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Arch Dermatol. 1998;134:217-218.

	Since this article does not have an abstract, we have provided the first 150 words of the full text and any section headings.

WELCOME CLASS of '97 to our grand calling.

You doubtless have heard loud, pessimistic voices that declare that doomsday is upon the medical establishment. You are being told that this is a terrible time to enter medicine, that the privileges we oldsters enjoyed in our careers are being snatched away by HMOs, managed care, third-payer bureaucrats, and that modern pestilence, malpractice lawyers. We hear woeful news that physicians are retiring prematurely and urging their children not to become doctors. The prophets of gloom and doom quote the statistic that there are too many of us, that you may not find jobs and are perhaps destined to use your high training to become expert cab drivers and car salesmen.

As a spokesman for the class of 1947, and from the perspective of 50 years, I have assigned myself the charge of countering this baleful scenario. Dickens may have best captured our . . . [Full Text of this Article]

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