Longtime readers know I'm a lifelong Cubs fan, which clearly means I'm a glutton for punishment. On a completely unrelated note, time for another look at the ongoing health-care reform debate.

The more I read about the current state of health care in America, the more I'm convinced the health insurance industry is at least as confusing as the subprime mortgage "scandal" that contributed to the ongoing economic slump. I have a mortgage, and I have health insurance, but I really understand very little about either. Maybe that's simply a reflection on my effort and intelligence, but I doubt many average Americans can fully explain their own health policy and completely understand what their provider will and won't cover.

That's a leading reason why it's difficult to make simple arguments. Gregg Easterbook, a writer I've long admired, argued recently for a switch to a model similar to how we handle car and home insurance, "in which most people carry only catastrophic-cost insurance, then pay other health costs themselves."

With my house and car insurance policies, I pay a premium to AllState. For the house, it's rolled into my escrow account with property taxes and the mortgage. For car insurance it's due every six months (or I can pay in monthly installments so long as I pay $3 each month for that convenience).

When the paperwork comes in the mail, I look it over to make sure everything is spelled right, as well as to eyeball the benefit and deductible amounts, then I stick it in a file cabinet and hope to high heaven I never need to use either policy.

When I need an oil change, I pay out of pocket — the same price everyone else pays. When I need a new furnace filter, I buy one off the shelf. Again, same price as everyone else who needs the same filter. If my water heater breaks, it's my job to call the plumber and have him install a new one.

If vandals break a window in my car or bust out a brake light, I call AllState. If the ceiling in our oldest son's room begins to leak and it turns out all the plaster must be replaced, I call AllState. I have to pay list price for the new window and brake light and ceiling, and then later AllState sends me a check for the amount my policy entitles me to receive.

Conversely, every trip to the doctor's office is a guessing game. I don't know what type of answer I'd get if I called a pediatrician and asked, "How much for a measles, mumps and rubella vaccination?" I know I can buy over-the-counter medicine at cost, but once prescriptions enter the picture, I generally walk into the pharmacy and cross my fingers that a generic drug is available so I don't break the bank.

When our pediatrician told us to take Max to Chicago for a precautionary echocardiogram, we dutifully drove the little guy down there. At the front desk, we gave the receptionist our insurance card and a $25 co-pay. There was no menu board showing services and fees. We just had the test done and waited for the mail.

According to a statement from the doctor, a comprehensive office consultation cost $380, the ECG was $80. Insurance should cover some or all of that, I'm not really sure. For some reason, I still owe the provider $14, though I'm don't quite know why. I will call, and they'll explain it and I'll pay, and the most important thing is that our son is healthy.

But here's the funny thing: As much as the house/car model makes sense to me, I'm not sure I want my health insurance to be the same way. There's something comforting about going to a medical office, flashing my card and knowing I'll be given care that day. I don't look forward to the bill arriving in the mail and trying to make heads or tails of the benefit statement, but I sure do feel good carrying that card in my wallet.

Of course, not everyone can afford to buy health coverage. And as a matter of human decency, I think medical care should be available to everyone, just like public education and public safety. I also would like to see medical offices and hospitals post their prices and charge the same rate to everyone, no matter if they have insurance or who they have as a provider.

But furnace filters and oil changes are incredibly simple compared to pediatric ECGs and open-heart surgery. So it's easy to see where the health-care industry can somewhat justify a complex billing system.

It's also easy to see that the more I look at this situation, the less I understand. And the different plans being discussed in Washington aren't doing anything to simplify the issue for regular Americans. I'm not opposed to reform, but if new legislation makes health care as logical as the income tax structure, I don't think we can call that progress.

• SCOTT T. HOLLAND is former associate editor of The Times but continues to contribute his column plus help with editing, writing and page design. He can be reached at scotth@mywebtimes.com.