Those of you who grew up in the red states may remember a hit 1970's TV show called "Hee Haw". One of the weekly segments featured the guest host for that week joining his Hee Haw buddies on the neighbohood front porch commiserating their mis-fortunes. The segment started with the show regulars singing the refrain below and then the host would relate his tale of woe.
Gloom, despair and agony on me.
Deep dark depression, excessive misery.
If it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all.
Gloom, despair amd agony on me.
State outsources Medicaid work to tiny town in northwest Montana
By TONY MESSENGER
Published Thursday, August 4, 2005
Gov. Matt Blunt is mending his ways.
Under fire for telling his case workers to stop referring upset clients to legislators and reeling from the news that a member of his security detail wouldn't allow disabled folks into a meeting of the disabilities commission, Blunt needed to make a positive step to pull himself out of the spiraling bad news related to Medicaid cuts that have cast him in a cruel light.
On Monday, Blunt finally made the kind of public relations move that will someday be highlighted in textbooks.
That was the day thousands of "your benefits have been cut" letters went out to Missouri Medicaid and MC+ clients.
These are folks who either will lose their eligibility because they make too much money or who might have to start making co-pays to keep their insurance. All in all, it was probably the least controversial of the various Medicaid cuts because most political observers felt the MC+ program had been expanded beyond a sustainable size during the administration of Gov. Bob Holden.
Normally when such letters go out, folks who get confused call their caseworkers or the toll-free numbers listed, and they find themselves on the other side of the line with a computerized voice.
If they're patient and have time, they stay on hold long enough to find a live person, who, by the way, will get in trouble if they suggest calling a legislator.
This time, Blunt and his crack staff bypassed the computerized phone hell system and came up with Sharon Rivera.
Rivera lives in Kalispell, Mont., a beautiful town in the northwest part of the state far, far away from Missouri.
She runs a music production company called Hawkstone Productions. Mostly she works as the booking agent for an American Indian musician named Jake Gladstone. She books his appearances all over the country, helps market his CDs and performs other duties related to the music business.
Rivera has one of those sweet, understanding voices that kindergarten teachers have. When you talk, there's no doubt she's listening. When she talks, you are soothed, no matter what she says.
Rivera's toll-free number for her business, (800) 735-2965, appears at the top of the state letterhead upon which all the Medicaid letters that went out on Monday are printed. According to the letterhead, the number is for folks whose hearing or speech is impaired. If they have questions about the letter, they're supposed to call and get answers.
Instead, they get Rivera.
Her phone, she says, has been ringing off the hook since Tuesday.
"I had 45 calls in an hour," she told me. "The folks are frustrated. They're typically not understanding the gist of the letter, so they take out their frustrations on me."
Rivera says she's had hundreds of phone calls. She has to keep answering her phone to do her business. Rather than hang up on folks, though, she's been talking to most of them.
"Many of them are old folks," she says. "Their voices are full of anguish. They just don't understand. They tell me their problems before they hear me say, `I can't help you.' "
She talks to them, she says, because she doesn't know what else to do. She's tried to call the state of Missouri to explain her situation, but mostly she gets stuck in a maze of voice mail.
"It's hard getting through," she says. "I'm on hold nonstop, and then I get a computerized message. I can't tell you how frustrating it is."
So for three days, she's been sharing her frustrations with the Missouri folks calling her about their lapsing benefits.
"I'm sad for them," she says. "They're struggling in life. I don't want to add more grief to their situation."
When I talked to Rivera yesterday morning, she had yet to return the first phone call she got from a live person in Missouri state government.
She expects they've found out about the phone number misprint and are trying to fix it. Meanwhile, she'll just keep answering her phone and making friends with Missourians upset with a government that cuts their benefits and then won't take their phone calls.
No doubt, she's made some of them feel better, and it hasn't cost the state a penny.
The governor finally got it right.
Gloom, despair Republicans on me.
Deep dark depression, excessive misery.
If it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all.
Gloom, despair Republicans on me.