There are two ways to learn life’s lessons; one easy, the other hard. Here is one I learned
the hard way.

In previous columns I have glowingly referenced my trophy wife. Perhaps I have over
glorified her attributes because she has a dark side you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark
alley. I was trapped in that proverbial dark alley one evening in Colorado.

The exact details of the evening have been lost due to time; I believe psychologists refer
to this as repressed memory. I was in vet school and Druann was pregnant, newly
pregnant, still pregnant or recently pregnant. We were standing in the entry way of our
apartment in married student housing. (Using the term “entry way” makes it sound
roomier than it actually was. Depending on which way you were facing you could have
called it the kitchen, living, or utility room.)

I had just returned from playing basketball so I had a ball tucked under my arm. This
became an unfortunate coincidence. We were debating some issue and in disgust, she
turned and walked away. To make my point I said, “Oh pooh,” and very, very lightly and
very, very affectionately tossed the basketball at her backside. Over my 24 year life I had
made many stupid mistakes; this became the granddaddy of them all.

It wasn’t the quickness with which she pivoted, or the bulging of her jugular vein that
scared me. It was the green color of her pupils, as her head spun 360 degrees on top of
her shoulders that made me realize my playful bounce-pass was a dangerous mistake.
She backed me into a corner and began thumping on my chest screaming, “Don’t you
ever throw a basketball at me again!”

“But what if you are breaking to the basket and you are open?” I squeaked between the
blows.

Being pregnant, she fatigued and the beating stopped. Had I known the reaction to my
well placed pass in advance, I never would have done it. Had someone given me a little
guidebook when I got married and Marriage Rule #17 said, “Never hit your wife in the
bottom with a basketball?” I would have recognized it was a bad idea. Had I only
known?

With that story fresh in mind, and to help you avoid making a similar mistake, let me
explain Rule #17 as it applies to taxes and our national healthcare crisis. Proponents for
socialized healthcare are screaming that a life-or-death crisis exists and people will be
dying in the streets if we don’t immediately pass this legislation---that will not take effect
until 2013. “Don’t worry about the cost,” they argue. “We will tax the rich, their
businesses, and high-end insurance policies to give you ordinary Americans the free
healthcare you deserve.”

Here is Tax Rule #17: The top 50 percent of all taxpayers pay 97 percent of all the tax
revenue to the federal government. If you earn $32,879 dollars annually you are in that
top 50% of America’s wealthiest taxpayers. So who ultimately pays the bill for the
freebies politicians exchange for re-election votes? You do.

Exactly what is the benefit of giving more tax dollars to the government so they can in
turn gift you free healthcare (less, of course, a small administration fee)? None, but it is
not about benefit, it is about control. You will become prisoner to the monstrous,
oppressive government you created (or allowed to be created), and because of Rule #17,
you also get to pay for it. Isn’t socialism wonderful?