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I am writing this article sat slack-jawed, on the edge of my seat, in front of the television as we speak. Considering that nobody, not you nor I, has been allowed to actually read just what is in this piece of legislation, I have just witnessed the House pass the proposed $1.2 billion US Health Care Reform Bill. 218 Democrat votes in favour were counted, the number needed to pass the bill; a seemingly full Republican house voted against the Bill…save for one rather “interesting” vote in favour from a Louisiana representative. Forgive me, but I think there is some truth in the matter when I say only God knows what’s been passed in the fine print. Realistically, the Senate are the next body who will be able to make a difference to this result.

A rather unfortunate problem which also recurrently surfaces in British parliament in such similar scenarios, is that the party providing opposition to the reform has insufficient evidence to suggest any provision of a viable, structured alternative strategy to improve the ailment. This is the silence into which the Republican vote falls. The statistics indicating exactly how this will affect the American population are mindblowing. A reported 96% of under 60 year olds are proposed to be covered by this new centralised healthcare, leaving the remaining one-third of 18 million Americans excluded without healthcare (including legal aliens and American residents like myself. Ho hum.). The conscientious person amongst us asks, so where does the money come from for this? Good question! Funding is expected to come from further cuts from the already pitifully suffering Medicare program, (which certain groups insist, laughably, is in excellent operation…oh, pull the other leg will ya!). Of course this does not leave out the role of the average taxpayer (read: you and me); people earning $500,000 per annum can expect higher taxes of a juicy 5.4% surcharge. Not that I take this issue at all lightly but at this stage, I really have to laugh. Wasn’t it America all those years ago, who declared freedom from the British government on the basis of “no taxation without representation”, yet today the American governmental system insists on overtaxing it’s people for a type of healthcare that a majority did not necessarily ask for?

I have deliberately held off for months, from writing about this whole healthcare palaver. And with good reason. As a British person who was born under the British NHS, living in the US, I’m often expected to be the “voice of experience” amongst the opinions of a squabbling America. The additional advantage I would also have in this “seat of authority”, would be the lack of political subliminal influence which comes with being born in America. Two very important points I should bear in mind as a writer. This calls for great thought before offering my thoughts on this topic.

The one question I am constantly asked is, “What’s it like to live under centralized healthcare?” Realistically this is about as useful as asking the average, non-passport-holding American, “What’s it like living in a big country?” The answer to both of these is the same: “How would I know? I don’t know any different!” You want to hear the goodness and light version? Yes, the British people have access to ambulances any time they want, Emergency Room treatment anytime they want, frequent doctor appointments anytime the want, visits to specialists at at no extra surcharge and subsidised prices on medication and dental visits. Yes, we do have these benefits as a right. But it is by no stroke of the imagination, free. No, no, no. The British are well aware that regardless of whether they go to the doctor every 9 years or every 9 weeks, the payment for the NHS automatically comes out of their paychecks every month. It is a mandatory tax that can never be revoked, reimbursed nor contested.

At the last census, just under 61 million people live in the UK. My doctor’s office in West London has always been packed with people. It used to be that when doctors took their annual leave, your appointment would be rather inconveniently, rescheduled 3 weeks later due to backlog. These days if you want to see your NHS doctor or even your NHS dentist at your convenience, normal appointments have at the very least, a 3 week waiting list. It may shock the average twinkly-toothed American to hear this, but a general, rather silent check-up at an NHS dentist (see Ricky Gervais film ‘Ghosttown’ for a parody of the sour British dentist!) takes approximately 5-8 minutes; during which, you must request a “clean and polish” if you expect one, for a fee. And if I am being completely frank with you, in all my 29 years of being alive, an NHS doctor’s visit has never lasted longer than approximately 5-6 minutes, regardless of the severity of the illness – I am an asthmatic. Both my parents and records at my local London hospital will bear witness of the numerous times I have sat, unattended, in a dingy waiting room in Accident & Emergency (US: ER) having a 6 hour acute asthma attack. I vividly remember being partially collapsed against my mother, who sat from 11pm-5am with a blue-faced daughter gasping for air, while my father walked the corridors looking for a doctor, only to be told to wait his turn. Many a time I returned home untreated. The only benefit I’ve obtained from such experiences, is that I laugh in the faces of those who tell me asthma kills: if that sort of talk were true of all asthma sufferers, then I cheated death over 8 times in one year in 1988; many times more after that.

All Britons have triumphs and defeats within the NHS. If it hadn’t have been for the NHS, my dad might have died of blood poisoning when he was attacked by a Great Dane canine, who sunk his teeth so far into my father’s thigh he almost made a colander out of him. If it had not been for the NHS, the survivors of the July 7th “7/7” London terrorist bombs of 2005 might not be alive and well today. If it had not been for the NHS’ subsidised medication, I would have never outgrown my asthma as far as I have today. I do not overlook the successes of the British healthcare system at all. HOW- EVER. Unless you are in the minority who can afford privatised British healthcare, British people do not know any other kind of “better” healthcare outside of what they’ve experienced with the NHS. They cannot be faulted for saying the NHS “delivers a high standard of excellence” because the majority of us have no experience of some other “higher standard” healthcare! To many Britons, my descriptions are not unusual nor surprising. To many Americans they are horrifying; serving as ominous forewarnings for some.

Many agree that the current state of American health insurance is a mess which needs cleaning up. Is centralized healthcare a good idea for America? The future is uncertain and the outlook shaky from this point forward. Instead of hurrying unrevealed bills through the system, this presidency needs to tread very carefully to gain solid success with healthcare reform. Like democracy, it may certainly work in theory but in practice, you may lose a mouthful of teeth before there are any left to gnash.

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honda_102

For all things made, we are more spoiled with choice than ever before in this generation. Few young people know how to ignite something from scratch in this age, a worrying thought for the minority who traditionally opt for a beginning involving the tested measure of rubbing twigs together. In many ways, choice has become a proverbial enemy for the modern day inventor. This caused me to ask the deeper question, what of those who are still starting life with their bare hands? The generation without money is one that choice has no authority to obliterate. Without inspirational leaders the world has no example to follow for hope. Revered figures who were unafraid to get their hands dirty are all but died out. As a person drawn to legendary figures with explosive and often controversial, hardworking personalities, I harbour a great disappointment that the batons of the previous age have been left to diffuse on the ground. And so I found myself returning to the drawing board of those who picked up the first spanners of our civilisation, in particular one man I admire and liken much to my own father.

The bicycle shops of the Far East are filled with the stuff of young boys’ dreams, often being the backdrop for childhoods filled with excitement in it’s simplicity; the endless supply of opportunity found in nuts, bolts and mechanisms. Children fortunate enough to be taught by their mechanic fathers are often regarded as particular sorts of keyholders for the next generation. My own father grew up under this privilege, watching and helping his father repair a number of things besides bicycles in his repair shop. What is fascinating about this, is that this early stimulation of curiosity proved influential in shaping much of my father’s professional aptitude for application today. It caused him to flourish in the idea that in all things, there are limitless opportunities for growth and experimentation. Sadly, to the mind conquered by the new age, such menial tasks no longer have a place in association with excitement and thrill; we have pivoted past the point that almost everything we know has been replaced by electricity. Yet, there is still a growing need for the reliability, functionality and framework of honesty that physical mechanisms provide us with on a daily basis. One such pragmatist fulfilled this need many years ago, from which we continue to reap bountifully from today.

In 1906 a boy of simple background was born to a blacksmith in Hamamatzu, Shizuoka, Japan. Much like my own father’s early years, he too spent his humble childhood helping his father’s bicycle repair business with much intrigue.  A fascination with mechanics was stirred up during these formative years; as his understanding grew, forthwith sprung an unbridled passion for the motor engine in all regards. The boy would ask his grandfather to take him to watch the rice mill engine in a farm nearby for the simple pleasure of watching it in action. He often chased after cars in his neighbourhood, amazed by the power of their engines and the smell of hot fumes. Eventually he began to experiment with fashioning his own toys with materials and instruments found in his father’s workshop. And on one occasion much later on, he took one of his father’s bicycles to ride to the Wachiyama military airfield and climb a tree just to watch a biplane military demonstration. The love of all things mechanical drew him towards engineering; with drive, determination and focus, he grew to eventually forsake his formal education, move to downtown Tokyo and steadily become a respected mechanic. It was much later that this man experimented with a small engine-powered bicycle in an attempt to create a forward-thinking commuter vehicle. Together with his best friend, they created the first, humble 98 cc two-stroke motorcycle named “Dream”. Thus were the beginnings of the great empire of one man who dared to dream, named Sōichirō Honda.

Why is this story even relevant to us today?

Today in the world, there are societies in certain parts of the globe that jealously and deliberately seek to strangle the hope, joy and determination for success out of those who dare to dream. It is those societies which will reap the miserable shortcomings of such oppression. Without the boldness to experiment, the dreams of this next generation will never get off the ground. In every leap of faith there is an equal chance of failure and success, and there will always be the overwhelming notion that living by safe measures of practicality is the only safeguard for your life.

But to those whose only hope now, is to take the chance to be something you could only dream of becoming, I hold up before you Sōichirō Honda. Looking simply at just the facts, the odds were stacked against him in great numbers: at the time of Honda’s emergence it was 1946, the war had ended a year ago; the transportation industry was already at a level of previously unmatched maturity, smaller fish who had tried to break fresh into the market failed miserably, no new contenders were wanted. Looking at the climate and the facts before him, Sōichirō Honda had no good reason to try and open his company at a time like this, much less all by himself and with nothing but a dream. But this was the only moment he had. If he didn’t seize it, it would vanish from underneath him.

In this current climate of doom and gloom, I take great courage from this man and urge you to too.