California Health Insurance Quotes and Blog

Seventh grader Aaron B. Mason’s first day back at school featured an inevitable catastrophe. But thanks to the foresight of his parents and the family plan they purchased from a California Health Insurance agent in Long Beach, Aaron’s recuperation wasn’t also a financial catastrophe.

Aaron, a lanky 12-year-old about to begin 7^th grade, was in the middle of his pubertal growth spurt. His wrists and ankles seemed barely attached by their tendons and sinews to his arms and legs, and like a lot of boys his age – he was at that klutzy stage.  “Aaron, pick up your feet!” his loud-voiced mom would scream seeing her son stumble off, embarrassing him in front of his friend, he only had one, another young klutz named Ralph, but Aaron’s mom didn’t extend her nagging ear-piercing soprano to her neighbor’s kid. Miraculously, Aaron, who might have felt safer trapped during puberty in a Mason jar, didn’t get seriously injured during that summer before entering 7^th grade with the rest of his tweener peers. Other than a few cuts and bruises experienced as consequences received from clumsily falling over steps and tripping over obstacles of sundry description, Aaron managed to escape that summer unscathed.

But the first day of school was another story. During first period, right after homeroom, Aaron was already late as it had been gym, he started running to his algebra class in the hall, and by the time his gym teacher could finish yelling, “Hey Mason! Pick up your feet!” Aaron had become tangled up in his own legs and tripped, falling flat on his chin and smacking his jaw against the middle school’s hardwood floor, just polished by the school janitor minutes before and very treacherous. Aaron was knocked cold and carried out of his school into a waiting ambulance on a stretcher.

Ralph went to see Aaron in the hospital, and was there when his friend woke up in his hospital bed. So was a California Health Insurance agent who happened to be courteously checking in on the Mason kid, a tall man with glasses whom neither Ralph nor Aaron immediately recognized. “Who is he?” Aaron whispered through clenched teeth to his friend, his jaw shot full of painkillers.    

“I’m Clark Kent, a California Health Insurance agent,” the strange man replied. Oddly, he also spoke through clenched teeth – but in his case it was merely an idiosyncrasy.

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.