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Reese Alsop '36, clinical professor of medicine at SUNY-Stony Brook, works half-days at the Long Island Veterans' Hospital. Recent tilts with HMOs prompted the following fantasy.
It had been a quiet week: a few false alarms, and some smoldering in the dump on Welfare Island. I put my feet on the desk, almost dozed, morning coffee having run its course; not very dignified for the chief, but comfortable. I got my comeuppance.
The double explosion brought me out of my chair. My secretary burst through the door. "It's the Kinderlin Warehouse," she shouted. "A four-alarm!"
I looked out where she was pointing. A block away, clouds of smoke poured out of windows, propelled by flaming explosions.
Now bells were ringing. Sirens screamed. The first big red truck roared into life. I dashed out, grabbed my helmet, and leapt behind the wheel, as another secretary handed me a message. It was headed: "Provisional Fire Insurance Co." It read:
"We disapprove of your fighting this fire because:
I. You are not on our list.
II. It has not been authenticated.
III. Your firefighters have not been cleared by our committee.
IV We have a contract with another company in a near-by state.
V. You have not filled out the necessary form for firefighting--Form No. 887,659,454.
VI. You use expensive liquids which might jeopardize our plans for firefighting reform.
VII. You have been reported to spend too much time at the scene.
VIII. You sometimes utilize help from other fire departments.
IX. You put out the fire."