I know that hospitals have free health clinics for the same reason they have Lifeflight helicopters. They pay large dividends. A few years ago one of the Omaha hospitals did nearly $100K of medical work for every patient that a chopper dropped off. The free screening will catch things like hyper thyroids, which, when the endocrinologist gets done, will gain them large sums. (this reminds me, I'll soon tell you about my experience with the radioactive cocktail)
Anyway, John Deere dealers do the same thing. For only $150 they will change the oil, wash, wax and replace some of the filters, and grease, your combine. Not bad eh? Oh yeah, free shipping. They will drive 45 miles with a semi-trailer, load this mammoth and take it to Iowa. FREE. What a Con-tree!!
So I get the call. Since I am the Insurance company in this case. "We'd like to come over and talk about which of the problems you'd like fixed". "Uh, why, how much will it be"? "I'll send someone over to visit with you and show you some estimates".
oboy.
"Only $6200! Well by all means, operate. Could we try it without novacaine? Would that cheapen it up"?
The combine came home. The bill 2 days later. $9200 "Uh do you guys need to add a $100 charge for 'non-descript' shop supplies to a nine thousand dollar repair bill?"
"Oh you don't, Oh that's wonderful, what about the $3000 overrun on the estimate?"
"No kidding, free pick-up and delivery?" "How do I pay for this"? "No interest or payment till January"!!! Great.
At least we know the thing's in perfect condition.
Yup. You guessed it. We got about 100 yards, before we had to call the shop to come fix this thing. Help!
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
B. S. I.
This is what happens when you have a 4 hour delay in Wichita. It is however a good example of the idle mind at work. The story is true. I think I'm getting behind the curve with these boys.
Body Shop Investigation
I was running my Freightliner down Interstate Eighty,
When an idea popped into my head.
I’ll stop in Lincoln and see the boys,
The twenty-seventh street exit straight ahead.
I pulled up in front, the family name,
Was proudly displayed on the sign.
Collision repair’s the name of their game,
They saw me and said “Just in time”!
“Come over here, it’ll be of some interest”
As we went to the back of the shop.
There sat a truck, a two thousand two,
With damage to the front end and top.
He calmly explained, he’d bought it this way,
And to fix’er up was his intention.
He’d drive it a while, be livin’ in style,
This plan was not his invention.
“Dad it’s done all the time,
The title is clear, It’ll make someone a nice truck.
It needs a grill, a fender, a hood,
And then he said with some luck”.
“I’ll sell it cheap, make a dollar or two,
To hold someone up’s not my game.
We’ll do it right, use quality parts,
You’ll never know she’s been lame.”
Said I “That’s a plan, but I have a question,
What happened to this truck in the wreck?”
I could then plainly tell, by the look on his face,
His excitement was barely in check.
“It’s my favorite pastime, to examine an auto,
and determine from the crinkles and bends,
Exactly what happened, the forces at work,
It’s a science Dad, I don’t need to pretend.”
His Brother chimed in, “this isn’t a guess,
We use the knowledge we’ve gained.
To learn where to lift, and then where to pull,
To get a perfect, straight frame”
“When it’s on the rack, and we start to work,
We must have a full understanding,
Of how it was bent, rolled over or hit,
Or maybe just had a soft landing”
Then said I “Please, what happened here,
Can you tell me from what you can see.
Did it roll down a hill and under a truck,
Or hit a sand dune or maybe a tree?”
Skillful hands then rubbed the front fender,
And he said “Please look at the relation,
Of the damage here, compared to the front,
This was caused during extrication.
“There’s red paint here, and white over there,
And more red at different locations.”
These were excellent clues, for these CSI fans,
You could tell they love there vocation.
They then circled around to the right side,
And examined closely the wiper.
They pulled out some hair “This came from a deer”
A hint they were soon to decipher.
“We’ve considered all of the evidence,
The red and white paint plus the hair.
It’s seldom we can be this conclusive,
A slam dunk like this is quite rare.”
“Our investigation has come to an end,
The circumstances are really quite clear.
This truck was involved in a collision,
With Santa’s sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.”
This happened, I swear, as I’ve told you,
My boys had sure tickled their entra’ls.
What should have been stated, besides CSI,
They also watch Comedy Central.
Cliff Morrow
Copyright
August 2004
Body Shop Investigation
I was running my Freightliner down Interstate Eighty,
When an idea popped into my head.
I’ll stop in Lincoln and see the boys,
The twenty-seventh street exit straight ahead.
I pulled up in front, the family name,
Was proudly displayed on the sign.
Collision repair’s the name of their game,
They saw me and said “Just in time”!
“Come over here, it’ll be of some interest”
As we went to the back of the shop.
There sat a truck, a two thousand two,
With damage to the front end and top.
He calmly explained, he’d bought it this way,
And to fix’er up was his intention.
He’d drive it a while, be livin’ in style,
This plan was not his invention.
“Dad it’s done all the time,
The title is clear, It’ll make someone a nice truck.
It needs a grill, a fender, a hood,
And then he said with some luck”.
“I’ll sell it cheap, make a dollar or two,
To hold someone up’s not my game.
We’ll do it right, use quality parts,
You’ll never know she’s been lame.”
Said I “That’s a plan, but I have a question,
What happened to this truck in the wreck?”
I could then plainly tell, by the look on his face,
His excitement was barely in check.
“It’s my favorite pastime, to examine an auto,
and determine from the crinkles and bends,
Exactly what happened, the forces at work,
It’s a science Dad, I don’t need to pretend.”
His Brother chimed in, “this isn’t a guess,
We use the knowledge we’ve gained.
To learn where to lift, and then where to pull,
To get a perfect, straight frame”
“When it’s on the rack, and we start to work,
We must have a full understanding,
Of how it was bent, rolled over or hit,
Or maybe just had a soft landing”
Then said I “Please, what happened here,
Can you tell me from what you can see.
Did it roll down a hill and under a truck,
Or hit a sand dune or maybe a tree?”
Skillful hands then rubbed the front fender,
And he said “Please look at the relation,
Of the damage here, compared to the front,
This was caused during extrication.
“There’s red paint here, and white over there,
And more red at different locations.”
These were excellent clues, for these CSI fans,
You could tell they love there vocation.
They then circled around to the right side,
And examined closely the wiper.
They pulled out some hair “This came from a deer”
A hint they were soon to decipher.
“We’ve considered all of the evidence,
The red and white paint plus the hair.
It’s seldom we can be this conclusive,
A slam dunk like this is quite rare.”
“Our investigation has come to an end,
The circumstances are really quite clear.
This truck was involved in a collision,
With Santa’s sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.”
This happened, I swear, as I’ve told you,
My boys had sure tickled their entra’ls.
What should have been stated, besides CSI,
They also watch Comedy Central.
Cliff Morrow
Copyright
August 2004
Saturday, September 18, 2004
I have finally taken my sleep test. Study for it was not bad. They wanted me to stay awake all day. Being on a Sunday it was with some difficulty, but I did it. They proceeded to glue electrodes on all over my head, face, chest, and legs. Put a sensor under my nose to tell them whether the air was coming out thru my mouth or nose. Put an oxygen sensor on my little finger. All of the above had a wire going to it. They could tell which way my eyes were looking and if they were open or closed. They knew by the microphone glued to my neck if I was talking or snoring. They new if I moved a leg or if I was breathing with my stomach or chest or both. There was a camera on me. These people surely work for Santa in December to determine if children are naughty or nice.
They got all of the wires gathered and made a kind of pony tail with them. (I'm sure the nurse knew how to wire dashboards on 747's. She then put a mask on my nose, asked me to not sleep on my side, (which I normally do) turned out the lights said good night and closed the door. I couldn't move without something pulling my skin.
After all of this I lay there, thinking, a mistake. I have a thought that goes thru my head several times a year. I find myself in a very uncomfortable, avoidable, situation. I usually get there by saying yes to someone I owe a favor to and the question usually starts with "Cliff, I'm going to be gone all next week and I was wondering if you would....", then I say "'yes" and think "how on earth did I get into this?". In this case it is an elective test, but I layed there, thinking and started laughing. It's not possible to laugh with air being pumped up your nose and down your throat. I could have gotten the role of Darth Vader with that voice. I hope the laughing doesn't show up on the printouts. Other wise the Dr will be saying, 'Uh Nancy, what's this, what was happening to the patient right here?"
I'm glad Mom and Santa didn't have this equipment when I was young.
They got all of the wires gathered and made a kind of pony tail with them. (I'm sure the nurse knew how to wire dashboards on 747's. She then put a mask on my nose, asked me to not sleep on my side, (which I normally do) turned out the lights said good night and closed the door. I couldn't move without something pulling my skin.
After all of this I lay there, thinking, a mistake. I have a thought that goes thru my head several times a year. I find myself in a very uncomfortable, avoidable, situation. I usually get there by saying yes to someone I owe a favor to and the question usually starts with "Cliff, I'm going to be gone all next week and I was wondering if you would....", then I say "'yes" and think "how on earth did I get into this?". In this case it is an elective test, but I layed there, thinking and started laughing. It's not possible to laugh with air being pumped up your nose and down your throat. I could have gotten the role of Darth Vader with that voice. I hope the laughing doesn't show up on the printouts. Other wise the Dr will be saying, 'Uh Nancy, what's this, what was happening to the patient right here?"
I'm glad Mom and Santa didn't have this equipment when I was young.
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