Back to Work

My neck still hurts.

I got my first pair of glasses in the 5th grade. By the time I was in college, my vision was so bad that I couldn't identify Screamin' Jay Hawkins from 3 feet away without my specs. I couldn't see the pace clock at the pool. I frequently walked into walls.

OK, the walking into walls thing may have had catalysts beyond myopia. But the point is that I was dependent on corrective lenses. So when I learned that our company insurance plan covered 100% of the cost of radial keratotomy surgery, I went for it. Sure, it was a somewhat experimental procedure at the time, and there was a significant risk of undesirable side effects (blindness, constant agony, etc)...but I figured that the pace of medical research and advances in computer technologies would ensure that if something went wrong, there'd be a new procedure to correct it coming along shortly.

I was right. That modern, improved procedure is called Lasik, and it's widely available now at very reasonable prices. The only problem is that RK patients can't get Lasik because the scar tissue from the incisions weakens the cornea beyond the point where...well, let's just say I'm not a candidate for additional eyeball carving. Ergo, after years of age-related deterioration of my visual acuity, I'm once again completely dependent on glasses. And at this point, I require trifocals.

What does this have to do with my sore neck, and with nose-bone-wearin', skull-holdin' blues singers? Well you see, when I ride my bike and actually want to see where I'm going, the glasses require me to lift my head up to an uncomfortable level. I can tolerate this nerve-pinching position for a limited time, but last Saturday's 4-hour ride left me pretty kinked up. And since I expect to be on the bike for as much as 12 hours this weekend, I'm afraid that I could face some major need for rehab once I descend from the saddle.

Unfortunately, my current insurance program does not cover chiropractic or massage expenses. Which brings me to the deep philosophical math question that forms the central point of this blog.

How can every insurance company save you 15% if you switch to them?

Seriously, this seems to defy logic. If Allstate saves you 15% over Geico, and Geico saves you 15% over Allstate, shouldn't it create a DO-loop that eventually invokes Zeno's paradox? If anyone knows how this mind-bending dilemma can be resolved, please let me know.

And while we're on the topic of unanswerable advertising questions, I'd also like to learn if anyone knows how much extra business is generated by those guys who stand on the street corner and juggle giant arrow-shaped signs in front of oncoming traffic. Most of them flip and waggle the signs so much that you can't even read what business is paying the dude to stand out there in the heat. And if you do figure out what they're trying to sell, you've already passed the intersection before the advertising message can pass through enough brain circuitry to trigger the "Gosh, I should check that out" reflex. I would bet a large sum of money that very few waving arrow signs carry enough emotional clout to motivate a U-turn.

How much do those guys get paid, anyway? And is there a training school for flipping and spinning street-corner advertising media? Do panhandlers ever get in fights with sign spinners over which one stakes a claim on a prime corner? And how in the heck do the store accountants measure the percentage of their daily business that's generated by the sign jockey's manic motions? How do they know they're getting their money's worth by hiring the guy?

And does wearing a costume increase effectiveness? Is a human-sized hot dog more effective than a gorilla, or a hairy dude with a fright wig?

I don't know. They did not teach us those things in my advertising classes back a KU. But if I find out, I'll be sure to pass the info along. In the meantime, give those guys a break by smiling and waving, and have a great day!