Last week I had the pleasure of reading a chapter from my book at Alicia Brandt's hilarious monthly series Women's Night Out. Her show is sort of a cabaret of ordinary female life. Professional women do a show-and-tell on their lives and careers. Guests have included a dermatologist, a sex therapist, a manager from the American Girl Store and an expert in self-defense. Every installment features "Ask A Man" where a man is brought on stage and the mostly female audience can ask him anything they want. The show is funny, sexy, loose and sometimes downright weird. Alicia is an engaging M.C. and The MBar is a cozy and welcoming venue, offering decent snacks and a full bar. It's a nice place to snicker while you get snockered.

Anyway, after I read my lap dance piece (sorry, more shameless plugging but hey -- I've got a book to publicize here, people!) Tracy Newman took the stage with her guitar. Tracy is the Emmy Award-winning co-writer of the "coming out" episode of Ellen. What does a successful television writer/producer do once she has made it? Go back to her first love of course, singing and songwriting, which according to Tracy's website, she has been doing since she was fourteen.

Tracy opened with a song for her little sister Laraine Newman, whom you will no doubt remember from those first, heady seasons of Saturday Night Live. The song is about sisterhood, motherhood, and life after fame. It just grabbed me with its sweetness, love, and 20/20 hindsight on a life once lived in the spotlight. In what I believe may be an LAO first, I am uploading the mp3 here for your listening pleasure.

I've seen two terrific revisions of myths of the American West recently--the Yosemite exhibit at the Autry Museum, and the film Seraphim Falls at the Arclight. I urge you to see the art exhibit before it closes April 22, though sadly the film came and went like the rain this winter.

Granted, this may be less "LA Observed" than "Observed in LA." Still, I'd argue that the obsessive mythmaking about L.A.--about L.A. being the American Dream, the American Nightmare, yada yada--is a kind of a deviant warmer-climate outgrowth of the obsessive mythmaking about forging the American character yada yada in the rest of the American West.

And if you want to comment on these myths, you couldn't pick a more perfect place than Yosemite, where photographers and painters--from Albert Bierstadt to Ansel Adams--depicted the sublime western landscape first as the wide-open wilderness where Americans became Americans, and then as the wide-open wilderness where twee citified modern Americans could recover their true nature.

The Autry has assembled a superb collection of more recent photography and painting, which comments ingeniously on this icon of wilderness--intentionally, in most cases, though any image of Half Dome plugs into a universe of meanings. Here's the least subtle piece, which I admit I love: J. Michael Walker's "The Removal of the Miwok from Yosemite" reprints the classic late-1800s photo of a tourist gleefully kicking her leg out over the vastness atop Glacier point, but adds a Miwok Indian falling through the air below her.

There are photos of parking lots full of cars, and of campgrounds packed with trailers and lawn chairs. Of a Park-Service trash can shaped uncannily like Half Dome, with Half Dome in the distance. Of a woman looking at Yosemite Falls, wearing a souvenir scarf with a picture of Yosemite Falls. Of Half Dome with Ansel Adams's face eerily inscribed in it. A cubist-ish photo collage of Yosemite Valley from David Hockney is wonderful. And my favorite: Mark Klett and Byron Wolfe's spellbinding photo that connects the landscape between a famed 1936 photo by Edward Weston and an 1872 photo by the noted photographer Eadward Muybridge.

All of which comments on how art has shaped the landscape and myths and experiences of Yosemite, and which asks us to ask questions. Think this was an uninhabited or even lightly inhabited wilderness? That Yosemite is an unchanging landscape with timeless meaning? That the contemporary wildernesses of the West, and how we experience them, are not powerfully shaped by myth, art, commerce, the Park Service (thankfully), cars, and a wide range of modern citified desires?

Think again.

Still, what I like just as much about the exhibit is the affection and awe that these artists so obviously maintain for the place. Yosemite may be as much meaning as place--and the meanings are up for grabs--but so what? The meanings of this place may not be timeless, and the myths may be questionable, but it's still gorgeous. And it's an ecological and cultural necessity in a highly urbanized 2007.

I won't say as much about Seraphim Falls, except that the director David Von Ancken has clearly seen a lot of westerns. And that this movie, in which a Confederate officer chases a Union officer through the West after the Civil War, joins a long line of revisionist westerns--Little Big Man, Unforgiven, Lone Star among my own favorites--that confirm that though the western may be proclaimed dead on a regular basis, it remains a powerful genre for commenting on, oh, you know, American race, imperialism, desire, redemption, alienation, violence. And that the film got middling reviews, so I entered the Arclight with middling expectations, but left thinking that, like Unforgiven, this beautiful twist of a western is an exceptionally knowing and topical commentary on the wages of American violence.

“The important thing to know about Scott Ritter,” goes Seymour Hersh’s much-quoted line about the former UN senior weapons inspector in Iraq, “is that he was right.”

That may be true for a bottom-liner like the veteran investigative journalist Hersh, but there’s a lot more to know about Ritter than that: First, he’s a Republican and hardcore American patriot who served eight years as a U.S. Marine intelligence officer before becoming a senior U.N. weapons inspector in Iraq. So when Ritter’s assessment that Iraq was hiding no weapons of mass destruction during our long run-up to war turned out to be on the mark, you tend to think it was more than just a lucky guess.

The other thing that comes across loud and clear about Ritter is how passionate and combative he is about restoring our country’s values as defined by the Constitution. It’s easy to see why the Bush administration and its media lapdogs tried so hard to discredit him during that period and why today, with Ritter now sounding alarms about what he sees as an impending war with Iran, you’re less likely to hear about it on TV than at a neighborhood town hall meeting like the three he conducted last week in Southern California.

I caught Ritter Friday night in Oak Park, when he and longtime media critic and pundit Jeff Cohen each addressed a hundred or so people at the local community center. They had also appeared the previous couple of nights at a Santa Monica church and a theater in Santa Barbara. The events were co-sponsored by Progressive Democrats of America (PDA) and U.S. Tour of Duty, an anti-war group.

Ritter wouldn’t seem to have much in common with Cohen, a Democrat who played the resident liberal on CNN’s “Crossfire” for a time, talked politics on MSNBC, produced “Donahue,” and founded the national media watch group Fairness & Accuracy in Reporting (FAIR). Cohen, funny and affable, is used to basking in the spotlight, while the straitlaced Ritter comes off angry, like a man fed up with being ignored.

But Iraq has brought them together. Both decry the rush to war there and now, seemingly, in Iran, and both have written books (Ritter’s “Target Iran” and Cohen’s “Cable News Confidential”), which they’re signing at these events. While Ritter repeatedly blasted the imperialist aggression of Bush and his neo-con cabal, Cohen’s focus was more on their enablers in the corporate media.

Ritter said an attack on Iran will be inevitable in a few weeks when a fourth U.S. battle carrier group takes position within striking distance of Tehran. Answering questions from the crowd, he said the administration knows sustaining another long-term military conflict would be impossible, which is why he predicted our use of tactical nuclear weapons should the American people and Congress fail to stop the aggression before it starts. Cohen, citing the growth of organized anti-war opposition, said he was more optimistic about the future than Ritter, which under the circumstances was not a particularly high bar to jump.

Mary Pallant, a PDA activist, said former L.A. Times columnist and editor in chief of truthdig.com, Robert Scheer will soon be scheduled to appear at the Oak Park community center as part of his current speaking tour.

I was betrayed last year.

The independent, Santa Monica cafe in which I liked to write pulled the plug on the nationwide wireless Internet provider to which I had been paying monthly dues for access. In its place, the cafe management installed a system that required payment by the hour, a practice I consider not unlike loan sharking.

This was how they repaid patrons like myself who did the right thing and resisted the temptation to piggyback for free on the signals of the apartment dwellers above. (One resident had named his router "STOP STEALING MY INTERNET," so it wasn't difficult to determine that doing so without permission was wrong.)

I abandoned the cafe after that and took my laptop up the street to Starbucks. The Internet isn't cheap there either, but at least I could pay a monthly fee comparable to the one I had been paying, far less than hourly rates at the old place (when you consider how frequently I write in cafes). And besides, I won't be paying these fees forever, right? Isn't Los Angeles bound to catch up to other major, wired cities?

In the meantime, however, Zach Behrens at LAist has posted a blog entry that suggests there may already be a way to do the right thing, save a considerable amount of money, and put a few bucks in the pocket of those who might otherwise cry "STOP STEALING MY INTERNET."

From LAist:

If you live in WiFi range of a Starbucks (above, next to), FON, "the world's largest WiFi community", will send you a free internet Fonero router. No, you won't be giving free internet to people, but it is cheaper. People who want to hook into your router will pay $2 for the service. That means $1 for you and $1 for Fon. This might even end up cheaper than the civic WiFi we expect to see in 2009.

Of course, some people will have computer security questions/concerns. And you can't rule out a possible counter attack by Starbucks (is it possible, or legal, to block those signals?). But, the idea sounds like it's at least worth a look. You'll find the link to more about the program at LAist.

Did anyone drive past the Wilshire Theater on Saturday night? I ask because I'm wondering if it was glowing and pulsating slightly on the outside. On the inside it was filled to capacity with adoring James Taylor fans, awash in music and pleasure and love. It felt like the building itself was a beating heart. You can read Richard Cromelin's review of the show here for critical detail, which I am too subjective to offer.

My mother introduced me to JT when I was eight, bringing "Sweet Baby James" and "One Man Dog" into the house on LP. I quickly absconded with them where they stayed in permanent rotation on my bedroom turntable.

My mom replaced those purloined albums with 8-Tracks which we listened to in the family car. They were the soundtrack for our long drives up to Duchess County, NY, where we stayed with our James-Taylor-lovin' friends the Hayses, in their ramshackle farmhouse. I can feel the bumps in the road and hear the whir of crickets outside our car window as "Country Road" played on our tinny car stereo. I remember vividly an afternoon spent at the crossroads outside our friends' house with Allison, their teenage daughter, waving McGovern/Shriver banners (who I supported simply because my parents did) at passing cars and singing the entire Taylor songbook.

James Taylor was a safe haven for me in the 1970's. As my parents caromed toward an ugly divorce, and the sexual laissez-fair of the 70's shoved its way into my pre-teen consciousness, Taylor offered a gentle adult worldview. "Something in the Way She Moves," was how I wanted to be described by a boy. "Shower the People You Love With Love" was the answer for all the grief I felt for my parent's dying marriage. After they split, when my father was living in Los Angeles, he took me to see James Taylor at an open-air theater (Universal? The Ford?). It was my first concert, and James was a lean, long-haired troubadour, inflaming my tender heart.

I devoted my 'tween years to James Taylor, saving up allowance to buy "Gorilla", "In the Pocket" and "Walking Man." I would lie in bed and fantasize about James, trying to decide which of his albums I would save first were my room to actually combust from the heat of my passion.

Then I went to boarding school, where I was introduced to a larger world of singer/songwriters. Even though it was already 1979, I discovered Joni Mitchell, Crosby, Stills, Nash (and Young!) , Carole King (you're kidding, you mean she wrote "You've Got a Friend"?!), and James Taylor seemed an embarrassing part of the geeky childhood I was trying to put behind me.

Over the next twenty years James lost his hair, and I lost interest. I judged him by his dweeby-looking album covers. I turned up my nose and stayed away, thinking that something that meant so much to me when I was eleven, couldn't possibly be meaningful now. Instead I was listening to Victoria Williams, Matthew Sweet, John Wesley Harding, Lucinda Williams, Syd Straw, The Bedshredders (anyone of you local yokels remember them?), The Dixie Chicks -- all those artists would probably have been the first to smack me on the forehead and tell me to go back to listening to James Taylor if they knew me.

Then I had kids. Sitting in the dark one night with a restive toddler, searching for something sweet to soothe her, "Sweet Baby James" came back to me, along with the complete lyrics, out of the rusty footlocker of my memory. Its magic was still intact and it conjured the same feelings and mental pictures it did thirty years ago. I have sung it to my daughter Georgia literally hundreds of times over the past few years, and our pleasure in the song never diminishes.

James Taylor is all about pleasure. He knows what feels good and he's not afraid to give it to you. My friend Jaff, a hedonist in her own right, got us the tickets. A woman of unabashed enthusiasms, she ranks her love for James Taylor just half a notch below her love for her dog Franny. When she told me she was taking me to see him, I got on board immediately, just to be with her. As far as Taylor was concerned, I'll admit I was a little circumspect. Would it be embarrassing? Corny? Hokey? But the minute he took the stage with his guitar, draped his long body over a tall stool, and strummed the opening chords of "Something in the Way She Moves," I was right back in his pocket, like I had never left.

It can be argued that his palette hasn't changed much over the years, and there are those who accuse him of having a narrow range - but what it lacks in breadth it more than makes up for in depth. He does what he does so well, and there is such huge delight to be had in his creamy voice, his sparkling guitar, his melodies that haunt and words that both caress and enlighten - to argue with his gift is to be a wretched cynic. "If it feels nice, don't think twice," James sings, and I promise I never will again. Having seen my own share of fire and rain, Taylor's songs now hold that much more meaning for me. I just want to be back in his world again. I've ordered the cd's of all the LP's I once owned, plus a couple of newer titles.

Perhaps some of you saw him on the Oscars performing Randy Newman's song from "Cars." Those were not ideal James-enjoying conditions. The microphone seemed to be feeding back on him, and the venue was all wrong. He was a fish among sharks, incongruous against all that glitz, and Newman's song, while pretty, doesn't have the emotional content that so animates Taylor's own work. But at The Wilshire Theater, he was a gem set in a lovely gift box.

At one point during the concert, as the ornate, deco walls of The Wilshire seemed to vibrate with the love and joy around us, Jaff turned to me, her face a study in ecstasy and said, "James Taylor just makes you want to live in a barn and eat jam."

Yes. It was just a lovely ride.

Of the five best pictures nominees – "Babel," "The Departed," "Letters From Iwo Jima," "Little Miss Sunshine," and "The Queen" – there are statistical/historical anomalies working against each one of them, so no matter who wins there will be an element of surprise and the unexpected.

Like a lot of Los Angelenos, I've heard many versions of this sentiment repeated ad infinauseum this week, and it's driven me to dread the traditional marking of the ballot. Why bother? My wife wins every year anyway.

And so, I decided to base my pick for Best Picture on something other than statistics, or history. Instead, I would seek the opinion of someone so disconnected from pop culture (and far from the west side of Los Angeles) that their guess is guaranteed to be based on nothing but street-level buzz.

I called my dad.

Trust me, my dad is the kind of guy who wouldn't know Cojo from Cujo. If my dad's heard anything about the Oscars while cocooned in his Midwestern Eagles Lodge it can only be because real people are talking about it.

Of course, it was no surprise to learn that my dad was completely unfamiliar with every Best Picture nominee.

Nonetheless, he humored me.

"The Departed" was a complete mystery. Dad supposed it was about "the Earth coming apart." He wagered that "Little Miss Sunshine" was "probably about some young girl that gets lost." And "Babel," he figured, had something to do with war.

"The Queen" wasn't the least bit of a puzzle. Hello? She's been "The Queen" most of his life, and for most (ok, ALL) of mine. How many things can we say that about?

In the end, my dad gave the nod to "Letters From Iwo Jima," which he guessed was about World War II, though he wasn't completely sure. His reasoning for picking it as Best Picture: "Because of what's going on in Iraq."

His generation, he said, would want to see a movie about World War II.

I asked my dad if he'd be tuning in to the awards ceremony on Sunday.

"I don't know," he said. "What time is it? I'm going to a picnic, so I don't know if I'll be back in time."

At about that point in the conversation I was feeling pretty confident. "What time is it?" "A picnic?" Ha. Is this genius or what?

Then, just before we said our goodbyes, my entire theory was shot to hell.

Dad ended the conversation by asking who my pick was for father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby.

Good God!

We both picked Larry Birkhead.

Larry Birkhead may be the first thing my dad and I have agreed on in 20 years.

And I haven't ruled out the possibility that this is a sign the Earth is coming apart.

Read a hard copy of the Los Angeles Times with your morning coffee? Chances are your paper has a commute just as tough as yours. And just think, you don't even have to go on a 9,840 foot conveyor belt ride through a 684,491 square foot 3-story plant before you can hop in the car.

The Times has two production facilities. The Olympic plant in downtown L.A. opened in June 1990 and according to a plaque in the lobby its 500 employees (with help from 6 Goss Colorliner presses and dozens of robots) produce 676 million copies of the Times annually. When I showed up to the "Oly" plant for a tour the presses were just starting to roll. Take a look:

Previously on LAO video: By a vote of 140 to 131, the Times' pressroom workers voted to unionize in January. Since then, the Times appealed the vote count to the National Labor Relations Board citing misconduct. A decision on whether the vote will be thrown out is expected soon. You probably shouldn't hold your breath for the final verdict, however. The losing side can take their appeal all the way to Washington.

LAO video edited by Alex Gans and photographed by Thomas Macker

LAO was invited to (and subsequently trapped at) Barack Obama's first rally as a presidential candidate in Los Angeles. Before I escaped to upload this video, I caught up with a few of L.A.'s more familiar political faces and asked them for their Obama observations. Take a look:

Media roundup
Daniel Hernandez
Metroblogging LA
LAT
Political Muscle
AFP
NBC4

LAO video edited by Alex Gans and photographed by Thomas Macker

My following email correspondence with BMG Music Service took place between Dec. 9, 2006 and Feb. 8, 2007:

Last night (12/8/06) I ordered several CDs from you, expecting to get free shipping, as per your special offer. Before I had a chance to input the special offer code (D602), my order was automatically processed.... Please correct the billing of my order to reflect the free shipping. Thank you.

* * *

To: Mr Eric Estrin Account 8692360053

We'd like to share some information with you.
Shipping and Handling discounts are applied to music purchases only.
This offer does not apply to previously placed orders, BMG Store Merchandise, Videos, bonus or free product, and other specially priced
items such as boxed sets, gift certificates, sales exempt/restricted and clearance selections.
Your understanding is appreciated.
Your Friends at BMG Music Service

* * *

I would like the free shipping offer to apply to my order placed during the special promotion. I am not referring to a previously placed order. You made the offer; I accepted it, but it didn't register on my order. As a longtime member, I know I can count on you to correct this mistake.
Thank you,
Eric Estrin

* * *

To: Mr Eric Estrin Account 8692360053

Thank you for contacting us about charges on your account. Listed below for each selection in question is the base price, plus shipping & handling and any applicable sales tax.

> > > > BASE PR S/H TAX TOTAL
> > > > D1626498 EXTREME BEHAVIOR 6.64 0.00 0.55 $ 7.19
> > > > D1042225 PARANOID 6.64 0.00 0.55 7.19
> > > > D1653989 SWEET ESCAPE (PREM 12.98 2.79 1.30 17.07
> > > > D1652734 FEVER YOU CAN'T SW 15.98 2.79 1.55 20.32
> > > > D1652890 TAKING THE (PREMIU 13.98 2.79 1.38 18.15
> > > > D1626522 ALL THE RIGHT REAS 6.64 0.00 0.55 7.19
> > > > D1117928 STEPHEN STILLS 6.64 0.00 0.55 7.19
TOTAL FOR ABOVE SELECTIONS $ 84.30

As the billing indicated, the total charge is $84.30.
The selections D1653989, D1652734, and D1652890 are Premium Titles and are sales exempt.

One Day Sale Shipping and Handling discounts are applied to music purchases only. This offer does not apply to previously placed orders,
Featured Selections, BMG Store Merchandise, Videos, sales exempt product, bonus or free product and other specially priced items such as boxed sets, gift certificates, and clearance selections. Your discount is reflected in MyCart when the order is submitted.

Your understanding is appreciated.

Your Friends at BMG Music Service

* * *

Sirs,
The amount you charged my credit card ($95.51) is greater than the amount you say I owe ($84.30).
Futhermore, you say that certain purchases were not included in your special offer, but I was not notified of that when I made the purchase.
Furthermore, I just tried to look at my purchase order online and found that you have deleted my access to previous purchase records.
Therefore, I am asking my credit card company to stop payment on my order.
Please hire a bookeeper and get back to me when you have things sorted out.
Also, please cancel my subscription.
Sincerely,
Eric Estrin

* * *

To: Mr Eric Estrin Account 8692360053
Thank you for contacting us about charges on your account. Listed below for each selection in question is the base price, plus shipping &
handling and any applicable sales tax.
> > > BASE PR S/H TAX TOTAL
> > > D1626498 EXTREME BEHAVIOR 6.64 0.00 0.55 $ 7.19
> > > D1042225 PARANOID 6.64 0.00 0.55 7.19
> > > D1653989 SWEET ESCAPE (PREM 12.98 2.79 1.30 17.07
> > > D1652734 FEVER YOU CAN'T SW 15.98 2.79 1.55 20.32
> > > D1652890 TAKING THE (PREMIU 13.98 2.79 1.38 18.15
> > > D1626522 ALL THE RIGHT REAS 6.64 0.00 0.55 7.19
> > > D1117928 STEPHEN STILLS 6.64 0.00 0.55 7.19
> > > D1314772 SURFING WITH-REMAS 0.00 2.79 0.23 3.02
> > > D1489756 BLUES GUITAR-MILLE 0.00 2.79 0.23 3.02
> > > D1509926 IMA ROBOT 1.99 2.79 0.39 5.17

TOTAL FOR ABOVE SELECTIONS $ 95.51

As the billing indicated, the total charge is $95.51.
Your membership in BMG Music Service has been canceled as you requested.
The balance due on your closed account is $0.00.
Thank you for choosing BMG Music Service.

* * *

Thank you for your response.
Based on your information, I calculate that you have overcharged me $18.25 -- the cost of shipping on four items, plus sales tax on the shipping charge.
Again, the sale you advertised stated there would be no S/H charges on all CDs ordered that day.
I will authorize payment of 77.26 through my credit card.
Thank you for canceling my account.

* * *

To: Mr Eric Estrin Account 8692360053

Thank you for contacting us about charges on your account. Listed below are the selections which did not qualify for the Free shipping
and handling promotion:

> > BASE PR S/H TAX TOTAL
> > D1653989 SWEET ESCAPE (PREM 12.98 2.79 1.30 $ 17.07
> > D1652734 FEVER YOU CAN'T SW 15.98 2.79 1.55 20.32
> > D1652890 TAKING THE (PREMIU 13.98 2.79 1.38 18.15
> > D1509926 IMA ROBOT 1.99 2.79 0.39 5.17
TOTAL FOR ABOVE SELECTIONS $ 60.71

One Day Sale Shipping and Handling discounts do not apply to Featured Selections, BMG Store Merchandise, Videos, sales exempt product, bonus or free product and other specially priced items such as boxed sets, gift certificates, and clearance selections. Your discount is reflected in MyCart when the order is submitted.
Your understanding is appreciated.
Your Friends at BMG Music Service

* * *

Dear "Friends at BMG,"
On your last email, you included six selections that you claimed did not qualify for the free shipping and handling promotion. On this email you list only four such selections. Which is it? When I ordered the CDs, I did not see anything saying there were certain selections that didn't qualify. Was that notice displayed prominently onscreen? Which screen? It would be helpful to me and VISA if you could send a copy of this notice as it appeared on the promotion.
Thank you,
Your friend in Oak Park

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To: Mr Eric Estrin Account 8692360053

Thank you for contacting us about our Premium Titles. Premium Titles are a collection of today's music and classic hits, including albums
previously unavailable in the Club.

The Premium Titles are available on our website for credit card purchase only. They are not available as bonus or free selections or
free with Music Points and cannot qualify you to receive sale or free selections.

To view a complete listing of our Premium Titles, please visit our website... and click on the Premium Titles link on your homepage.

Thank you for shopping with BMG Music Service.
Your Friends at BMG Music Service

* * *

To: BMG Music Service

I asked you to cancel my subscription to your service, and you responded that my membership had indeed been canceled. (Scroll down to previous messages to see our correspondence.) So why am I still getting annoying emails from you touting offers that, I now realize, come with hidden fees and strings attached? I no longer wish to hear from you beyond one last response, informing me that you are removing my name from your membership rolls and your database forever.
Sincerely,
Eric Estrin

* * *

To: Mr Eric Estrin Account 8692360053

We are sorry to learn that you do not want to continue your membership in BMG Music Service. Please be assured your account has been
canceled.

It's possible that a recent Club announcement is being prepared. If you should receive such an email, please disregard it.

On behalf of our club, I hope you've enjoyed your membership. We hope to have the pleasure of serving you again in the future.

Your Friends at BMG Music Service

Today I watched Mayor Villaraigosa announce that the City of Los Angeles hopes to have a citywide WiFi network operable by 2009. The kinks still have to be worked out, he said, like whether L.A.'s emergency responders will be dependent on a network run by the private sector if catastrophe strikes. To compare, New York City runs a dedicated network for their emergency responders, with the rest of the wireless airwaves open to private competition.

In the video the Mayor tells me that he personally favors using the phone over the internet. He also answers the question that many have speculated about since yesterday: what was he talking about with Paris Hilton when this photo was snapped at a Grammy after-party this weekend? I'll let him tell you:

On December 31, 2006, my health insurance cost $4715/year. On January 1, it rose to $12,268, when CIGNA hiked the premiums up to 254% for the writers, actors, and artists nationwide who buy insurance through the Entertainment Industry Group.

I'm thrilled. Really. Ecstatic. Well, at first I was a little bit upset, since I don't actually have the money. But I refuse to add another sob story to the daily stream.

No, I am looking on the bright side, and I can think of at least ten reasons I should be happy to pay $1022/month for health insurance—and why I’m excited that insurance companies like CIGNA will remain in charge of my health care under the reform plans proposed in California and other states.

That's $1.40 an hour. $11.20 for every eight-hour night of sleep. $4.20 to go to dinner with friends. $5.60 to watch the Oscars. Take a shower, pay CIGNA 35 cents. But here's why I'm happy:

1. CIGNA could have raised the rate to $50,000/year--or $500,000/year or $5 million/hour or $50 million/minute, since in California, as in most states, there is no federal or state law that would have prevented it.

2. I don't live in New Jersey or San Francisco--where the plan I'm on is now $13,358 and $14,943.

3. The plan for families in L.A. rose to $29,831--and in San Francisco to $44,231, which could easily be 100% of my income. While I've been thinking about having kids, I can see now what a huge mistake that could be.

4. I like CIGNA. At least they pay my claims rather than deny them, unlike my prior insurer Blue Shield. As far as I know, they're not denying coverage to people with acne or roofing jobs (that'd be HealthNet, Blue Shield, PacifiCare), and unlike Blue Cross and Kaiser Foundation, they're not under investigation for canceling the policies of sick people.

CIGNA drives people away perfectly legally, with astronomical premiums--which is just good old-fashioned market-driven economics.

5. The CEO of CIGNA deserves a raise--for all the reasons above. He made $28.82 million ($54.83/minute, and 6117 premiums at my rate) in compensation in 2005--just 1.8% of the total $1.63 billion profit. Not to mention, he freely donates some of that compensation to the Republican National Committee--which agrees he needs a raise--and he helped create the Council For Affordable Quality Health Care.

6. Freelance writing is a tough way to make a living--and I'm happy to find a new career anyway, which I'll have to do since a) this country has almost accidentally acquired a byzantine and senseless employer-based system and b) I can't get insured as an individual, since I've had the bad judgment to acquire health problems.

Alternatively, I could be a freelance writer in Canada. Or maybe Massachusetts, which just passed laws that require these companies to enroll everyone--though the companies just submitted bids that are far higher than what the state projected.

Or I could live with Mom and Dad and wait around to see if the Governor’s plans for a Massachusetts-type market-based system work out.

7. I like Canada a lot. I like cold weather, and I love to cross-country ski. And most of the people in America who are sick or self-employed are about to move to Massachusetts anyway, so that's going to get fairly crowded.

8. I'm terrible at making decisions--the big ones, especially. So I have to tell you I'm relieved that we finally have an entity in this free-market democracy--the health-insurance industry--that is deciding not only which doctors we can see and what treatments we can have and who can get health care but also where we can live, what careers we can pursue, and how many kids we can reasonably contemplate having.

9. National insurance, or any other non-market-driven alternative, would be un-American. Sure, the other developed countries (you know, all of them) spend half or less on health care, don't have 47 million uninsured citizens, and enjoy higher life expectancies and lower infant mortality rates.

However, if you truly believe that the primary goal of our health-care system should be to maximize private profits, then we should keep Americans' health in the hands of such companies as this one, which has $44.86 billion in assets, and which delivers a 37% return to shareholders. Which pays $1,139,084 in compensation (93 premiums) to its eleven Directors, most of whom have never worked in any health-related field. And which does not mention health care provision in its eight stated criteria to assess CEO performance--nor in its self-description as "a high performance company that focuses on our control environment, risk management and total shareholder return."

10. I'm feeling sick already. Headaches. Ulcers. Heart palpitations. Insomnia. Panic attacks. I might just get my money's worth. Has anyone compiled statistics on how many people are becoming sick from the stress of worrying about how to get and pay for health insurance?

It can almost make you hope you slip in the shower--and put that 35 cents to good use.