The scene is a beauty parlor. Two women of a certain age are seated next to each other under the dryers.

"My son the doctor," says the first, "has a decent surgical practice. He's a good provider for his family, but wishes he could make more. You know how it is with Medicare--they never reimburse enough, and the insurance companies always stick it to him. Whether he likes it or not, a lot of his work ends up being pro bono.

"Nevertheless, he still finds time once a year to travel to third world countries with Doctors Without Borders to repair cleft palates on underprivileged children."

The other puts down her magazine and smiles broadly. "My son the doctor," she replies, "finished med school, did his residency in pharmacology, and paid off his student loans in one year. He works in a pain clinic on a per-patient contract basis, and makes over a million per by providing pain relief to patients all over the country. In cash, I might add."

Both women must be so proud.

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The rest of the industrialized world scratches its head in wonderment as the greatest economic power on earth--the shining city on the hill--squabbles over something they've all taken for granted for generations.

Why are we so far behind even our Canadian cousins when it comes to health care? It's our uniquely American way of viewing the solution to societal needs through the prism of the free enterprise system.

From the days that the Declaration of Independence was written and before, government has been viewed as something individuals need to be protected from, while other countries see it as the collectivization of individual needs under one paternalistic umbrella.

Both approaches have their pros and cons. Unfortunately, looking after the medical health of all citizens, including the underprivileged, is not one of free enterprise's strong suits.

Obama is trying to get Congress to go out on a limb with this one, and Congress is never comfortable treading where its immediate self-interest does not lie. One thing the Republicans are right about: If health care reform does pass, it'll be with us for good, because no member of any party will be willing to take back something the have-nots have begun to enjoy for the very first time.

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For Americans, the Postal Service is a little like Congress: While we despise the institution as a whole, we tend to have a better relationship with our local representative.

Postal customers nurture a romanticized, Norman Rockwellian view of the intrepid mail carrier (I guess mine is intrepid. If I happen to be around the mailbox when she gurgles by in her Jeep, she's always yakking away on her cellphone, so I can't be certain).

It is probably this view that has allowed the Postal Service to survive as a top-heavy, money-hemorrhaging bureaucracy for as long as it has. For generations, six-day-a-week mail delivery brought us holiday greetings, good and bad news, government checks, bills, catalogs--in short, it was the home front's primary contact point with the outside world.

Technology's merciless march spares no antiquated institution, and it's time to start trimming this one. Five-day-a-week delivery? Why not three...Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays?

Sure, at first it might tug a little at your heartstrings, but I ask you: Do you still miss the milkman?

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Was it Voltaire or Descartes? I don’t remember…the Age of Enlightenment was centuries ago, and at the time I first heard about it, I was concentrating on the Cartesian curves of Mlle. Daphné, a young woman in my high school French class. Je désire, donc je suis.

Anyway, something one of those periwigged philosophers wrote actually managed to penetrate my teenage hormonal haze and take root.

“What if everything we’ve heard about God, creation, the purpose of Man, the soul, and divine salvation are all just a big joke (I paraphrase)? Even if that’s so, and we simply disappear into a void at the end, isn’t expressing a moral life of probity, humility and compassion for one’s fellow man the best way to live? Then, if we happen to find out when we die that it’s all for real, we are saved.”

If you extend this line of thinking, then maybe practicing good stewardship of our planet is worthy in its own right, even if climate change isn’t the result of man’s actions.

There’s no question that we pollute. Accessible, potable fresh water for millions of the world’s population is only a dream. In many places, people get diseases and die from the poor air quality.

Why not just pretend we’re to blame, and act accordingly, even if we can’t accept the fact? That way, there’s no chance of finding out we were wrong after it’s too late to do anything about it.

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This isn't what our local pols bargained for when they ran for the legislature.

When they first dreamed of lunging for the brass ring, they imagined themselves dispensing state-funded goodies back in the home district, making lots of new friends with expensive shoes, getting wined and dined on someone else's dime, and being part of an elite club of movers and shakers.

This year, they're having to slink back to the state capital wearing rubber Halloween masks. Thanks to ethics rules, there's no more hobnobbing with the Gucci Gulch crowd at Clyde's (unless you pay for your own drinks, and that's no fun), no more fancy free dinners (goodbye, "Tallahassee Tummy,") and there won't be any county senior centers or swimming pool complexes back home named after them either, no sir.

There won't be any thanks for a job well done, because the better they do their job, the more complaints they're going to get from the local folks.

The session promises to be a joyless and punishing test of nerves and stamina. When it's all over, some of those pols will stumble out beaten and broken, others may emerge as statesmen.

We'll see, 60 days from now.

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Maybe this should be another entry in the "Future Generations Will Curse Us" category.

"What on earth could they have been thinking," travelers will muse in 2050 as they set sail on their wind-powered tricycles, "to burn precious gasoline at the rate of one gallon per ten miles, in order to power a multi-tonned metal monster down to the dry cleaner's and back?"

Their disgust will be tempered by incredulity: "Did you know that back then, besides trying to look cool by riding high and proud in bogus military-style vehicles, people used to surgically implant bags full of plastic in their chests in order to make themselves more attractive? How primitive!"

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Why is the public option such a political third rail, even to President Obama?

What part of “option” don’t people understand? If it were going to be mandatory, they’d call it the “public requirement.”

If you want to fall for the scare tactic of a bureaucrat getting between you and your doctor, then fine…don’t opt for it.

Let a profit-seeking insurance adjuster make your life-and-death medical decisions for you. Since that’s pretty much the way things are now, you can stick with what’s comfortable.

Anybody who thinks that the Great American Profit Motive and the equitable, compassionate dispensation of health care share the same code of ethics either has his head wedged in a bedpan or enjoys his own Cadillac health plan and doesn’t care about anyone else.

Not that there’s anything wrong with the Great American Profit Motive. It’s great for making stuff, floating some if not all boats, and keeping congressional campaigns solvent--but I wouldn’t want to rely on it as the only bulwark standing between me and my headstone.

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