead for a good long time. It reminds me of the "George Washington slept here" signs of my youth - there was actually one on a house near where I grew up that had been a tavern  - that were sort of interesting, but didn't really drawn you in. More of a good to know, shrug sort of thing. 

Or are people (young folks, tourists) still drawn to JFK. 

I suppose tourists may be. After all, Cheers, which takes place in Boston, has been off the air for 30+ years, and there's still a line out front most of the time. And I guess JFK would and should be more of a draw than Sam, Norm, or Carla. 

Anyway, when I spotted the sign there, I was curious. And I did find it amusing. A few weeks after I first saw it, the sign was down. 

Maybe it didn't work. Maybe it just kept blowing down.

Did JFK really hang out at the 21st Amendment? 

I don't really see it, but Johnny we hardly knew ya!

The good news is that the LPGA is attracting more fans...

The good news for fans of women's sports is that players and teams are growing in popularity. And it's not just women and little girls who are following female athletes. An AP poll last spring showed that about half of the fans of women sports are men. (It also showed that about 30 percent of US adults follow women's sports to some extent. While this is about half the number who pay attention to men's sports, it still demonstratess remarkable growth in interest.)

I grew up an avid follower of baseball, and a regular follower of hockey, football, and basketball. Boston teams. All male. 

There were some women athletes: Tenley Albright and Peggy Fleming skated. Althea Gibson and Billie Jean King played tennis. Pat Bradley was a Massachusetts "girl" about my age who became an LPGA star.

There were no women's professional teams that I was aware of. 

Title IX didn't exist, and there were far fewer opportunities for girls to participate in sports. (I was on the Latin team, however.)

All this may explain why I only sporadically pay any attention to women's team sports. And pay about the same degree of attention to women's individual sports. I don't avidly follow most men's individual sports, either.

Anyway, the LPGA has become a pretty big deal over the last decade or so, and now a number of their star players - or their names, anyway - have been caught up in catfishing incidents in which imposters impersonating them on social media con fans out of big bucks. 

Fans have followed legit, verified accounts of female golfers, and some that looked legit enough, and have been approached by the "seemingly" legit accounts with preposterous messages.

Take Rodney, a 62 year old, self-acclaimed major LPGA fan from Indiana. Rodney isn't real. The Athletic (NY Times sports wing) invented him and gave him an Insta account to test whether there indeed is an "ever-increasing social media scam pervading the LPGA."

Within 20 minutes of setting up "his" account, poor, dear, LPGA-enamored Rodney - who hadn't yet posted a thing - 

...received a message from what at first glance appeared to be the world’s No. 2-ranked female golfer, Nelly Korda.

“Hi, handsomeface, i know this is like a dream to you. Thank you for being a fan,” read a direct message from @nellykordaofficialfanspage2. (Source: NY Times)

Needless to say, the real Nelly Korda wasn't out there calling Rodney "handsomeface." Nor did she send him that video he received in which she called Rodney by name. (This was via an altered AI video.) Fortunately there's no real Rodney to get suckered into believing that an attractive, rich, fit, blonde golf star thought he was handsome.

Other marks were not so fortunate. What happened to them was all too real. 

A Pennsylvania guy - like the fictional Rodney, in his 60s - headed to a tournament, thinking he was going to meet golfer Rose Zhang. He was expecting a VIP package from Zhang, and a hotel room for him that had been booked by her. 

He said they had been communicating on social media for over a year, during which he had sent her around $70,000. Zhang’s agent confronted the man, breaking the news that he was not communicating with Zhang.

One fellow, again a 60-something, was duped out of $50K by someone pretending to be In Gee Chun, a golfer from Sout Korea. One Asian guy showed up at a tourney in the US "believing he was married to one of the players." (Can you get married over social media???) A 72-year-old man from South Carolina didn't think he was married, but did get tricked into believing that he and Nelly Korda were engaged. And tricked out of this retirement fund. As he was on the verge of selling his house, his children finally were able to convince him he'd been scammed. 

The gist of the con goes like this: Social media user is a fan of a specific golfer; scam account impersonating that athlete reaches out and quickly moves the conversation to another platform like Telegram or WhatsApp to evade social media moderation tools; scammer offers a desirable object or experience — a private dinner, VIP access to a tournament, an investment opportunity — for a fee; untraceable payments are made via cryptocurrency or gift cards. Then, once the spigot of cash is turned off, the scammer disappears.

Women's golf is by no means the only group of celebs swept up in this con, but it's apparently one of the fastest growing targeted group. Golfers and even golf influencers (whoever/whatever they are) have taken to posting warnings on their social media sites. Caveat instagrammer! And caveat golfers, while we're at it. Some of those who've been scammed put the blame on the golfers and even show up at tournaments to confront them. One golfer had to take out a restraining order against one scammed fan. Others have had to rev up their security and avoid some functions that in the past they would have happily participated in. Scary, all that. 

The FBI is apparently on the LPGA case, but they're understandably busy flying FBI Director Kash Patel around the country on a private jet to attend his girlfriend's country music concerts, and trying to drum up dirt on Jim Comey. Plus most of the LPGA scammers are international.

It's terrible that scammers are preying on lonely, often elderly people, who are so desperate for connection that they get irrationally sucked in. Talk about looking for love in all the wrong places.

The good news that LPGA golfers, and other women athletes, are attracting more fans. Too bad they're also attracting a bunch of scammers. 

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Image Source: BBC Earth

Aye aye, admiral. (Ay-ay-ay-ay!)

Admiral Robert Burke was all set for a nice little old retirement for himself. Alas, Burke - once the second-in-command of the US Navy - got greedy. In September, he was sentenced to six years in prison (prosecutors had asked for a ten year sentence) - and had fines levied on him - for his spring conviction on corruption charges. His corruption? He awarded a hefty Naval contract in exchange for a plush job once he retired.

The company Burke cosied up to, Next Jump, is a leadership training company that "for 20+ years...has been on a mission to democratize elite performance coaching – helping leaders and teams make better decisions, day in and day out." Next Jump's leaders - Burke's co-defendants - Meghan Messenger and Charlie Kim were tried separately in a trial that ended up ending in a hung jury mistrial. (Not clear whether they'll retried.)

Kim and Messenger agreed to pay Burke a $500,000 salary with stock options projected to be worth millions of dollars, according to prosecutors. In exchange, they said, Burke ordered his staff to give a contract to Next Jump and promoted the company’s product to other senior Navy commanders. (Source: APNews)

A few years earlier, Next Jump had been awarded a multimillion-dollar contract for a workforce training program. The pilot failed and the Navy called it quits with Next Jump. Fast forward a bit, and Burke had a tete-a-tete with Kim and Messenger to talk about another contract. Next Jump's proposal was that they'd deliver a program pretty much the same as the failed one. Nonetheless, Burke forced his underlings to give them the contract. Hmmmm.

“The truth is, Burke knew this training was a waste of time and money, and not suitable for his command, let alone the entire Navy,” prosecutors wrote.

Burke's next jump was retiring and accepting a job offer with Next Jump.

Burke’s attorneys said a military commander with his experience could have landed a better-paying job in the private sector.

“He was not motivated by greed, but by a belief in the mission and product of the company,” they wrote

I have no doubt in my mind that Burke, who's in his early sixties, could have found any number of high-paying positions, or raked in the dough as a consultant and/or lobbiest. Companies LOVE hiring ex-military. (Ask me about working with a retired admiral at one of the goofier tech companies I served my time with.) Not that Burke couldn't have had a decently comfy retirement on his Navy pension - which as far as I can figure, would have been about $200K, plus all sorts of bennies like PX shopping and healthcare; all of which he stands to lose - but, hey, why not grab for the brass ring in the private sector.

But "belief in the mission"? Especiallly after his first experience with Next Jump was mission non-accomplished? I call BS.

Especially given that his attorneyes, when asking the judge not to send Burke to the brig, argued that:

“This is not a case of a career criminal...It is the case of a single, tragic, and aberrant chapter at the very end of a life defined by honor, courage, and commitment.”

So which was it? Belief in the mission or an aberrant chapter? 

Needless to say, Burke is appealing his sentence. 

Interestingly, Burke's legal team included Tim Parlatore, former personal attorney to Donald J. Trump. He's an advisor to and attorney for one Pete Hegseth of the US Department of Defense War. And a former partner in a law firm that defended John Gotti. 

I realize that everyone deserves a defense, but did Parlatore ever defend anyone decent????

Anyway, Parlatore's a slick one, and he may well get Burke off on appeal.

But what a black eye for Burke and the Navy. You'd think that such a high-ranking admiral wouldn't be as dumb as Cap'n Crunch. Ay-ay-ay-ay.

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Image Source: Florida Eye

The FIFA Piece of Crap Prize

I don't know much of anything (i.e., nothing) about Maria Corina Machado, other than that she's the leader of Venezuela's democracy movement. And that she beat out Dear Leader for the Nobel Prize. 

What a travesty. 

After all, Dear Leader helped bring about the ceasefire in Gaza that lasted a day or two before Israel got right back into flattening Gaza with weaponry provided by the US. 

And he did broker some sort of ceasefire of the 12-day war between Iran and Israel, the included a bombing foray into Iran by the US. Can you be the president of peace when you've bombed a country? Not quite as if Harry Truman had gotten the Nobel Peace Prize after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but still...

Pakistan went full suckup grateful nation and nominated Dear Leader for the Peace Prize after the US played a mediator role in ending a brief war between Pakistan and India. But India said he had nothing to do with it. Gee, why would Pakistan lie  just to get into Trump's good graces?

And there were all those other wars, or non-wars, or skirmishes that Dear Leader laid claim to ending, and which garnered him a couple more nominations.  

I'll give Trump some minor credit for using his diplomatic and economy-threatening skills to move things along in a number of these situations.

But then he goes and starts obliterating boats (and the humans in the boats) that may or may not have been involved in drug trafficking, but which is kinda/sorta against international law. 

And he renamed the US Department of Defense to the Department of War.

Plus he's been threatening war with Nigeria. (Is it to save Nigerian Christians, or grab the country's oil?)

Not to mention he's been sending in troops to cities and states where they a) aren't wanted and b) aren't needed, in Trump's peacekeeping hopes that these deployments will turn into violent fiascos so he can declare an insurrection and start killing folks in blue cities. (I'm already practicing my 'duck and cover.') 

Anyway, now that I think of it, Trump not getting the Peace Prize is a travesty? NOT.

Of course, I can't say that it's not at least mildly entertaining - if you can factor out the nausea-inducement - to watch Trump non-stop grovel for the recognition and pathetically whine about not winning it. Trump is actually somewhat fascinating in that, along with his lack of empathy, lack of curiosity, lack of integrity, lack of decency, lack of honesty, lack of compassion, etc., he is apparently completely lacking in shame. What an embarrassment to our country. (I was going to say 'what an embarrassment to his family,' but as long as they're raking in the grift $, I'm sure they don't care at all.)

After he didn't win the Nobel Peace Prize, after he threw his snits, Trump did get a boost when the South Koreans gave him a crown. If you can't be the Nobel Peace Prize winner, at least you can be a make-pretend king! 

And then FIFA, the famously corrupt international soccer association, decided to trump the South Korean gift of a crown, and create a consolation peace prize.

In November: 

Fifa president Gianni Infantino announced the creation of the Fifa peace prize, to be awarded each year to “individuals who help unite people in peace through unwavering commitment and special actions”. The inaugural award will be presented on 5 December during the World Cup draw at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington DC, a high-profile event that Trump is expected to attend. (Source: The Guardian)

Expected to attend? Did anyone think for a New York minute that Trump was going to miss an opportunity to be the center of attention, have his arse royally kissed, and get to blather on about how the FIFA - Guardian says fifa, I say FIFA - prize is actually better than the Nobel.

“In an increasingly unsettled and divided world, it’s fundamental to recognise the outstanding contribution of those who work hard to end conflicts and bring people together in a spirit of peace,” Infantino said. “Football stands for peace, and on behalf of the entire global football community, this prize will recognise the enormous efforts of those individuals who unite people, bringing hope for future generations.”

FIFA corruption aside, sports in general, and football (a.k.a., soccer) in particular do unite people. Billions of people will watch the World Cup matches next year. I don't have much interest in it, but even I will likely turn it on at some point, and I'll know for sure who's in the finals. Sure, your enemy becomes the opposing team, but - occasional riots and hooliganism aside - it's not a murderous emnity. And you're friends with anyone and everyeone rooting for your guys. For a peaceful 90 minutes (plus stoppage time), you're with those who are wearing the same colors and waving the same flag, even though IRL (which starts the moment the trophy is awarded) you might despise them.

But in what world is Donald J. Trump someone who "unite(s) people, bringing hope for future generations"? 

He makes no bones about not giving two shits - make that actively hating - those who didn't vote for him. What hope exactly is be bringing to anyone? Please name names.

In any case, 2026 will be a big ego-booster of a year for Dear Leader. Even if he fails yet again to win the Nobel Peace Prize, he'll be presiding over both the US's 250th birthday and elbowing his way into the picture whenever he can at World Cup events. 

Can't wait. (Have I used up my allotment of NOTs?)

Meanwhile, congratulations to Trump on winning the FIFA Peace Prize. Make that the FIFA Piece of Crap Prize.

Memo to the Toy Hall of Fame: Let It Snow!

Each year, I like to take a look at the toys nominated for entry into the National Toy Hall of Fame, which is housed in the Strong National Museum of Play in Rochester, NY. (I've been there, a brief but fun visit. What's not to like about a museum dedicated to toys and playing?)

There are a lot of wonderful toys and games that have been inducted in the Toy HoF. The Hula Hoop. The Baby Doll. Jacks. Teddy Bears. PlayDoh. Doll Houses. Balls. 

All personal faves.

But my favorite favorites are the most basic of items, toys like Alphabet Blocks, Crayons, Chalk, Swings, and Playing Cards - things that aren't over complicated, tricked out, expensive, yet provide for hours of fun. (Or at least they did when I was a kiddo.) I was a little bummed out that one of last year's finalists - Balloons - didn't make the cut.

But there are even more basics, the most basicests of basics, that don't cost a thing. How wonderful that the Hall of Fame includes things that aren't produced by Disney or Mattel, that aren't made in miserable overseas factories, that don't end up in waste dumps. Sticks. Cardboard Boxes. Blankets. Sand.

Sticks can, of course, be weapons, which is likely their most common usage. But they can also be canes or shepherds' crooks. Teachers' pointers. Outlines/framing for a pretend house. Bats. Etc.

Cardboard Boxes. The fun never ends! One of the treats of my childhood was when someone in the neighborhood got a large appliance delivered - a fridge, a washing machine - and us kids got the box. Instant club house or fort, good until it rained. And - my favorite use case - a tumbler: stuff a bunch of kids in it and push it down the steep bank of the frontyards of the street I spent my first seven years on. With luck, you'd get a couple of somersaults in before the kid-filled box hit the edge of the cement retaining wall and landed on the sidewalk with a satisfying clunk. Small boxes were just fine, too. You could make trains, houses, villages full of houses, doll beds. Or just push a baby around in it. You could use a piece of cardboard as a makeshift sled for snow, or to slide down grass banks if you didn't have a big, intact box.

Blankets were hiding places, tents, things to toss other kids in. They were costumes. Cover your head: ghost or monster. Over your shoulders: cape. Draped around your body: glamorous ball gown.

Sand also made an excellent toy. Castles. Forts. Food (especially when augmented with acorns, pignuts, and red berries). Mud pies. Just digging in at the beach and watching the hole miraculously fill with water. Digging for worms. (Oogie.) Digging to China. (A complete waste of time. You knew you were never going to get there.)

Ah, the basicests! Available, versatile, affordable. No rules. No tricky pieces. No assembly needed. And good for all sorts of imaginative play. 

Given my inclination towards basic toys, I was delighted to see that one of this year's Toy Hall of Fame finalists was SNOW. 

Unfortunately, only available in places where it snows - and there's a diminishing number of those, I'm afraid, but Snow is such a terrific plaything. 

You can use it to build forts, igloos, caves. You can make snowballs. You can slide on it. (And lest you think that you need a pricey Flexible Flyer, a toboggan, a flying saucer, to enjoy sledding, you can slide using a piece of cardboard. (C.f., Cardboard Box.) 

Snow is good for making snow angels.

And snowmen.

I was especially fortunate to spend my early years in a flat in my grandmother's coal-heated three decker. So we had real bonafide pieces of coal to use for eyes, for the smile, for the buttons. Even in the dead of winter, you could always find sticks for arms. And even my frugal mother would spot us a carrot to use for a nose, and some worn to the nubbin knit cap, a rag to use for a scarf. When we moved to the next block and no longer used coal, you could always find stones. (This was New England. Rocky, stoney ground in abundance.)

Snow was also, of course, the ultimate pro-play, pro-toy thing in that we were pretty much guaranteed a couple of Snow Days per winter. (Snow days required at least a foot of snow, but there were plenty of foot-of-snow storms in the Worcester of my childhood. Bummer if they happened on a weekend. Hiss, boo!) I know I've said this many times in the past, but one of the most beautiful sounds in the world was the WNEB radio announcer saying "No school all schools, Worcester public" - and here we would hold our breaths waiting for the words we longed to hear - "and parochial."

Tough luck for my mother. Good luck for us! A day off! And all that glorious snow to play in!

As I write this post, I don't yet know what's been elected to the Toy Hall of Fame for 2025. 

Let it be SNOW!

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Image Source: Wikipedia

Dr. Who? Dr. What?

In October, I received a form letter from my primary care physician, announcing that she was leaving her internal medicine practice to become a concierge doctor.

I was not happy to hear this news, as E has been my doctor for well over a decade, and I trust, like, and admire her. E is a good 20-25 years younger than I am, so I had been hoping that she would see me out the door. (Her husband is my dentist, and my hope is that he ain't going anywhere. I've been getting my dental care at his practice for nearly 50 years. E's father was my dentist for decades, and I was delighted when E joined the practice.) 

The form letter from E stated that all of her patient's would be assigned a new doctor by mid-November, and we were not to contact her office. Don't email us, we'll email you.  

When I saw the note, I gulped and did three things: 

• I wrote E a very nice snail mail note telling her that I was grateful for her care over the years, and, while I was disappointed in the news that she was leaving, I wished her well.
• I got in touch with K and M, two friends from different spheres of my life who are also patients of E. All three of us are long-standing members of the E Fan Club. All three of us were upset by the news.
• I wrote an unwanted email to E (or E's practice) saying that, before assignments were made, patients should be asked for their preferences. Mine would have been a woman doctor, one affiliated with Mass General,where I have been a mostly healthy part of the family for nearly 50 years, and one who was relatively convenient to get to. MGH is the hospital where my husband spent the last week of his life. I know my way around there. Brigham & Women's is part of the Partners healthcare system that MGH is a member of. I did not want to get shunted off to The Brigham, even though it is a fine hospital. Whenever I visit someone there, I get lost.

No response to either the note (wasn't expecting one), nor the email (kinda/sorta was).

Pairwise, K, M and I had several convos about the sitch. (As an aside, K is a retired primary care physician, M a retired nurse. They know things.)

On a lovely mid-October day, I was on the train, tootling out to the 'burbs to have lunch with a friend. I was checking my email and saw a notice from Partners. I had my assignment. In suburban Waltham. 

I immediately texted K and M, and spent the rest of my train ride on the phone with one or the other of them.

K had also been exiled to Waltham. M, through a convoluted set of circumstances - and a lot of persistence on her part - had been okayed to see O, a resident in E's practice.

The notification said that the Waltham facility was accessible by public transportation.

Their definition of accessible is not quite the same as mine. 

I plotted a trip, and for me to get from home to the new doctor in Waltham via public transpo would take 1.5 to 2.1 hours each way. It would involve multiple changes train-bus-bus, and, depending on the route, would require a .4 to 2.0 mile walk up a hill. (The detail on the hill climb wasn't included in the route info, but, as it turns out, I used to work in that area and know all about the hill.) 

Not that I would ever be taking public transpo out to the wilds of Waltham - Uber all the way, baby - but, seriously folks, to expect a carless elder who lives a 10 minute walk from E's practice - which is still a practice - to trek out to Waltham seems pretty daffy to me.

When I got home from my lunch, I shot a response off, saying that I thought it was pretty outrageous to assign a carless city-girl elder to the boondocks. I also asked to be assigned to O, the resident physician that M had arranged to see. The curt auto-response was pretty much of the sorry/not sorry variety. It included a number to call if I wanted something different.

So I called and spoke with a very nice young woman who told me that there were no MGH-affiliated PCP's anywhere in the city of Boston taking new patients. She laid out my options, which were mostly in locations farther away than Waltham, but the coup de grâce was that I could get assigned - guaranteed, they're taking new patients - to Amazon One Medical. NO THANKS! Make that NO FUCKING THANKS.

While I was speaking with the very nice young woman, I saw that another message had come in from E's office, this time not an auto-response, but a personal note from E's practice manager. She apologized for the process having upset me, and told me that if I were willing to see a resident - who would only be around for a couple of years - she would assign me to O. 

Yes, seeing a resident 10 minutes from my house was infinitely preferable to schlepping out to Waltham. Over the course of time, I've seen a number of residents and nurse practitioners and physicians assistants. Happy to see any and all. Sure, for continuity of care it's nice to have your very own personal Marcus Welby, but that's not the wave of the present, let alone the future.

Meanwhile, K wasn't able to line up with O, but was assigned to another resident which she, as a physician herself, thinks is just fine.

So all good.

But it's no secret that there's a shortage of primary care doctors, and Mass General Brigham has been hit especially hard. 

So they've now launched:

...an AI app that questions patients, reviews medical records, and produces a list of potential diagnoses.

Called “Care Connect,” the platform was launched on Sept. 9 for the 15,000 MGB patients without a primary care doctor. A chatbot that is available 24/7 interviews the patient, then sets up a telehealth appointment with a physician in as little as half an hour. MGB is among the first health care systems nationally to roll out the app. (Source: The Boston Globe)

Look, medicine is one area where I think AI shows some real promise. I've read that it's proving to be better at identifying breast cancer than mammograms are. And I'm sure that eventually AI will be very good at looking at tests and symptoms and making a diagnosis, which should be especially helpful in rare and complex cases. There's too much stuff to know out there, and doctors really aren't able with keeping up with it all. So bring on AI. (Not to mention that half of us are using AI search to get preliminary diagnoses for ourselves, our friends, and our families. Asking Dr. Google - and making sure that the sources are legit and not some ChatGPT iodiocy spewing bot - helps us figure out what to ask the doctor when we see them.)  

But I'm not fully sold on sticking an AI intermediary (and AI-driven devices) between patient and physician. 

It will, of course, happen sooner rather than later. And there may be plenty of places - refilling a prescription, the common cold - where Dr. AI will perform plenty well enough. But there's something to be said for the doctor in the white coat actually looking you in the eye when they're delivering good, bad, or just sort of meh news.

Maybe MGH needs to start treating its primary care doctors better so they won't be running out the door. It's a demanding job to begin with, and the paperwork, the midnight emails, the Dr. Googling don't make it any easier. But I can certainly see a point where having a personal PCP will only be for those who can afford concierge medicine, while the rest of us "see" a robot, or a doctor in Timbuktu via telehealth, or a rotating carousel of residents and nurses, or whoever it is that's on duty that day in the healthstop or Amazon's fakeroo doctor's offices. 

Me, I'm just happy to be seeing Dr. O for my annual come January.  So what if it's the first, last, and only time I'll see her? Crisis averted, at least for now. No more worrying about Dr. Who and Dr. What. 

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Image Source: SciTech Daily

Thanksgiving 2025

A couple of years ago, I did a post listing the things in life that I'm thankful for. Here's a slightly updated version:

Thankful for:

• Family. (Many are friends, too!!! Yay!)
• Friends. (Some are like family!!! Yay!)
• Dogs. (Their very existence makes living worthwhile.)
• Health. (Iffy ankle aside, I'm kinda/sorta rockin' geezerhood, healthwise. So far, anyway. Update: had a few minor things in the last year, but knock on wood. And the ankle's fine. Shifting from 7 miles a day walking to 5 did seem to eliminate most of my joint pain. Alas, it did result in a 10 pound weight gain.)
• Medical care. (My doctor, dentist, and eye doctor are all in walking distance, and all still in their 40's. All are excellent. Bonus points for being young. My wonderful PCP decided to join a concierge practice, but I was able to transfer to another highly-recommended physician in the same place who I'll be seeing in January. And she sounds just fine. She's also younger than my "old" PCP. And I'd say my dentist and eye guys are now in their early 50's. I almost ask my eye guy when I saw him in September. Still likely young enough to see me out the door.)
  
• Home. (Sure, I'd like a rug under my dining room table, but I love the cool new lamp in the LR. Sometimes Wayfair does have just what you need.
  
  Or just what you want, anyway.) There is a new furniture addition. My sister Kath downsized and I got this gorgeous cherry breakfront. Forget Wayfair. Crate & Barrel, baby!
• My neighborhood. (Beacon Hill. Lucky me. The Boston Public Garden is my front yard.)
• My City. (Oh, oh, Boston, you're my home.)
• NYC. Chicago. (If I had to pick another city.
• My State. (Guess I'm pretty much a homer, but this is it for me.)
• Maine. Vermont. (Maybe. If push comes to shove.)
• My Country.  (Sadly, not always. Still beats many alternatives.) Yes, it still beats many alternatives. For instance, I wouldn't want to be in North Korea or Saudi Arabia. But the way this country is going... Thankful that, for now, we are still able to exercise our first amendment rights, but we know that the rancid malefactor in the White House is just lusting after operationalizing the Insurrection Act. 
• Ireland. (If I had to pick another country.)
• Galway. (If I had to pick a city in another country.)
• Old sweaters. (Some go back 30+ years.)
• New sweaters, too. (Are sweaters my hobby?)
• Comfy shoes. (And Bombas socks.)
• The baseball season being over. (How 'bout those Red Sox?)  Yes, the last couple of years, the Red Sox were god-awful, but they pulled their socks up this year and the season turned out to be fun. And I wasn't happy to see it end. 
• Truck day. Pitchers and catchers. (It'll be February before you know it.)
• Music. (Still crazy after all these years for folk, folk rock, Celtic.)
• Books. (Not the reader I was before I started obsessing on the news. Now 1-2 a month, vs. 1-2 or more a week. Still, where would I be without them?) This year, I'm on pace to have read over 100 books. So, two a week. A return to my norm. A combo of literary fiction, history, biography, mystery, police procedural, political and social issues, beach reads. The only requirement was well-written. If not, I slapped it shut fast. I also rediscovered the Boston Public Library, which I hadn't used regularly in quite a few years. Now if I pick up a book that isn't all that enjoyable, I can slap it shut without fretting about how much I paid for it. Anyway, I'll be doing a highlights post on my year in reading sometime in December. 
• Work. (Especially now that it's 99.99% 100% in the rearview mirror.)
• Volunteering at St. Francis House. (Gotta do something, and SFH is a great place to do that something.)
• Oranges. Cherries. McIntosh apples. Nectarines. Tangerines. Blueberries....(And nuts, too.)
• Pasta. (Especially the good kind from Italy that I buy in the North End.)
• Salad, and all the good things to throw in salads.
• Sesame chicken. Teddie's peanut butter. Scallops. Asparagus. Broccoli. Etc.
• Fried clams. (Other than the light and the baseball, I'm not wild about summer. But just about now I'm missing a summertime fried clam roll.)
• My Le Creuset Dutch oven. (If you only have one pot, this is the one to have.)
• Chocolate. (What's not to like?)
• How in god's name did I leave ice cream off my original list???
• Tea. (Barry's is best.) But I've added peppermint and ginger to my tea repertoire. Both soothing. And who couldn't do with a bit of soothing these days?
• Prosecco. (Alcohol of choice, for those occasions that call for alcohol, which I must say occur nowhere near as often as they used to.)
• Sense of humor. (Where would I be without it?)
• Public transportation and Uber. (Love being car-free.)
• Other stuff...

Not quite sure who(m) or what I'm thankful to exactly, but plenty to be thankful for. 

Happy Thanksgiving, 2025!