THE TAX MAN COMETH

Once April 15 comes and goes, we are back to blissful ignorance and the fact that I don’t have to deal with my accountant or for that matter my financial advisor with a life and death interest.

Every phone call with these guys, every conversation I have with them, ends with me thinking in my head: “save me, and make sure I don’t get audited.” Why? Because I get nervous for no reason when the government comes to play. I am scrupulous as are the accountants and financial guys, I don’t like to cheat the government (mainly because their housing accommodations don’t look that great) and besides its’ unpatriotic.

Filling out tax forms is a lot like taking a test in college or high school. Answering questions that seem vague or require thinking usually means I have to strain my brain and make sure I can substantiate what I answer. My biggest fear is reading the question incorrectly and thus putting down an answer that screams: “ten to twenty years!”

I will throw myself at the mercy of the court and plead: ignorance, insanity and old age confusion, all at once. Yes, I will even go so far as to say: “TLW (The Little Woman) made me do that.”