California Health Insurance Quotes and Blog

What happened to Johnny and David was exactly what had happened to California Health Insurance agent Matt Lockard when he was about their age. It was like déjà vu, but it was fortunate that the boys were properly insured.

The Easter egg hunt over the spacious estate was great fun for the estimated five-hundred boys and girls loosed by the starter’s gun. Johnny and David Sprunt, a pair of brothers, aged 9 and 8, were intent on filling their baskets with treats. The chase after the hidden confections – became a frenzied kind of kid madness, within the first few seconds. But Johnny quickly spied a yellow marshmallow baby chick and placed it in his basket amid the green plastic grass and soon bent down to reach for a chocolate bunny behind an azalea bush that his brother David spotted at precisely the same instant. But when he too bent down and reached, the result was the accident of two boy heads bonking. The brothers were knocked cold.

“They both might have concussions,” their Dad figured. Their Mom was on her smart phone in seconds and dialing 911. Both parents were relieved when they realized that the trip to the ER would be covered, as they’d purchased a family plan from Matt Lockard, their California Health Insurance agent just a few months before.  First David, and then Johnny recovered consciousness in the ambulance enroute to the hospital, which was a good sign.

Both boys did sustain slight concussions, but even worse, they’d missed the rest of the Easter egg hunt. Later, when the brothers were recuperating at home, their parents offered them some pieces of Easter candy which the boys ironically refused – instead they asked for child’s strength aspirin. 

About a week later, the entire Sprunt family decided to pay a visit to Matt Lockard’s office. Within minutes the boys were relating the entire story, bonking and all. “That’s exactly what happened to me when I was about your age. I bonked my head on my friend Sammy’s head.”

The boys were impressed. “Really?” David asked.

A moment later, Matt surprised the family with an offer. “Hey, I knew you were coming over and hid some candy around my office. Whatever you can find in five minutes you can have.”

It was more informal, but big smiles suddenly appeared on Johnny’s angelic face, and then David’s. The hunt was on! Within ten seconds though, when both boys spied a big chocolate bunny at precisely the same instant, and reached for it a little too eagerly …

When California Health Insurance agent Matt Lockard sold two individual child plans to a family in Ventura, he never would have guessed how a kaleidoscope could be the root of all evil. 

The Coakleys were refugees from Malibu Beach. When they moved to Ventura, it was difficult for them to fit in. Fred Coakley had been an actor, playing ghouls in zombie-filled horror flicks when he could get the parts; his wife Isabelle an ill-equipped socialite — lacked social skills. Their adorable children Tristan, age 6, and Annie, age 9, were chronically toy-deprived until a passive-aggressive Samaritan philanthropist donated a kaleidoscope for the children to play with. Prior to the children’s acquisition of the sinister toy, the philanthropist had also paid for three policies, a family plan and two individual plans for the kiddies – all purchased from California Health Insurance agent Matt Lockard.

The Coakley children weren’t greedy like some children are. This turned out to be a liability, as they quietly shared the kaleidoscope, being utterly mesmerized by its ceaseless morphing colorful patterns – and in staring at the kaleidoscope in their obsessive-compulsive manner which was hereditary for any Coakley; their sweet little eyes became fixated in a cruel way. Strabismus, sometimes known as “cross-eyes” or in Isabelle Coakley’s crazed mind, “the double evil-eye times two,” set in. 

Fred and Isabelle noticed their children’s wandering eyes one night during a family séance. Isabelle became hysterical. “Why are you doing that kiddies?” she screamed, “Why are you giving your Ma the double evil-eye times two?” The children replied in eerie unison, voicing a chilling, sing-song cadenced mannerism reminiscent of some of their Da’s better films, “It’s the kaleidoscope me thinks!”

While Isabelle simply grabbed the nearest axe, Fred had the presence of mind to seek out emergency eye care, something to flush out strabismus when it was kaleidoscope-induced, preferably. A month later, the reunited family came by Matt Lockard’s office after taking the bus there. The children were wearing patches on their left eyes, the sinister ones. Matt was expecting the foursome, being a fan of Fred’s better undead impersonations and of course, being their trusted California Health Insurance agent, albeit by proxy.

“Nice patches,” Matt Lockard opined once the kiddies had ambled in, “Are they pirates today?”

When the children began sobbing, their feelings hurt; well-meaning Matt pulled a toy from a convenient drawer. It was, unfortunately, a kaleidoscope.

When Stanley heard the sound of one hand clapping, nobody else listened until a California Health Insurance agent decided to play along.

Because of his manipulative personality, his tendency to steal other children’s toys, and his predilection for tattling, other boys avoided eleven-year-old Stanley. When he was outside, he played solitary games like one-hand-clapping, and worse, he’d listen to that hand. Stanley’s mother, a single mom, could be accused of being overprotective, but she had contacted a widowed California Health Insurance agent named Ralph just to make sure her odd little cherub was covered by an individual child plan. This precaution seemed prudent, even prescient, once she started dating Ralph.

Let’s go camping up in the Sierras, Ralph announced one weekend. The three of them headed for a snow-covered campground in a rented SUV. After their tent was pitched, Stanley grew accustomed to the canvas structure’s fetid air and began his characteristic clapping game, which annoyed the heck out of Ralph. “Hey, let’s go out and throw some snowballs!” he announced. Pushed out into a winter wonderland as if re-emerging from the womb, Stanley, who had never really seen snow, began making a snowball with one hand. Ralph noticed. “You have to pack it – use your other hand,” he instructed. All too soon, Stanley had made his first-ever snowball.  But instinctively returning to his familiar game, the one-hand-clapping, the uncoordinated snowball became a projectile and smacked Ralph surprisingly hard on the side of the face.  Before he realized it, and because he assumed Stanley had meant to throw the snowball, Ralph retaliated with his adult strength. He may have thrown several. In any case, Stanley eventually screamed, “He broke my glasses! Ralph broke my glasses!”

Stanley’s mom drove at breakneck speed for forty miles out of that canyon until she made it to the nearest ER, hardly glancing at her newfound boyfriend.

Stanley had been cut below the left eye by a shard of glass, requiring three stitches. Afterwards, Ralph apologized. “I’m sorry kid,” he muttered.

Stanley was quick to forgive. “Want to play my game?” he asked. Ralph was initially repulsed, but decided, “Oh what the heck!” As the SUV sped along a narrow rural road somewhere north of Sacramento, two elusive hands chased each other while never touching.