The Incredible Unending Generosity Of Mrs. Hillbilly Mom

Remember when The Pony's interest inventory upon filling out his FAFSA form for college returned the verdict that he does not really care about helping people? He did not get that trait from Mr. Congeniality Farmer H, nor from Mrs. HM. You might say that Mrs. HM is the AntiPony. All about helping people, even though her personal motto is "People Piss Me Off."

Tuesday morning, I was in a bit of a time crunch. I had to get to town WAY too early compared to my usual schedule, which is 3:30. I needed to pick up a flip house construction materials payment from The Pony on his day off, and get to the bank for cash reimbursement for Farmer H's outlay to pay Old Buddy for labor. AND pop in the Sis-Town Country Mart for bananas. Which meant I'd need to be in the shower by 1:00 and on the road by 1:30.

I sat on the short couch at 9:55, contemplating whether my limited time would best be spent by dozing off and catching the winks I'd missed since being awake until 4:00 a.m., or getting off my ample rumpus to wash up the chili bowls that were soaking in the sink. My reverie was interrupted by the ring of the Mansion phone. I don't bother to jump up and answer. That ship has sailed.

"Hello? Is this Hillbilly Mom? I am Jane Doe, and I used to teach with you at the Mentia school district." Meaning that while I toiled in Lower Basementia and Newmentia, she was edumacatin' at Elementia. "I am getting ready to get off school insurance and sign up for Medicare, and I'd like to ask you some questions about how to do that. Please call me back."

Welp! Of course Mrs. HM is your go-to gal for that type of thing, right? Having all the answers, after needing to pay three extra months of high-dollar school insurance until all the kinks were worked out in her own sign-up.

Sweet Gummi Mary! What was in it for ME to answer questions for this gal? So you know what I did, right, on that morning I was tired and pressed for time. I PICKED UP MY CELL PHONE AND CALLED HER BACK.

"I don't think I'm the one you need to talk to..."

"I have no idea what to do. I retired 16 years ago. But I'm just now old enough to get off the school insurance and onto Medicare. I asked around the main office if they knew somebody who had gone through it, who could help me. I said I didn't want anybody OLD, because they wouldn't remember how they did it. So I asked if there was anybody who'd gone through this within the last year, and they gave me your name. I said, 'Oh, I know her! I had both her kids at school.'"

"Yes. I still remember the day we were picking up Young Genius, and The Pony said, 'WAIT! Can I get out and give Mrs. Doe a hug?' Even though Young Genius told him he was crazy." [Mrs. Doe was not known for her huggy-feeliness, and was thought by most to be a hard-rumpused taskmaster.]

"Well, I would really appreciate it if I could talk to you about what to do. I have no idea! If now is not a good time, we can meet somewhere and talk about it--"

"No! I'll tell you all I know right now. Just talk to the people at our insurance group! That's what they're paid to do. Go online and find This Gal, who helped me. She was prompt and returned my emails and got everything done for me. And I get a bill every three months from the government to pay for it. She'll look up your doctor and meds, and give you quotes on two or three supplemental plans so you can compare and choose. But make sure you go to the Social Security office first, so they can sign you up for the basic part. That's what held me up."

"Oh, I already have my appointment there. My birthday is in January. I guess they will have it all ready then, and I can stop paying the school insurance in December."

"Maybe. This Gal will walk you through it."

"Thank you so much! You've been very helpful. I didn't have a clue, and was getting all these calls from people trying to sell me the supplemental plans."

You'd think if it's this hard for TEACHERS to figure out, perhaps the system needs to be overhauled and simplified. Especially the online signup that locks you out mid-application...

Just another 20 minutes in the life of Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, Director, of One Great Big Helping Party.