Kaiser CEO is helping White House on vets

Kaiser Permanente CEO Bernard Tyson and his wife, Denise Bradley, were at the American Conservatory Theater’s recent 50th anniversary gala; and at mention of seeing his picture with a group of health executives at the White House, he said he’d been there twice since the Trump election.

The two were just back from New York for ceremonies honoring Time magazine’s Top 100 Most Influential People in the World 2017, an honor announced on April 20. Tyson earned a shout-out in Editor in Chief Nancy Gibbs’ introduction to the list, and the inspiring tribute essay on him was written for Time by revered civil rights leader Rep. John Lewis, D-Ga.

Lewis described Tyson as “smart, gifted, thoughtful and a highly respected voice in the struggle to make highquality health care affordable for every American. As the CEO of Kaiser Permanente, one of the nation’s largest nonprofit health plans, Bernard addresses the medical needs of more than 11.3 million people . ... rather than just treating disease, seeking to provide highquality, affordable, accessible health care to all of its members.”

Lewis’ views on health care are hardly those of the man in the White House. “Health care is a right. It is not a privilege reserved for a wealthy few,” Lewis said in March, arguing against the first, unsuccessful Trumpcare proposal. “It doesn’t profit this body to pass this bill and lose our soul. This bill is a shame. It is a disgrace.” Lewis also voted against the subsequent bill passed by the House last week.

At the White House, says Tyson, he’s been “working with several other CEOs on helping the Veterans Administration.” It’s not the occasion to dwell too much on the logic of traditional allegiances. There are practical matters and longrange goals to consider. (And also, the taking of a picture or two.)

Stephen Seewer was joking, when in response to a request that he confirm a teeth-cleaning appointment, he said, “I prefer black cherry-flavored tooth-polishing paste. For my goodie bag, I’d like wintergreen mint floss and an orange tooth brush.” When he showed up, his requests had been fulfilled. He said he was so pleased that at his November appointment, “I’m going to ask for turkey giblet-flavored toothpaste and butternut squash-flavored mouthwash.” (If hygienists are going to be asked to fulfill such orders, they deserve tips ... but they’ve got to interrupt the cleaning to ask, “How you liking that?”)

Neighborhood bard Paul Kilduff says the possibility that a recently closed CVS on Ocean Avenue will become a BevMo has received support from Ingleside Alcoholics United. To make sure he was joking, I Googled Ingleside Alcoholics United, and came up with word of an AA meeting at United Methodist Church in Ingleside, Ill.

Strange de Jim was watching when Seth Meyers discussed Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte’s bragging about taking enemies up in a helicopter and pushing them out the door. “This is what’s given him his nickname,” said Meyers, “United Airlines.”

As to the coast-to-coast eclipse upcoming in August, Eureka Scientific president John Vallerga says that six years ago, his astronomy research company booked 70 rooms at an upscale resort in Jackson Hole, Wyo., where the eclipse will be total. “After servicing friends, family and other astronomers,” he emailed, “we hope to cash in on the few rooms we have left. From what I understand, everything is booked but locals are still selling TV parking spots.”

“I’m starting to believe the people in my life who are always judging me.” Millennial woman to Millennial woman, overheard on the 24-Divisadero by Stewart Ingram

The sun beckoned us Sunday, May 7, to the How Weird Street Faire, which draws the usual San Francisco revelers: fishnet everywhere, sequins in beards, nakedness on the skinniest/paunchiest men and half-nakedness on the most perfectly toned women (gender distinctions between those who dare to bare must be someone’s Ph.D. thesis somewhere). As Lizzie Johnson has written, there was music, drinking and dancing, art and even a bit of politics (Winston Smith and his “Trump Hates Me” buttons and T-shirts). It was the non-mobile Bay to Breakers.

For me, the standout attire was worn by a boy of 11 or 12, waiting in line to get in. He had on a simple T-shirt and jeans, and a helmet made out of a hollowed-out watermelon. To prove the agricultural provenance of the chapeau, this goodnatured kid even let me stick my index finger under its surface. The inside was cold and wet, the ideal headgear for a basking/baking afternoon.