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infinitemonkeytheory · 2 years ago

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The 2022 Shkreli Awards have been released! Each year, the Lown Institute passes out awards as a way of reporting on dysfunction in the US health care system. Dysfunction in healthcare is one of our foundational pillars here at Healthcare Triage, and these awards highlight some of the worst examples.

2022 Shkreli Awards

VIDEO: The 2022 Shkreli Awards, featuring guest hosts Dr. Uché Blackstock, CEO of Advancing Health Equity, and Amy Holden Jones, Executive Producer and Creator of Thre Resident.

JANUARY 10, 2023 — Welcome to the 6th annual Shkreli Awards, the Lown Institute’s top ten list of the worst examples of profiteering and dysfunction in healthcare, named for the infamous “pharma bro” Martin Shkreli.

Nominees for the Shkreli Awards are compiled by Lown Institute staff with input from readers of Lown Weekly. An esteemed panel of patient activists, clinicians, health policy experts, and journalists help determine the winners. (press release | previous winners)

#10

Dentist bags a bundle by breaking patients’ teeth

How did Wisconsin dentist Scott Charmoli go from fixing 434 crowns a year to more than 1,000? By purposely breaking patients’ teeth, according to federal prosecutors. Charmoli allegedly drilled into patients’ teeth unnecessarily and submitted photos of the damage to insurance companies to justify expensive procedures. This move elevated his salary by $1.1 million, according to the Washington Post. The scheme was uncovered when Charmoli sold his practice in 2019 and the new owners reviewed his files, noting the absurdly high rates of crown procedures. Charmoli was convicted of healthcare fraud and sentenced to 54 months imprisonment and over $1 million in fines.

SOURCE: Jonathan Edwards, The Washington Post; U.S. Attorney’s Office, Eastern District of Wisconsin

JUDGES’ COMMENTS:

Talk about supplier-induced demand! Oy, pass the laughing gas.

“Dangerous” doctor deemed a star by leadership despite disgraceful malpractice record

Image caption: A February 1999 advertisement for CMC’s New England Heart Institute in the Boston Globe, featuring Baribeau. Source: The Boston Globe

Leaders of Catholic Medical Center in Manchester, NH knew their renowned cardiac surgeon Dr. Yvon Baribeau had one of the worst malpractice records in the country. Yet they continued to support Baribeau, featuring him in hospital advertisements and allowing him to keep operating over the objections of other CMC doctors, the Boston Globe reported. Examples of Baribeau’s alleged harmful behavior include surgical errors that led one patient to require blood transfusions of nearly five times her blood volume, and keeping another patient whose chest cavity had turned “black and necrotic” on life support as a possible ploy to protect his surgical 30-day survival rate.

Throughout Baribeau’s career, he racked up 21 medical malpractice settlements, including 14 related to patient deaths. In a statement provided by his lawyer to the Globe, Baribeau said, “I performed over 10,000 procedures at CMC, always with patient safety as my first priority.”

SOURCE: Rebecca Ostriker, Deirdre Fernandes, Liz Kowalczyk, Jonathan Saltzman, and Patricia Wen, The Boston Globe

JUDGES’ COMMENTS:

The protection of doctors who are known to be dangerous is a national scourge that must be exposed and ended.

When a hospital administration puts “heads in beds” ahead of patient safety, it should be called to account—and not just by the media.

Medical labs bilk Medicare for $300 million in elaborate bribery scheme

Three laboratories in North Texas allegedly found a way to score $300 million in extra Medicare reimbursements, the Dallas Morning News reported. In collaboration with two marketing firms, they bribed physicians to order unnecessary drug tests and blood work, according to a federal indictment. Some physicians got as much as $400,000 in kickbacks. In one case, even a physician’s spouse got an illegal bonus. The founders of all three labs pleaded guilty to the fraud in April 2022.

SOURCE: Aria Jones, The Dallas Morning News

JUDGES’ COMMENTS:

Unnecessary tests and procedures are bankrupting us and harming patients. There is nowhere near enough coverage of this.

Unnecessary “care” is a huge part of the $1 trillion (that’s trillion-with-a-T) the US wastes in healthcare.

Patients qualified for financial assistance; hospital sends them to debt collection instead

Nonprofit hospitals are required to provide financial assistance to low-income patients. Providence health system, however, did the opposite in many cases. Rather than ensuring that low-income patients received the financial assistance they were due, Providence hounded them to pay and sent debt collectors after them when they didn’t, according to a New York Times investigation. These actions were part of an official campaign to boost revenue called “Rev-Up” developed with help from corporate consultant McKinsey. The “Rev-Up” campaign directed employees to tell patients about financial assistance only as a last resort. The result: more than 55,000 patients were pursued by debt collectors when they should have been given a discount.

In response, a Providence spokesperson told the Times that they stopped sending Medicaid patients to debt collection, and said that they will issue refunds to about 760 patients eligible for assistance who were previously charged for their medical care.

*Note: The Lown Institute provided data to the New York Times about Providence Health System’s tax exemption for this piece.

SOURCE: Jessica Silver-Greenberg and Katie Thomas, New York Times

JUDGES’ COMMENTS:

Large consulting companies like McKinsey are hospitals’ accomplices in revenue maximization.

Catholic hospitals have come a long way since the nuns of the Sisters of Providence provided services to the poor.

When smokers get sick, this tobacco company has the treatment

Philip Morris has spent 175 years selling products that cause heart disease, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), and other serious health problems. Now the tobacco giant is poised to make more money treating the very conditions it helped create by acquiring companies that develop inhaled therapeutics, according to a STAT News report.

Experts told STAT News they are concerned that Philip Morris could potentially use research on inhalation developed by these newly acquired companies to hook even more people on their products. But don’t worry��a representative from Philip Morris stated they have no plans to do so.

SOURCE: Olivia Goldhill, STAT News

JUDGES’ COMMENTS:

When your corporation creates both the problem and the solution to it, you clearly care about one thing: finding and making profits by any means possible.

In the 1980s, the hospital I worked in still used machinery made and branded by Philip Morris to treat lung-cancer patients. This is NOT a novel abuse— it must be stopped.

Pharma giant exploits bankruptcy loophole to avoid legal responsibility for cancer-causing product

Johnson & Johnson had known for decades that asbestos, a deadly carcinogen, could be contaminating their talc baby powder products but continued selling them anyway. Now J&J faces lawsuits from 40,000 cancer patients, many of them Black women, as J&J allegedly marketed its talc-based products specifically to this population. To avoid the lawsuits, J&J created a subsidiary company with all of the baby powder-related liabilities and then declared this shell company bankrupt, NPR reported. Despite this “bankruptcy,” J&J ranked in the top 50 of Fortune’s largest companies last year. The fate of J&J and the lawsuits await appeals. According to the J&J corporate attorney, the bankruptcy will benefit victims by producing a faster settlement.

SOURCE: Brian Mann, NPR; Casey Cep, The New Yorker

JUDGES’ COMMENTS:

Especially egregious because of delay in acknowledgement at the expense of patients

Big Pharma has become an evil conspiracy against public health.

Hospice CEO allegedly tells employees to hasten patient death to avoid caps on government reimbursements

Bradley Harris, the CEO of Novus Hospice in Frisco, Texas, and a dozen other Novus employees were sentenced to a combined 84 years in prison for committing healthcare fraud, according to D Magazine. The US Department of Justice reported that Novus staff were provided with pre-signed prescription pads and directed to dispense powerful medications like morphine and hydrocodone to patients, without guidance or oversight from physicians.

According to an earlier FBI investigation reported by NBC Dallas, Harris allegedly told employees to dose patients with more than the maximum allowed amount of painkillers to hasten patient death, with the goal of reducing the average patient stay to avoid caps on government reimbursement. The FBI investigation revealed that a Novus employee was allegedly sent a text message by Harris, “You need to make this patient go bye-bye.” It is unclear whether any patients were actually given overdoses or died from Harris’ instructions.

SOURCES: Will Maddox, D Magazine; US Department of Justice

JUDGES’ COMMENTS:

This behavior is abhorrent, cold and heartless

Individual and corporate greed, meet well intentioned yet perverse financial incentives.

System keeps community hospital on life support to cash in on drug discount program meant to serve the poor

Image caption: Richmond Community Hospital.

The 340B drug program provides safety net hospitals with deep discounts on medications to ensure access to care for low-income patients. Richmond Community Hospital in Virginia, owned by Bon Secours Health System, has profited heavily off of this program, yet they don’t have an intensive care unit, maternity ward, or even a consistently-working MRI machine. That’s because Bon Secours has been diverting the profits from Richmond Community to its other hospitals in wealthier, whiter neighborhoods, according to a New York Times investigation. “Bon Secours was basically laundering money through this poor hospital to its wealthy outposts,” said a former Richmond ER doctor.

A spokeswoman for Bon Secours Mercy Health told the Times the hospital system spent $10 million on improvements to Richmond Community Hospital over the past decade. But that doesn’t seem like much considering the $108 million expansion at neighboring St. Francis Hospital, a nearby Bon Secours hospital.

*Note: The Lown Institute provided data to the New York Times about Providence Health System’s tax exemption for this piece.

SOURCE: Katie Thomas and Jessica Silver-Greenberg, The New York Times

JUDGES’ COMMENTS:

Skimming profits from the poor is the sleaziest kind of theft.

Care facilities are thin on the ground in low-income areas nationally, which makes this story even more painful.

Private equity-backed firm runs rural hospitals into ground, leaves patients in unsafe conditions and employees without health insurance

When Noble Health, a private equity-backed startup, bought two rural hospitals in Missouri, residents hoped this might offer a lifeline to the struggling institutions. Instead, hospital employees faced shortages in supplies and drugs, leading to unsafe conditions for patients, Kaiser Health News reported. Noble Health also stopped paying for employees’ health insurance despite deducting money out of their paychecks that was supposed to be for premiums. Some staff members now face hundreds of thousands in medical bills because they did not know they were uninsured, according to Kaiser Health News. Noble Health closed the hospitals two years later, after taking $20 million in federal COVID relief funds. The company is currently under federal investigation.

SOURCE: Sarah Jane Tribble, Kaiser Health News

JUDGES’ COMMENTS:

Private equity too often puts profits over patients, and is using the proceeds to swallow up the US healthcare system.

Private equity corporations are one of the biggest threats to healthcare quality and justice.

Insurers systematically overbill Medicare Advantage, siphoning billions of taxpayer money

The majority of large Medicare Advantage insurers have been accused of fraud or overbilling by the US government, a New York Times investigation finds. Overpayments to Medicare Advantage insurers were estimated to cost taxpayers as much as $25 billion in 2020. Because the Medicare Advantage program pays private insurers a set amount per patient based on their risk, there is an incentive for insurers to “mine” patients for diagnoses—for example, adding diagnoses for old or resolved conditions.

While Mark Hamelburg, an executive at AHIP, an industry trade group, said to the Times that some coding differences were due to doctors “look[ing] at the same medical record in different ways,” some of the diagnoses were clearly inaccurate. In one case, insurer Independent Health added a diagnosis for prostate cancer to a woman’s record, because “when a married couple has any disease, both were assigned to that disease,” Bloomberg reported.

Among the top 10 Medicare Advantage providers by market share, the following have been accused of fraud or overbilling by the US government or Inspector General and have ongoing lawsuits as of 2022, according to the Times: UnitedHealth Group, CVS Health, Elevance Health, Kaiser Permanente, Blue Cross Blue Shield of Michigan, Cigna, and Highmark. These insurers have disputed the claims.

SOURCE: Reed Abelson and Margot Sanger-Katz, New York Times; John Tozzi, Bloomberg

JUDGES’ COMMENTS:

The overbilling of Medicare Advantage has become nothing but a big game that private insurers play. There are no rules, no morals, no sense of right or wrong.

The “advantage” in Medicare Advantage plans seems to go to the insurers who exploited Medicare for billions.

Weekly news for people who want a radically better health system

Judges for Shkreli Awards

Carole Allen, MD, MBA, FAAP

Immediate Past President

Massachusetts Medical Society (follow)

Special advisor to the president of the Lown Institute and lecturer at the George Washington University School of Public Health (follow)

Director of the Centre for Health Policy at University of Melbourne and senior fellow at the Lown Institute (follow)

Professor and chair emeritus at Duke University School of Medicine (follow)

Chair of the Lown Institute board of directors, former CEO of Denver Health

Assistant professor, NYU School of Medicine (follow)

Associate professor at Yale School of Public Health (follow)

Creator and showrunner,

“The Resident” (follow)

President of Physicians for a National Health Program and retired internist at Cook County Hospital (follow)

President of the Minority Health Institute, Clinical Professor of Medicine at UCLA School of Medicine, author of Blacks in Medicine (follow)

#healthcare fraud #shkreli awards #healthcare triage #Youtube

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rexisnotyourwriter · 4 years ago

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by @rexalexander and @postcardsanddaydreaming

After the Atlanta child murders, the Behavioral Science Unit is as busy as ever. With a new team member by their side, they take on what feels like a growing number of active serial killers as well as continue their interviews of already incarcerated subjects. Bill tries to track down Nancy and Brian with the hopes of repairing his marriage, while Wendy tries to take on a more active role in their research with an eager budding protégé at her side.

Read on AO3

Catch up: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

*If you enjoy this, please like/reblog on tumblr and/or leave kudos/comments on AO3. Your feedback helps keep fic writers writing.*

Notes: As always, thanks to my beta fish @hardythehermitcrab

Chapter 3: Could You Be The One

The bell rang. Her peers bolted from their desks and flooded the hallway, grabbing at their coats and bags, before running down the hall, towards the door. Towards freedom.

She waited, at least until there were only a few remaining children gathering their belongings, before getting up from her desk. The teacher gave her a smile, but it felt off somehow in a way she couldn’t quite place. She smiled back anyways.

By the time she reached the hall, her coat had been knocked to the floor. A partial footprint was left on the arm. She picked it up and brushed the dust off. The tread marks were still visible. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and went to the washroom.

The stall doors were all open. Empty. She lifted the sleeve of her coat near the sink and ran the tap slightly warm. Then, with a wet paper towel, she gently dabbed at the dirt until it was no longer visible. The sleeve was damp, but she reasoned she should be able to conceal that from her mother until it dried. She pressed a dry paper towel into it as best she could. It would have to do.

She stepped outside into the courtyard, arms crossed to hide her sleeve. Her mother was waiting in the car, ushering for her to hurry. She walked quickly to the car and got in.

“Finally,” her mother muttered. “I was able to switch my hair appointment to,” she looked at the time, “well, now. So, you’re going to have to come along.”

She said nothing, having no choice in the matter. It wasn’t exactly fun, but there were worse things. The dentist, for one. Her arms remained crossed for the remainder of the car ride. Every few minutes, she checked her sleeve. Each time, the dark patch of wet fabric was lighter and lighter.

Her mother turned into a different person as soon as they exited the car and went into the salon. Outside Mother. Outside Mother is attentive, always smiling (except when inappropriate), and does not raise her voice. Outside Mother also never smokes.

The salon was an onslaught of pastel from the pink cushioned chairs to the lime and cream colored walls. Outside Mother gave her name to the woman behind the front counter and apologized for her tardiness. She turned around.

“You can have a seat and do your homework while you wait, okay sweetheart?” Outside Mother told her in her sickly sweet voice.

The girl nodded and took a seat in one of the pink chairs. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as it looked. She inspected the magazines spread out on the coffee table.

How to make two outfits out of one.

She passed on that knowledge.

There were only a few other people in the salon. Three employees including the woman behind the counter, who couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. She looked like Ingrid Bergman - warm, soft. She glanced over at the girl and smiled. The girl returned the smile, but looked away quickly, embarrassed, but unsure why. There was a sadness behind the woman’s eyes, despite the smile. It was the same way she saw anger behind her mother’s. Fear behind her father’s. She wondered what people saw behind hers, if there was anything to see.

Outside Mother was settled in her chair, the large cone-like contraption hovering above her head, next to another woman. They each casually flipped through a magazine while chatting.

“So, how are Harold and the boys doing? Your eldest must be, what, twelve now?” Outside Mother asked.

“Almost. Johnny will be twelve next month and Simon turned nine in August.”

“Just a year older than our little angel.”

Outside Mother nods towards “her angel”. She could feel their gaze and didn’t look up to meet it.

“Harry got some exciting news recently,” the other woman said.

“Oh really?”

“It’s not public yet, but it’s as good as done. I’m not really supposed to talk about it though.”

Outside Mother gave her an understanding look.

“But -” the other woman continued, “if you can keep a secret.”

“Of course.”

“Well…”

Her voice went softer than could be heard from across the salon. The girl gave up on eavesdropping and took out her notebook and a pencil. She flipped past the pages of her homework to the last clean page of her book and began to draw.

The bell above the door chimed, announcing the entrance of another patron. Her fitted dark blue dress popped out among the soft pastel setting. She didn’t fit the scene, but it was the salon and everyone else in it that suddenly felt out of place in her presence. The woman at the counter acknowledged her. She appeared to be a regular. She turned around and took a seat next to the girl revealing a bold, deep red lip.

The girl continued her drawing. It was an open field with a few flowers. At the center stood a penguin. In the sky, far above the penguin, an assortment of birds were flying. She finished the final details of the wings, added a couple more flowers to the field, then swapped her pencil for her container of colored pencils. The woman in blue watched her as she pulled out a light green pencil and began shading the grass.

“Hmm,” the woman pondered out loud.

The girl paused her coloring briefly, then resumed without looking up.

“I thought penguins lived in the North Pole,” she mused.

“No,” the girl replied. “They live in Antarctica.”

“I see.”

The woman took off her white gloves, plucking the tip of each finger like petals from a daisy.

“Isn’t there snow in Antarctica?” she asked.

“Yes.”

The woman smiled. She was amused.

“This penguin is from Antarctica, but she’s not in Antarctica,” the girl explained.

“Ahh, okay. Why?”

The girl thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“I think she was taken from there when she was very little and doesn’t remember it. She just knows she’s from there and supposed to be there.”

“Couldn’t she go back?”

“No. She can’t fly. Penguins are flightless birds.”

The woman took in the drawing once more, understanding it a little better.

“Is that why she’s all alone?”

The girl didn’t reply. Instead, she switched her green pencil for a yellow one. She colored the insides of the flowers.

“Why don’t some of the other birds come down?”

The girl let out a noise, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

“They wouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because they can fly,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“Surely they don’t fly all the time. They must need to rest.”

“They do,” she confirmed. “But they never stay.”

“That must get lonely.”

The girl carefully filled in the penguin’s beak with her yellow pencil.

“It does.” She traded the yellow for a black. “She’s used to it.”

The young woman from the counter approached the woman in blue. They were ready for her. She gave one last look to the girl, who looked up this time.

Their eyes met.

They smiled at each other - a real smile, with nothing behind it.

The girl watched the woman in blue follow the hairdresser to her station.

She took out her regular pencil again and added to her picture.

——————————————————–

Wendy spent an inordinate amount of time over the past few weeks sorting through resumes and cover letters for the new secretary position in the BSU. There was more interest in the position than she (or Gunn, for that matter) had anticipated. She was able to get Gregg to help weed out some of the applicants, but he wasn’t as discerning in his decisions as she would’ve been, and found herself having to make further cuts to his “approvals”. The list was narrowed down to eight. Half of them were coming in later that afternoon for interviews, conducted by Wendy and Bill. The rest would be completed the following morning.

Bill sat hunched over a file, cigarette in hand, when Wendy knocked on his partially open door. He looked up at her with tired eyes.

“What are your thoughts?” she asked.

He stared at her, his brow furrowed.

“The applicants,” she clarified.

He let out a deep exhale.

“You haven’t looked at them yet, have you?” It was more of a statement than a question.

Bill shook his head in response to his own forgetfulness.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do that right now.”

“It’s alright. I have questions prepared. It’s more for your benefit.”

“Still.”

He shuffled the stacks of papers and files around his desk in search of the resumes Wendy had given him last week.

“I can make another copy of them,” she offered.

“No, no. I’ve got them here. Somewhere.”

She scanned his workspace, her eyes landing on a familiar looking folder in a tray.

Wendy cleared her throat. Bill looked up.

Her eyes flicked from Bill to the tray. He opened the folder, confirming its contents.

“I’m reading these right now.”

“Okay. Our first interview is at 1pm, so we should be in the meeting room by quarter to. Someone from HR will bring them down.” Wendy saw the look on Bill’s face and… “You forgot those were today.”

“Wendy - ”

“It’s okay, Bill. Really. Like I said, I’ve already reviewed the candidates and prepared questions for the interviews. You just have to show up.”

“I appreciate it, you know. All the work you do.”

She left him with an understanding nod and a polite smile.

Bill snuffed out his cigarette and immediately lit another one.

Holden walked quickly past Wendy, who politely acknowledged his presence, on his way to Bill’s office.

“Bill.”

He exhaled the long drag he just took of his cigarette.

“Yeah?”

“Gunn wants us to help out on those freeway killer cases in California. They found another body a few days ago in the San Bernardino Mountains. He wants us out there tomorrow morning.”

Bill groaned.

“What?” Holden asked.

“Wendy’s not going to be happy.”

“Why?”

“We have those interviews today and tomorrow for the new position.”

“The secretary? Do you really need to be there for those?”

“I’m head of this team, Holden, so yes, it would be good if I was involved in the hiring of a new member.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand. I can talk to her, if you want.”

Bill gave him a look that very clearly said no.

“Those freeway killings. The victims were drugged, raped, and beaten, right?” Bill asked.

“And bound.”

“Another BTK.”

“Not exactly, though. There are distinct differences between them.”

Bill looked at the folder under Holden’s arm.

“Is that -”

“Oh. Yes.”

Holden handed the folder to Bill. It was thick.

Wendy entered the meeting room at 12:45pm sharp with two glasses of water and the tape recorder under her arm. With Bill busy preparing for the last minute trip to California, they both figured it wouldn’t hurt to record the interviews.

Her notebook and list of questions were already on the table. She placed a glass of water at each side in front of the respective chairs, with the tape recorder on her side to the right. She popped open the recorder to double check that there was a blank tape inside. There was.

Wendy had done a fairly good job at screening the applicants. They were all (so far) more or less capable of doing the job, but each with their own weak points.

The first two candidates of the day were internal - both obscene stenographers, women about ten to fifteen years Wendy’s senior. Sandra was up first. She had passable answers to Wendy’s questions, but didn’t seem to fully understand what the BSU was or why it was important. Sharon, the second, was four minutes late and very rattled by it. It could’ve been coincidental, but someone who flusters easily was not the best fit.

The third was a young man named Peter. He was barely old enough to drink, but his resume was strong and he had work and volunteer experience. When asked about his comfort level with disturbing topics, his face went visibly white and clammy as Wendy listed off, in some detail, a few of the types of victims they deal with - those who have been dismembered, raped pre or post-mortem, mutilated, etc. She stopped before he got to the point of gagging and quickly wrapped up the interview.

The final candidate of the day was a much older man, at least sixty, if not older, named Thomas. He reminded Wendy of Gregg in twenty odd years. He was intelligent and experienced, but he had the same air of naivety as Gregg. That lingering aura of having been sheltered from the “evils” of the world as a child, or as they called it, a good Christian upbringing. Thomas was sweet and polite, but showed clear signs of not being able to keep up with the pace that the position would require.

At the end of the interview, Wendy thanked Thomas for his time and walked him to the elevator on her way to Bill’s office. His face was buried in his hand, his elbow resting on the desk.

She knocked softly. He revealed his face.

“I can come back if now’s not a good time.”

“No, now’s fine. I could use a break.”

“First round of interviews are done.”

“And?”

She waffled her head side to side.

“They weren’t bad. Not ideal in varying ways, but some are more...workable than others.”

“It’s a unique gig.”

“I think tomorrow will be better. There are two in particular that should be more promising. Frank Tyler, late 20s, some military experience, so he’s probably not squeamish. He has a degree in philosophy, so he’s educated -”

“And jobless.”

Wendy smirked.

“The other one is Ruth Cairns. She’s a bit young. But she has secretary experience and recently finished her degree in sociology.”

It was Bill’s turn to smirk. “The Boston girl.”

“So you did read the files I gave you.”

“No shame in rooting for one of your own,” he replied, still smiling.

“There’s no nepotism here,” she countered. It came out more defensively than she intended.

“She wasn’t one of your students?”

“No.”

He believed her. “Okay.”

“How’s the studying,” she asked.

Bill sighed.

“It’s a mess, honestly. They’ve gathered every case where a body was found near a highway thinking they must all be connected going back almost ten years. There’s dozens.”

“Better to have more to work from than less.”

He knew she was right. It didn’t make it any less work, though.

“Half of them don’t even remotely fit the MO. They’ve got women, gunshot victims. Some were disposed of in pieces in trash bags. Some appeared to have been thrown out of a moving car.”

Wendy processed the information.

“And the MO is based off of the most recent victims?”

“Starting in ‘79. An unidentified male, 20s, found his head, torso, and left leg in a couple of trash bags behind a gas station in Long Beach. He��d been sodomized with a sock. A couple weeks later, the body of Gregory Wallace Jolley, 20, was found at Lake Arrowhead, emasculated and with his head and legs severed.”

“Pre or post?”

“Post. A few months after that, the decapitated body of 19-year-old Mark Alan Marsh, a Marine, was found near Templin Highway. He was also missing his hands.”

“So, there is a definite pattern of young male victims, late puberty to early adulthood. All white?”

“Yup. Another 19-year-old Marine was found September of last year near the El Toro Marine air base, also in trash bags. Then four months ago, Michael Cluck, 17, was found on the side of Interstate 5 near Goshen, Oregon. Sodomized, beaten, kicked. Cause of death was thirty-one blows to the head with a blunt object. The back of his head was completely destroyed.”

He let out a long breath.

“I’m not even sure this latest one is part of it all.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked.

“Well, he wasn’t dismembered. We’ll know more of the details from the autopsy tomorrow, but they said they found tissue stuffed deep in his nose and rectum.”

“Could we maybe be dealing with a pair? Or perhaps even more than two killers, working together to some extent.”

“Maybe. If we are, they clearly have the same ‘type’.”

“Well, best of luck.”

“Thanks.”

Wendy lingered for a moment in the doorway. Bill could tell why, but all he offered her was a small smile. She nodded, understanding, and left. There was no word from Nancy.

Holden and Bill were relieved to find California not as unbearably hot as Georgia had been, but it still didn’t take long for their previously clean and crisp shirts to become nearly drenched in sweat.

They had studied the crime scene photos on the plane. Christopher Allen Williams, 17, had been missing his socks, shoes, and underwear. There was nothing that indicated any staging in the body placement, and lack of significant animal activity made it unlikely that it had been dragged from anywhere.

An officer was waiting for them when they got to the station. He was somewhere between Holden and Bill’s age with a moustache from the 70s.

“Agent Tench, Agent Ford.” He offered his hand to Bill first, then Holden. “Officer Eddie Zott. Thank you for coming out here.”

“Happy to help,” Bill replied.

“I’ve just got the autopsy report. Here, why don’t we -”

He led them down the air conditioned hall and into one of the empty interrogation rooms. It was not air-conditioned, but there was a single fan in the corner blowing warm air around the room.

Zott put the report on the desk and gave it a read, his lips mouthing along silently. Bill and Holden gave each other a side-eyed glance while they waited for the news.

Zott’s lips stopped moving, and his brow furrowed.

“Well?” Holden asked.

Zott looked up at their expectant faces and slid the report across the table.

“Cause of death was pneumonia induced by aspiration,” Zott explained.

“The tissue paper in his nose. He choked to death on his own mucus,” Holden added.

“And he had phenobarbital and benzodiazepine in his system,” Bill said.

Holden inspected the report for himself, looking particularly at the amount of benzodiazepine detected. It wasn’t an exceptionally high amount. More than what he had been prescribed, but not enough for an overdose. It was the combination of that with the phenobarbital that would cause more of the sedative effects.

“Do we know anything else about the victim?” Bill asked.

Zott smoothed out his moustache and cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” he started.

Bill and Holden waited.

“It, uh, “ Zott continued. “Well, when we were asking around about him, it came to light that he was, a...a working man, if you know what I mean.”

“You mean, he was a prostitute,” Holden confirmed.

Zott nodded.

“What about the other victims? Were any of them prostitutes?”

“Not that we know of. But we didn’t ask specifically about that. As I said, this just happened to come up.”

“See if you can find out,” Bill suggested. “It could be an important factor in finding a motive or pattern.”

Zott nodded, clearly not thrilled at the prospect of going down that rabbit hole.

“Yes, sir.”

Wendy once again prepared for the second day of interviews. The water, her questions, and the tape recorder were all set up with six minutes to spare.

Frank was up first, and he was brought down to the basement at exactly 10am. He wore a well-fitted ochre nailshead suit with a light pink tie that reminded her of something Bill would wear. His hair still had some semblance of a military cut, but grown out and groomed.

“Miss Carr,” he said.

“Dr. Carr,” she corrected.

“My apologies, Dr. Carr.”

She stood up to shake his hand and noticed a copy of Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche under his other arm.

“I always bring a book with me,” he explained. “I always give myself plenty of time to get places, which leads me with some free time, so.”

Wendy nods in acknowledgement.

“Have you read it?” he asked.

She smiled as they sat down.

“Yes, I have.”

Many times, in fact. But none for pleasure.

“It’s one of my favorites,” he beamed. “I’ve been taking German classes so I can read the original text.”

A real Nietzsche fanboy.

“Jenseits von Gut und Böse,” Wendy replied.

“Sorry?”

Clearly he needed more practice.

The rest of the interview went fairly well, the glaring issue being his devotion to philosophical concepts, and rather basic ones at that. It wasn’t exactly the worst thing, but she could already anticipate him interjecting into psychological conversations with philosophical “well, actually”s. He also made a point more than once to mention that he had no issues with the potentially graphic nature of the position, nor did he feel uncomfortable about the topic of twisted killings in general. In fact, he ended the interview by once again reasserting his comfort level.

Wendy looked at him with a small smile.

“‘He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster’,” she responded.

His eyes beamed at her like a love-struck puppy.

That’s when it hit her. He had reminded her of someone the whole time, but she couldn’t figure out who until he got that look in his eyes.

Holden. He reminded her of Holden.

She thanked him for his time and sent him on his way.

The interview had ended early - he was a fast talker - which gave her enough time to make a cup of coffee before the next candidate arrived.

Interviewing the candidates reminded her of when she was actually able to talk to the inmates for their study. She missed it. There was no way Gunn was going to let her do that again. At least not willingly. Maybe with more secretarial help at Quantico, Bill could convince him of her value in the field.

Her coffee break went by quicker than she thought, and she was soon interrupted by the arrival of the next candidate, Jenny Simms. Her application was unremarkable in the sense that nothing exceptional stood out, but she had all the basic requirements. She had secretary experience, was first aid certified, and volunteered at a homeless shelter since she was a teenager.

Jenny’s answers were all satisfactory. She had a calm demeanor, but was by no means fragile. She didn’t even bat an eye when Wendy described, in detail, some of the more graphic cases they had dealt with. Jenny took it one further and responded with an almost equally grotesque story of a man coming into the shelter with a gangrene leg that he tried to amputate himself with a pocket knife, heavily under the influence of multiple drugs. Plus she referred to her as Dr. Carr right off the bat. Wendy was pleasantly surprised, and marked her down as a front runner.

There was a larger break between interviews this time to account for lunch. She went upstairs to the cafeteria to grab her usual salad. A couple times, when she needed a break from the windowless basement, she stayed in the cafeteria to eat. On more than one occasion, she was approached in her solitude by a man, noticing the absence of a ring on her finger, asking if the seat across from her was taken. They would sit down before allowing her to answer. The daylight wasn’t worth the bother.

Back in her office, she kept a close eye on the clock as she ate her lunch. Today’s salad was half wilted spinach with almonds and blueberries and too much dressing. It was better than the bitter romaine they sometimes had that was drowned in what they called a caesar dressing, but tasted more like ranch with garlic powder. It hardly even qualified as a salad.

Wendy’s phone rang just as she was finishing her lunch. It was Bill.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d answer,” he said. “How’s round two going?”

“Better than yesterday.”

“Sounds hopeful.”

“There’s still two more to go, but I’ve already got a good idea of who I think would fit. I’ll let you listen to the interviews when you get back before I give you my thoughts.”

“Afraid you’ll influence my decision?”

“When have I ever been afraid of that? How’s California?”

“Hot. I’ll take it over Georgia, though.”

“And the case?”

“We thought we had an angle, but it didn’t pan out. The latest victim was a male prostitute, so we were thinking maybe that’s who he’s targeting. Local cops looked further into the other victims and it doesn’t appear that any of them were involved in that.”

“Hmmm. Were any of them suspected homosexuals? Even if they weren’t formally prostituting themselves, there could have been some form of covert sexual exchanges.”

“I can suggest that.”

Wendy heard the ding of the elevator from down the hall.

“I have to go,” she said. “You’re back tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Have a safe flight.”

She hung up the phone and quickly dabbed her mouth with a napkin. She poked her head out into the hall. It was empty. False alarm.

As she walked across to the interview room, a woman who she recognized from the HR department, but not the usual one who had been bringing candidates down, turned the corner at the end of the hall with another woman whom she assumed was Ruth Cairns.

“Oh, I think it must be this way,” the HR woman said. “I get so turned around down here.”

Wendy quickly snuck into the interview room. Thankfully, she had made sure to have it set up before her lunch break.

A moment later, the woman came in with Ruth. She was wearing a red plaid suit with a pleated skirt and double breasted blazer, her auburn hair pulled back in a neat, but loose, bun.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Carr,” she said, holding out her hand.

Wendy shook her hand.

“Please, have a seat.”

Ruth looked at Wendy as though she was about to say something. She sat down and closed her mouth, but her eyes still had that look.

Wendy tilted her head and looked back at her.

“Is something the matter?” she asked.

Once again, Ruth opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first.

“It’s just,” she started.

Wendy signalled for her to go on. Ruth brought a finger up to her mouth.

“You’ve got a little something in your teeth,” she said.

Wendy felt her face grow warm and hoped it wasn’t showing.

Fucking spinach.

She ran her tongue across the front of her teeth.

Ruth opened her purse and pulled out an ornate silver compact.

“Here,” she offered.

“Thank you.”

Their fingers brushed as Wendy took the compact from her. The soft, innocent touch only made her blush more.

She hid her face behind the compact. It wasn’t as red as it felt, thankfully. She had successfully dislodged the spinach, and gave the rest of her mouth and face a thorough look over before handing the compact back to Ruth, holding it in a way that ensured their fingers would not touch accidentally.

“I know some people don’t like it when you say something, but if it were me, I would want to know. Rather get it dealt with right away then find out later you had a whole conversation with someone like that,” Ruth explained.

Wendy nodded in agreement, despite still being somewhat embarrassed.

She jumped right into the questions to get herself back on track. Some of her answers felt rehearsed. Not wrong, but definitely planned. Others, she seemed surprised by, but answered them acceptably.

“Why do you want this position?” Wendy asked.

“Well,” Ruth started. Wendy could already tell this was one of her prepared answers. “I am hoping to earn money so that I can continue my studies in psychology at grad school. Ideally in Boston, of course. This really seems like the perfect position for me.”

“And what makes you perfect for this position?” Wendy countered.

Ruth looked puzzled by the question.

“I should’ve thought that was obvious,” she replied.

Wendy raised her eyebrows.

“I mean,” Ruth continued. “I have the education. I have the job experience. I spent my summers on my grandfather’s farm helping him slaughter pigs and chickens, so I’ve got a strong stomach.”

Ruth went silent. Wendy looked at her. Both of them waiting for the other to speak.

“And,” Ruth continued. She took a deep breath. “I lied on my application form.”

Wendy sat upright.

“Just about my address. I said I lived here, but I don’t. I’m staying at a hostel. But I’m willing to move here because that’s how much I want this job. That’s how much I wanted a chance at an opportunity to work here. With you.”

Wendy’s eyes narrowed. Did she know this woman?

“I never formally took one of your classes. I didn’t get into any of them while you were still there. But I...I snuck in the back just so I could listen.”

She’s flattered, and a bit in shock. She wasn’t aware her lectures were that high in demand, especially based on some of the lackluster students she’d had over the years.

“‘Time and tide wait for no man’,” Ruth quoted. “Or woman, as the case may be.”

Wendy smiled.

“And wouldn’t you want someone who could not only do the job, and do it well, but also who could take the knowledge they’ve learned and apply it? Can you honestly say any of the other applicants would use this experience to further the work you’re doing even after they’ve left?”

They looked at each other - Wendy still smiling, Ruth worried that she’d blown it.

“You make a good case,” Wendy admitted.

She stood up. Ruth waited a moment before doing the same.

Wendy held out her hand.

“We’ll be in touch.”

Ruth shook her hand and gave her a sad smile, her eyes not meeting Wendy’s. Wendy gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and Ruth looked up to a reassuring smile.

#mindhunteredit #mindhunter fic #mindhunter #op*#a tide in a city #wendy carr #bill tench #holden ford

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jgroffdaily · 5 years ago

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[This article appears in the September 16, 2019, issue of New York Magazine.]

Within minutes of my meeting Jonathan Groff, he asks if I would like a slice of cherry pie, and then, only a short time later, if I would like to be eaten by a giant plant. The first I readily accept because Groff and the rest of the cast of Little Shop of Horrors have thoroughly analyzed the desserts they picked up for a bus ride down from New York to the suburban Philadelphia puppet studio where they’re rehearsing for the day, and they’ve all concluded it’s the best option. The idea of being eaten by a plant seems a little less palatable, considering the contortions involved in entering the hippopotamus-esque maw of the man-eating Audrey II, which is operated by several puppeteers, and because I’m not sure if Groff is making a serious offer. I learn quickly that he is always offering you things, and those offers are always serious.

The puppet in question represents the largest form of Audrey II, a sassy carnivorous horticultural oddity that convinces Seymour, an awkward flower-shop assistant, to commit murder in the pursuit of fame, fortune, and a suburban life with the original Audrey, a human who works with him. The day I visit, Groff, playing the misfit Seymour (despite good looks that actor Christian Borle, who plays the maniacal dentist, Orin, describes as “scrumptious”), and his castmates are climbing inside Audrey II one by one, figuring out how each of them will die. Wearing a hat from Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s “On the Run II” tour, Groff jumps inside wielding a floppy machete, which is so un-aerodynamic it keeps getting stuck in Audrey II’s lips. Groff suggests a real machete prop would be sturdier, and they try substituting an umbrella, which flies out more cleanly. Michael Mayer, the director, says with satisfaction, “It’s a belch!”

Staging this revival of Little Shop is “illegal fun,” as Groff puts it. The original ran from 1982 to 1987 but never transferred to Broadway, at the insistence of writer-lyricist Howard Ashman, who wanted to preserve the show’s off-kilter spirit in a smaller space. Ashman and composer Alan Menken would go on to fill the Disney Renaissance — which consisted of films like The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast — with the Marie’s Crisis–ready melodies and queer subversions you can already hear in Little Shop (Ashman died of aids-related complications in 1991). Despite a Broadway staging that kicked off in 2003, this version is staying put at the Westside Theatre Off Broadway in hopes of preserving the quirky spirit of the original. There’s a lot of laughter in rehearsal as well as dress codes like a “kimono Wednesday,” which Mayer enforces by handing me a spare kimono when I drop in that day.

I can’t imagine anyone who is consistently involved in or adjacent to homicide having a better time. In addition to playing a murderously nice guy in Little Shop, Groff stars in Netflix’s David Fincher–produced drama Mindhunter, playing an FBI agent who interviews serial killers; the show is based on the real work of John Douglas, who was one of the first criminal profilers. Considering he’s no big fan of true crime, Groff is somewhat confused about how he became a poster boy for gore and mutilation, though he’s enjoying the texts from friends who point out that even when he does musical comedy, there’s a dark edge involved. A few days after we meet in Philadelphia, we’re talking over breakfast at the cozy Grey Dog in Chelsea, where he insists on paying for everything, picking up all the water and utensils, and getting up from the table to refill my coffee cup when it’s empty.

Groff signed up to star in Little Shop this spring after careful consideration, by which I mean he got the offer and then listened to the original cast recording on repeat for a whole weekend. He’d never played Seymour before, unlike the majority of white male theater actors, but he had positive memories of seeing the first performance of the 2003 Broadway version just after high school, when he was rehearsing the role of Rolf in a non-Equity tour of The Sound of Music. “I wanted to make sure that I’m bleeding for it eight times a week,” he says, which is his measure for doing musicals; he wants to make sure he won’t get bored with the material. Even now, when I assume he might want a break from it during rehearsals, Groff still has the album on repeat. “I never went to college, and I’m not educated, really, so I couldn’t say, like, intellectually why that is,” he says. “When I listened to it, it shot through my heart.”

There’s a clue, however, in the way he remembers obsessing over the film version of the show as a seventh-grader, standing in his kitchen with the song “Skid Row” on repeat — specifically when Seymour sings, “Someone show me a way to get outta here.” It was an appealing message to a closeted kid whom Groff describes as just “a sweaty, uncomfortable person with a secret that was so deep-rooted I wasn’t even flirting with the idea of being myself.” With a little distance from that version of himself (the child of a phys-ed teacher and a horse trainer, growing up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and occasionally having to clean stables on the weekends), Groff recalls the kinds of tells that seem obvious in retrospect, like, say, listening to “Skid Row” on repeat. Or developing an obsession with I Love Lucy, which he still watches before going to bed. Or dancing along to the Donna Reed’s Dinner Party album when his parents weren’t home. There’s a similar longing in Little Shop, which has the queerest kind of perspective on its central couple, as Audrey and Seymour imagine an unreachable, heteronormative life away from skid row and where she looks “like Donna Reed.”

If there’s a murderous kinship between Little Shop and Mindhunter, it extends to the shows’ shared skepticism about that white-picket-fence-style normalcy. Holden, Groff’s profiler character, is a cardboard cutout of a man with a girlfriend who introduces him to 1970s-style sexual liberation, but he is ultimately more fascinated with the deviancy of the killers he’s interviewing. To play him, Groff shuts down his charisma, amassing such emptiness between his angular jaw and his eyebrows that you wonder if he’ll slip into deviancy himself. It’s a performance of square, even sinister straightness that feels close to the best-little-boy performances of closeted queer men, though what seems to thrill Holden most in the show are his interviews with killers. “Sexuality is so complicated, and the people I’ve ended up working with who have cast me in straight parts are interested in looking at things in a complicated way,” Groff says, noting that he feels the argument about whether gay actors can play straight, or vice versa, has gotten “sillier” as time goes on. “Being out and gay and being myself, it allowed me to find people that weren’t closed-minded.”

Groff came out when he was 23, without directly consulting his agent, after he’d become an idol to the nation’s theater teens of Facebook by starring as the sexy, rebellious, tousle-haired Melchior in Spring Awakening. “I was so compartmentalized,” he says, “singing about sex but then not talking about it.” He remains thankful for the way Mayer, who also directed that show, choreographed the explicit sex between himself and Lea Michele’s Wendla clinically, without asking them about their own experiences. He hadn’t spent too much time worrying about the aftereffects of coming out on his career, which were more limiting in 2009 than they are now. “I did think I might not be seen as a romantic lead, but ultimately I was okay with that,” he says, explaining that he was in love at the time and didn’t want to hide it. “At 23, I’d rather just have a real romantic relationship than pretend to have one with a girl.”

Several years after coming out, Groff booked a leading role in HBO’s Looking, a comedy-drama about gay men in San Francisco, which he calls one of the most fulfilling roles he’s had. The series ran for two seasons and got a wrap-up movie but never quite found a viewership, even among queer audiences, instead receiving, as he puts it, “a total mixed bag of very extreme reactions.” Some of that was because people just didn’t like the show — which was often slower, more interior, and whiter and fitter than people may have wanted — and some of it was because it was “carrying a lot of weight; there wasn’t a lot of specifically gay content on a major cable network.” To Groff, making the show opened him up to the possibility of using material from his own experience in his work. Among the cast and crew, “we would talk about stories about PrEP and uncut dicks and monogamy,” he recalls, among “so many stories about anal douching,” and those anecdotes would make their way into the scripts. He was used to a sort of “closeted training of the mind” to abstract himself from his own experience. Looking taught him he could use it.

Recently, Groff has developed an ability to end up near the center of cultural sensations. He stepped in for Brian d’Arcy James as Hamilton’s fey Britpop version of King George III midway through the show’s Off Broadway run. It was a somewhat ideal gig, given that he was onstage for only about nine minutes a night, performed crowd-pleasing kiss-off songs, met Beyoncé, earned a Tony nomination, and got a lot of reading done backstage. This fall, he’s in Disney’s sequel to Frozen, where he returns to play Princess Anna’s rugged (at a Disney-appropriate level) love interest, Kristoff. In the first movie, while Idina Menzel’s Elsa got the vocal-cord shattering “Let It Go,” Groff sang only a few lines of melody between Kristoff and his reindeer, Sven. This time around, he’s putting his Broadway training to use with a full-length solo. It’s the second one he recorded for the movie, since the writers had one idea for a Kristoff piece (“a jam”) but then canned that song while promising Groff they’d write something different, which he didn’t quite believe. “Then they fucking wrote that other song,” he says, characteristically effusive. “I was like, Wow, and the animation of the song is so brilliant.”

As personable as Groff is and as successful as he has become — and as beloved, especially among theater fans and people like my mother — there’s a point at which he maintains a certain distance, in what feels like a way to stem his own impulses. He doesn’t use any social media, though he did consider it when Looking was struggling, before he realized “I’d have to be good at it and want to do it, and I don’t.” He has never thrown himself a birthday party, because the impulse to make sure everyone’s having a good time would stress him out too much. In behavior that reminds me of both a secret agent and Kim Kardashian, he regularly goes through and deletes all his texts after responding to each of them. “I want to make sure I get back to everyone,” he says, holding his iPhone up in front of me to reveal the remarkably few surviving messages.

Before Groff gets up to leave breakfast and travel to rehearsal by way of the single-speed bicycle he rides around Manhattan, we end up talking about the larger trajectory of his career. Considering that he’s scaling down for a revival run of a musical Off Broadway, was he ever the kind of actor who thought of his work as building up to something? A big film? A franchise? “I think I gave that up when I came out of the closet,” he says. “I gave up the idea that there was an end goal or ideal or some kind of dream to work toward.” An image appears in my mind of the life Audrey sings about in Little Shop, a place that’s comfortable, traditional, and expected, somewhere that’s green. “When I moved to New York, what I wanted was to be on Broadway. That happened and then I came out, and it’s sort of been anybody’s guess since then,” Groff says. “I like when something makes me cry or I can’t stop listening to it. Okay, I want to do that.”

Little Shop of Horrors is in previews and opens October 17 at Westside Theatre Upstairs. Buy tickets here.

#jonathan groff #interview

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cmvarma · 2 years ago

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Teeth Hospital Near Me

I've seen a lot of unbearably white teeth lately. A colleague with dazzling white fangs also tightened his forehead. He is a wax figure of the man I once knew - teeth hospital near me.

"You haven't changed at all," I said, but thought, "Man, you've changed."

Talking Heads' Seen and Not Seen from 1980 is a story about people changing faces. It became my dystopian stoner song when I was 18, but it sounds more real now.

The dazzling helicopter once seen only by Hollywood actors has been democratized. Botox, fillers, and whiter teeth are affordable (at least for those who can).

Mechanics and their partners, accountants, auto salesmen, mortgage brokers and retail workers are all now showing off super white, often with a look of perpetual surprise.

I drink coffee, not baby milk coffee or oat milk coffee. The real stuff: espresso, macchiato, and "Greek" coffee (okay, Byzantine, government dental hospital so we won't insult our Turkish and Lebanese cousins). However, I am very concerned about my teeth.

I floss my teeth after meals and then use an electric toothbrush. I went to the only legally recognized abuser dentist for a cleanup. Why am I under pressure to have my teeth as white as my real estate agent?

Professor Alexander Holden from the Sydney Dental Hospital and Oral Health Service wrote a paper in 2020, "Consumed by prestige: the mouth, consumerism, and the dental profession".

"The smile as a symbol of status and prestige makes teeth an object and product that can be bought and sold," he begins.

I drink coffee, not baby milk coffee or oat milk coffee. The real stuff: espresso, macchiato, and "Greek" coffee (okay, Byzantine, so we won't insult our Turkish and Lebanese cousins). However, I am very worried about my teeth.

Professor Alexander Holden from the Sydney Dental Hospital and Oral Health Service wrote a paper in 2020, Consumed by Prestige: Oral cavity, consumerism and the dental profession.

I presented my thesis to Professor Holden that whitening is cheaper now and it's a status symbol.

"Of course, teeth whitening is more accessible than ever, and whitening kits are now ubiquitous at chemists and elsewhere on the high street," he told me.

"Healthy teeth indicate youth and health; however, it is clear that someone has had their teeth done when they don't match their age."

What he means is that if one's teeth belonged to a bleached marble Greek statue, rather than the ever-young Hermes, they would look a little rude. just say.

"Over time and with age, as teeth yellow, enamel wear helps the underlying yellow dentin appear more prominent," Professor Holden said.

I come from a generation that enjoyed free dental care in elementary school. Even as children of poorer immigrants, we were able to afford braces and avoided the buck teeth of our much poorer accomplices of the past - braces cost in areadental.

For that, I am grateful. Healthy teeth are vital to social, physical and mental health.

But dental care shouldn't be a futile pursuit of a long-gone youth. People, you know who you are and need to stop going overboard.

#teeth hospital near me #government dental hospital #braces cost in areadental #hospital dental #govt dental hospital area dental #near dental hospital

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khananifamilydental · 4 months ago

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Brighten Your Smile with Stunning Veneers in Holden, MA!

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pcttrailsidereader · 6 years ago

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What Was I Most Scared Of When Hiking the PCT?

From the beginning of our efforts to collect stories for the Pacific Crest Trailside Reader books, Corey and I quickly learned just how rare hikers were who also worked at the craft of writing. That was a decade ago. In the seven years of curating this website since the anthologies were published, that perception has not changed. So it refreshing to discover hiker/writers like Kathleen Neves. Over the next half year, we will periodically publish more of Kathleen’s writing. In the meantime, do not hesitate to check out Kathleen’s website: http://www.kathleenlovesyoga.com/

By Kathleen Neves

Since being home from thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, people have asked me all kinds of questions about my trip. The one question that keeps getting asked over and over is, “What was I most scared of when hiking the PCT?” Most people think my answer would be animals or creepy people on trail. Nope. Some have even guessed it would be weather. Nope again. Surprisingly all three of these were the least of my concerns on trail.

I was fortunate enough to not come across any creepy people on trail. In fact, I met the most friendly, generous and amazing people on the PCT. Nowhere else in my life have I ever met so many people who genuinely wanted to help others without expecting anything in return. This ranged from fellow hikers to trail angels and complete strangers I met along my way up to Canada. Thanks to my experiences on trail, my faith in humanity has been restored. I now know there are plenty of kind people still out in the world.

I didn’t have a whole lot of encounters with wildlife other than a bunch of friendly deer, swarms of bees in Northern California, several mosquitos in the Sierra and a couple of baby skunks, the occasional snake and tons of lizards in the desert. The only bear I saw on trail was when I was on my way into Chester, California when I saw its butt scurry down the trail as I rounded a corner while singing at the top of my lungs.

I lucked out with weather for the most part on trail. It rained on our way into Julian, down in Southern California. By the time we got back to the trail from Julian, the sun and warm weather had come back. There was one scary thunder and lightning storm Grit and I hiked through on our way into South Lake Tahoe. In Washington, from Trout Lake to Holden Valley, Grit and I hiked through several days (and miles) of fog, rain and even some snow, but nothing too crazy. Nothing we couldn’t handle.

When I first started my hike on the PCT, I thought my biggest fear of being on trail would be having to camp by myself because I’d never slept outside by myself before. On my first night on the PCT, I camped with 10 to 14 other thru-hikers at Hauser Creek. It was here where I met my Team Lagger trail family. For the next 700 miles, I didn’t have to spend a single night by myself. It wasn’t until Day 58 when I went into the High Sierra by myself when I finally faced that big fear of mine and camped alone for the first time.

In all honesty, sleeping outside by myself wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. The first night in the High Sierra was hard, but that’s only because I was heartbroken about having to say goodbye to my Team Lagger trail family. All night long, I kept thinking everyone’s tents were just outside of mine – KitKat and Amish, Punchline and Bleeder. Anytime I wanted to yell out something to one of them, I remembered no one was there to answer back. I cried multiple times that night in my tent. Since no one else was camping near me, I wasn’t afraid to cry loudly either.

In the High Sierra, I spent most nights camping by myself, all the way to Red’s Meadow. In Red’s Meadow, I was reunited with Grit again. From Red’s Meadow to Burney, we camped together on most nights. From Burney to Mount Shasta, I hiked solo while Grit stayed back in Burney, waiting to see a dentist. It was during this section when solo camping became less of a fear and more of a choice. I’d see plenty of hiker friends during the day on trail. At night, I’d purposely choose tentsites at the top of big climbs, on ridgelines or on mountain tops with epic views. Everyone seemed to spread out at night and do their own thing. I loved it when I’d have a tentsite all to myself – just me, my tent, the bees, the mosquitoes and the sunsets/sunrises. It’s funny how the one thing I was sure would terrify me turned out to be something I really enjoyed doing.

The thing I was most scared of when hiking the PCT was a fear I never knew I had. My biggest fear of hiking the PCT? Fording rivers and creeks. Before hiking the PCT, I’d never forded a river or creek. Never in my life had I ever needed to walk across a raging river to get to the other side without there being a somewhat safe way to get across. There had always been either a bridge to cross or stones large enough to walk over to get safely to the other side. What made fording rivers and creeks even more scary was every time I came up to one, there never seemed to be anyone else around. Where were all of the other hikers?

The first time I had to ford a creek was at Rae Lakes, just after Glenn Pass in the High Sierra. I hiked along the trail, all the way to where the trail ended, which was at the creek. I could clearly see the trail continuing on the other side, but there was now a body of water standing between it and my dry shoes. I looked around to see if there was a log bridge or another way to get across without having to get my feet in the water. I couldn’t find anything. Since my camp shoes were flimsy, slip-on sandals, my choices to get across the water were to either do it barefoot or get my shoes and socks wet. I took a deep breath, braced myself for the cold water and walked across the water with my shoes and socks on. The water wasn’t all that deep, but it was cold. At least my feet would be cleaned off for the evening. That was always the bonus of getting my feet wet at a water crossing.

The next time I had to ford a creek was much tougher than the first time I’d done it. This time, the trail had led me to a raging river, the South Fork Kings River. I walked all the way to the end of the trail and could see the trail starting up again on the other side. Roaring rapids stood between me and the other side of the trail. Of course, I was the only person around. I could’ve sat there and waited for another hiker to come by, but who knew when that would be? I’d have to suck it up and face this fear on my own.

As I got closer to the water, I took a look around. From where I was standing, the river looked pretty deep and the rapids were raging. Not exactly the safest place to cross. As I scanned the area, I could hear my friend, Katie’s voice in my head telling me what to do. Her voice reminded me that I didn’t have to cross the river right where the trail ended. She told me to go upstream and look for a calmer, shallower spot.

I walked upstream a bit until I found a spot I felt comfortable crossing. It was much calmer and there were hardly any rapids going through the area. From what I could see, it didn’t look all that deep either. Just like the first crossing, I decided to keep my shoes and socks on. I stuck my trekking poles in the water first and then allowed my feet to follow. One by one, I slowly stepped one foot in front of the other as I felt around the ground with my trekking poles, trying to gauge the depth of the water as I went. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. To help keep my anxiety at bay, I started talking out loud to myself, telling myself exactly what I was going to do next: “Step. Okay, you got this. Easy does it. Slow. Okay step. Slippery rock, okay maybe not there. Try another step. Easy. Slow.”

Towards the middle of the crossing, the water came up to my knees. I could feel the current of the water pushing against my legs and feet. Some rocks were more slippery than others. A couple of times, I could feel my feet starting to slip out from underneath me. I did my best not to panic. I kept talking myself through the situation and took it slow, one careful step at a time. Once I made it safely to the other side, I couldn’t help but turn back around towards the river and yell, “Not today!” I had just forded my first big river safely and had done it all on my own. I felt pretty accomplished.

Fording a river or creek never seemed to get easier though, no matter how many times I had to do it. I was scared every single time. I always seemed to be alone whenever I’d have to do it, which made the whole situation even scarier. After doing a few of these, I learned how to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. I came up with a system based on the things I had learned at previous crossings. I’d always scan the area for the safest spot to cross. Before getting in the water, I’d take a big breath to calm myself down. Once I was in the water, I made sure I was never in a hurry and took my time getting across.

A couple of times I got blisters on my feet from having to hike in wet socks and shoes after fording a river. I learned the best way to keep my socks and feet dry was to take my socks off and the insoles of my shoes out before getting in the water. This way, only my shoes would get wet. By the time I got to the other side, I could wipe my feet dry with a towel and would have dry insoles and socks to put back on and hike in. Since I hiked in my trail runners, my shoes would dry completely within a couple hours of being out of the water.

There were a couple times I forded a creek barefoot. Not a good idea! Not only did it hurt my feet, but I slipped a fair amount of times on wobbly, slippery rocks. I felt much safer and more stable with having the traction of my shoes underneath my feet instead of bare feet.

Another thing I learned was to move things in my pack I didn’t want to get wet, up to the top of my pack. For example, I usually kept my GoPro, wallet and cell phone in the hip pocket of my pack. At a river crossing, I’d move these items up to the very top of my pack instead. This way, if the water was deep enough and reached my hips or if I slipped and fell in the water, these items would most likely not get wet because they’d be further from the water.

Also, on big water crossings, I learned to unbuckle my pack before getting in the water. This way if I slipped and fell in the water or was swept in by a rapid, I could easily release myself from my pack and prevent myself from drowning.

Before hiking the PCT, I had no idea fording a river or creek would be such a huge fear of mine. Probably because up until this point in my life, I’d never been in a situation where I had to do anything like this before. My fear of fording rivers and creeks made my fear of sleeping outside by myself seem so silly. The High Sierra section of the PCT was really good about not only showing me how strong of a person I am, but forcing me to face fears I never knew I had.

#water crossings #fear #weather #animals #people #hiking alone #Reds Meadows #Rae Lakes #Glen Pass

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tigerellasims · 7 years ago

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asks :-)

sorry i haven’t been as active with answering asks! my boyfriend is here soo.. i haven’t been on tumblr much!

Anonymous said:

God maya and caleb are cute but Zelda and Holden are better in my opinon 😍

they’re my otp honestly

Anonymous said:

How many followers do you have rn? 💛

1033 :-) way more than i deserve!

Anonymous said:

When do we get to see Holden meeting Caleb, the kids or Zelda’s parents? I’m excited!!!! HOLDEN WE - I - LOVE YOU!

we’ll see some of that soon!

Anonymous said:

i forgot the kids were at their grandparents and freaked out for a second bc i thought they were at home alone

haha nooo. they’re staying with aurora and zeke for now!

Anonymous said:

no your editing tutorial now!

ohh, well most of it is reshade honestly and then i just use an action over the top, and some topaz clean

Anonymous said:

I’m the anxiety nonny about school and the soccer boys. It’s freezing cold and yesterday, I tripped while walking to the bus and got a scab across my chin. I also started my pd but, do not fear! I’ve got a medical certificate to get me out of hpe for rest of term. Except. My teacher may or may not have seen me running to get the ball back in rugby kicking training lesson thingy. So, I’m scared. Also got dentist and may have to get 2 teeth pulled and I’ve never had a tooth pulled! Sorry, bye!

ahh bby i’m sorry sending you big hugs from me! also i’ve had a tooth pulled before and it’s not bad at all just a lil bit sore afterwards :-)

@authentic-glitter-trash said:

Holden booty 💦😏👀👀

..i know. it’s everything i’ve ever wanted

@pxlcreek said:

What If Holden has ran out of "protection" and the amount of banging they are doing i'm surprised the thing hasn't ripped, XD

what “thing”? this message confuses me

Anonymous said:

Have you ever thought about writing a book? Your writing is so amazing I really think you could..if you wanted to and had the time of course

honestly i don’t even know if i could! like writing dialogue is wayy different to writing a book haha. but ty for the compliment bby <3

Anonymous said:

Plz we need more gen 2

you’ll get it!

#asks #pxlcreek #authentic-glitter-trash

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cars4starters · 7 years ago

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Equinox better than trip to the dentist

Untitled #cars4start

What is it?

I had about as much interest in driving the new Holden Equinox as going to the dentist.

But then a funny thing happened — I liked it.

In fact, I liked it a lot.

The Chevy Equinox — I have a hard time substituting Holden for Chevy — is a mid-sized SUV that replaces the five-seat Captiva in the Holden lineup.

It’s sleek, sits relatively low, and is easy to get in and out of, as well as…

View On WordPress

#cars #cars4start #Equinox #Holden

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meximominva · 4 years ago

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Personal view on Social Media

Social Media and Business

Get out of the way everyone, social media is taking over! While social media was designed for personal communication between users, it has evolved into a platform where different users are taking advantage of social media. These different users are organizations of all sorts; retail stores, dentists’ offices, churches, doctors’ offices, pet stores, etc. So many different entities are using social media as a platform to advertise what they do, and it is amazing! However, there is a different manner at which these users should approach social media, professionalism is key. Holden (2016) tells us that even when it is acceptable for businesses to have a social media page, they should proceed under a framework of professional, legal, and ethical guidelines. This behavior is known as e-professionalism. Holden (2016) also tells us defines e‐professionalism to be “the attitudes and behaviors that reflect traditional professionalism paradigms but are manifested through digital media” (p. 1). In my personal experience, using social media to get a message out to the public works well. I am on my church’s social media team and spreading church messages, biblical passages, and even sermon recaps have helped our church reach people that we could not reach before.

Social Media and Personal Use

On a personal note, social media has both its positive and negative aspects. People share as they will and sometimes, they share their negative energy. On the positive side, social media helps you form connections. I was able to connect with family in Mexico, that I never really met in person. I was able to share family stories with them and they shared things with me that I never knew about our family, honestly this would never had happened if it was not for social media. Whiting and Williams (2013) tell us that the ten major reason why people use social media are “social interaction, information seeking, pass time, entertainment, relaxation, communicatory utility, convenience utility, expression of opinion, information sharing, and surveillance/knowledge about others” (p. 3). When used personally, social media turns into a sharing frenzy.

Society and Social Media

Social media is used for both personal and professional purposes and sometimes both at the same time, but it is important to separate these forms of communication. If you own a business, you should separate your personal and professional page. Advice Media (n.d) tells us that a business page is used to showcase the service it provides while a personal page represents the views of a single viewer. Advice Media (n.d) also tells us that a “it is against Facebook’s policy to use a Personal page for business” (p. 2). While it is okay for a business owner to have a personal page, they can not interlap.

Now, lets take the information mentioned above and analyze how it has affected society. Society now turns to social media for their information. Potential employers are looking at personal pages to decide whether they should hire someone, and users are checking business pages for reviews before deciding if they will utilize their services. Others check their spouse’s social media pages to make sure they are being faithful. Social media is one of the first places people go to for opinions, news, and entertainment, and for some, the only place they go to.

#universityofphoenix socialmedia personalassignment

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thisdaynews · 5 years ago

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Super Bowl 2020: The NFL Academy & its first students on new path to US game

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/super-bowl-2020-the-nfl-academy-its-first-students-on-new-path-to-us-game/

Super Bowl 2020: The NFL Academy & its first students on new path to US game

The first intake of students started at the academy in September

It’s 5am and an alarm clock goes off in Milton Keynes. Fraser Holden has to get up and out in time to catch the 05:53 to London Euston.

From there he takes the tube to Southgate, north London, and is down to work by 7.30am. He might not leave until five in the afternoon.

Unlike the other commuters, Fraser travels kitted out in sportswear. He’s 16 and is going to college to learn how to play American football. Today. the aspiring linebacker will meet Jerry Rice, one of the greatest players of all time.

Yet this is not a one-off, it’s a regular day at the NFL Academy. Backed by the NFL, Nike and some superstar mentors, the programme is the first of its kind in Britain.

The aim? To transform the perception of American football in the UK and Europe.

The NFL said nothing until a surprise social media campaign announced the details last May. Within two weeks, over 1,500 had applied for the 90 places on offer.

In September, the first intake started at Barnet & Southgate College. Here, 16-to-18-year-olds study for regular qualifications alongside elite American football training.

Fraser was one of those who applied. He grew up playing rugby but had started playing small-sided American football games too. He was lured by the ‘We Can, We Do’ campaign, aimed at British youngsters dreaming of following Efe Obada and Jay Ajayi into the NFL.

The first try-outs were held in June. Cleveland Browns’ wide receiver Odell Beckham Jr was there – as well as BBC pundits Osi Umenyiora and Jason Bell.

From the outset, the message was clear. Academy hopefuls would be judged on their attitude and character as much as their athletic ability. And the programme would be very demanding.

Jerry Rice is widely regarded as the greatest wide receiver in NFL history

“It’s dedication, it’s commitment,” says Will Bryce, NFL UK’s head of player development. “It’s prioritising studying, managing your time, getting to bed early, getting off social media when you don’t need to be on it. It gives the kids structure, they’re part of a team, plus there are some pretty cool opportunities too.”

Selfies with OBJ was just the start. After the try-outs, 150 hopefuls were called back to a stadium showcase in the first NFL event at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium in July. There they met Obada himself and did drills with Pittsburgh Steelers receiver Juju Smith-Schuster.

Fraser was among the 90 eventually accepted. He admits the first few weeks of the programme were “a big shake-up – especially after going to school five minutes away”. Now he is proud to wear his NFL-branded kit, to be one of those who stands out on campus.

In pride of place is the academy gym, which was converted from the college’s theatre and now features NFL branding inside and out. Jerry Rice came for the official opening.

The 57-year-old, who won three Super Bowls with the San Francisco 49ers, tells students that at their age he was a “diamond in the rough”, that he never thought he would play professional football, that he wasn’t the greatest athlete and didn’t have the best skills but refused to let anybody “out-work him”.

The legendary receiver speaks with the ‘inspiration wall’ as backdrop. It features quotes from NFL players, each one almost always featuring the same word – work. Three more are prominent too: Responsibility, integrity, respect.

The students are often here lifting weights at 7.30am. For linebacker Fraser and defensive end Tyrese Peters-Tovey, 19, the strength and conditioning work has been the toughest part. But the shared experience quickly saw the group bond.

“You kind of have to when you’re running 110-yard sprints together and running into each other for three hours a day!” Fraser says.

Each week they have three field sessions, four classroom sessions and four weightlifting sessions. On Wednesdays, the focus is on character development. Staff and external speakers talk about life skills, wellbeing, and issues such as social media safety and domestic violence.

They have 10 hours of classes in their chosen subjects – the same as all the college’s students – plus 15 hours of training on top. And if anybody wants extra video footage to review in their own time – an essential part of life in the NFL – staff are happy to oblige.

“If they’re willing to put the work in, we’ll match it and then some,” says Bryce. “It’s going to produce a type of American football player which this country has not produced before. They’re going to be much better prepared to compete in the NFL, mentally and physically.”

Only 90 could be accepted for the academy’s first intake in September

Head coach is Tony Allen – the long-serving London Warriors coach. He and his staff have had to tailor sessions to accommodate a range of skillsets.

Some signed up having already broken into Great Britain’s Under-19s, some had never played a snap. Many have come across from rugby, others have switched from sports like athletics, tennis, judo and swimming. In total, 32 of the 90 students are considered ‘crossover athletes’.

While American youngsters grow up with the game, British players like Umenyiora and Obada have proved you can pick it up late and still succeed.

Umenyiora was born in London and hadn’t even heard of American football until he moved to Alabama at the age of 14. He went on to win two Super Bowls. Obada didn’t play until he was 22 and, five years on, has just signed for a third year with the Carolina Panthers.

“We always said that if we’re going to help develop European talent we need to get them earlier and here we are working with 16-year-olds,” says Allen.

Students come from very different backgrounds, too. Three are involved with the Big Kid Foundationwhich seeks to help “young people at risk of social exclusion and youth violence”. Another is a former pupil at Charterhouse boarding school in Surrey.

Thirty-five have left home to be here – 30 from further afield in the UK, five from Europe. Because they’re under 18 they aren’t permitted to live on their own, so the college has partnered with a homestay programme to place them with local families, with extra pastoral and welfare staff on hand to support them.

The dream for many is to earn a scholarship and join the American collegiate system, from which NFL players are drafted. The academy has therefore had to find centres in London where they can sit the SAT test, for college admissions in the US.

That’s true of George Reynolds. He wants to be the NFL’s first British quarterback and has just been out in Florida. He was one of eight from the academy, selected by fellow students, to take part in a High School skills showdownbefore Sunday’s Pro Bowl all-star game in Orlando.

Fraser has recently joined George in the British U19 squad, and although he also hopes to play in the US too, he feels his academic choices could help him pursue an alternative career in politics.

Tyrese chose to put off university for a year, moving from Hackney to his dad’s in Enfield so he could be closer to campus. While his parents backed the decision, he initially faced opposition from his grandparents, who are lawyers and dentists in Trinidad.

“They made it sound like I wasn’t being productive,” Tyrese says. “But I’m not just getting better at football, I have a chance to get a qualification and get something in life.

“Whatever happens after this, I’ll be a better player and a better person. I think I made the right choice.”

Fraser Holden grew up playing rugby but switched over to American Football

With the NFL’s regular season already over, British players Christian Scotland-Williamson and Jamie Gillan recently dropped by. Obada is also set to pay another visit.

He and Scotland-Williamson are products of the International Player Pathway, which started in 2017. And the success of that programme, for over-20s, gave Alistair Kirkwood the inspiration to revisit an idea he first presented early in his 20-year tenure as NFL UK’s managing director.

Back then, things were focused solely on producing more elite, international players. But after helping bring regular season games to London, Kirkwood realised an academy could do much more.

“We wanted something from a community perspective in north London that was more year-round and impactful than just playing the London Games,” he says.

“Now education is as important in the academy as the athletic side, if not more so. An elite few will go to the States but success for us is 100% of kids having some form of defined success, be it going on to further education, becoming more employable or being role models who can influence younger kids.

“We’ve had lots of little landmarks where we’ve confounded ourselves and gone on to greater things but of all of these, I’d say the academy has the potential to be truly transformational. It could be something we look back on and say it changed the shape of the sport.”

As the students watch Super Bowl 54 this Sunday, it will be with a clear path of how one day they could get there too. Realistically, few will make it. Only 1.6% of US college players were drafted in 2018.

But even if they don’t, the experience will last a lifetime, wherever their future lies.

#first #students

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