taxing

Taxes are done, across the board.

I had a discussion a number of years ago with a co-worker: she was dating someone, it was pretty serious, and she was telling us about how he wanted her to attend his church with him. Being an atheist, she had absolutely zero interest in going to his church, an ultra-conservative version, much less any church. His response was to offer a different, less conservative option. Her response was to this attempt at compromise was to dig her heels in at her current position. The point of the story, and the discussion we had, was compromise, and what it means. It isn’t about religion – that’s just my real-life analogy. If two parties start out at point A and point Z, and the holder of point Z offers point O or point M as a compromise, then your sitting powerfully on point A isn’t participatory. You aren’t compromising, or even discussing the option, you’re just sitting on point A. I think about this often while listening to the political rumblings from inside the Beltway.

On Saturday I took in The Agony and Ecstasy of Steve Jobs at Woolly Mammoth in D.C. Mike Daisey has written a number of one-man monologues that I’ve missed in the past: I promised myself to make sure this one didn’t slip by. Daisey is a brilliant perfomer who takes you on winding journeys over nearly two hours of information and irritation. He spent a month in China last year (?) gathering information about Apple’s (and, truthfully, probably every other computer company’s) labor habits. Of course, it’s easy to pose Apple as your foil since the company, and Jobs, cry out for harassment. The piece is interleaved stories of Apple’s marketing / geekdom strategy (the funny bits), and the issues in Chinese factories (disturbing). Daisey flawlessly combines the two into a strong finished product. I certainly won’t miss any of the future shows as they invariably arrive in D.C.

In my desire to re-hash older entries, I’ve latched onto an Andrew Sullivan gripe that’s right up my alley. If you remember this, then you wouldn’t doubt my attachment to this idea. Of course, it’s the same herd of folks that obsess over their smart phones: at concerts, while talking to you, on the toilet, and etc. Yes, I understand that some jobs require constant contact, but most of them don’t – put it down, walk away.

I’m back in class tonight. I promise I’ll try to suffer in silence through the mindless, useless guidance from my ‘instructor’. That was pleasant enough, right?

T

p.s. The World Snooker Championships kicked off this week. I know, you’re as excited as I am…

eff the customer, or...'done in by The Man'

I shouldn’t be so abrasive. The Eleven had some excellent encounters with the real world yesterday: she at the dentist, I at the IRS. I know my story better so I’ll give it the first whirl.

I left work early so I could get to the local IRS office by 3:30pm (they close at 4:30pm). I know that doesn’t leave DMV-quantity time, but it’s not like we’re in the midst of tax season. I had called the office beforehand and the message told me that there were only two types of inquiry that required appointments: tax preparation and handicap/special needs customers. All I needed was five minutes for some tax hack to pull up my account, tell me what they added, where they got the information, and tell me what form I need to fill out to begin the process of countering their excellent work. What I got was a desk lady telling me at 3:30pm that they aren’t seeing anyone else because there are still four people waiting for help. So? Do I care? Nope. I’m perfectly happy to sit in your waiting room to see if I can slip in before 4:30pm. She claims they don’t normally do that, make people wait without a number and all, but she’s clearly befuddled by my showing up at her desk during business hours…the nerve! The only option she had now was to go behind the cubicle dividers (with cipher locks?) and find someone to get me away from her. Out comes another IRS cartoon character and she relays the same story and recommends showing up at 8:30am to get a number and sit in the waiting room for up to five hours. Or, she can give me an appointment for sometime in June of 2035 (or next month). I say to her that they don’t recommend jack on the phone, in fact, they tell me that only the above two areas are valid for appointments. So I took my 2004 tax form from her, my letter from the IRS confirming how they’ve helped me, kicked her in the shins, and walked out the door...pissed. If I have it all lined up correctly in my head, here’s how it works: IRS adds some mystery tax bill to my account, charges me monthly interest, tells me to call the 800 number that can’t help me, tells me to remedy the issue by June 4th, can’t help me in the office unless I have eight hours to sit around steaming at their ineptitude, can make me an appointment three weeks away, and generally just expects me to be happy. Love it.

X ended up at the dentist office yesterday to speak with them about a bill for the boys. Her tale gets me more worked up than the IRS because I recognize the IRS as a ship manned by fools. I know they’re dysfunctional. A local dentist office is different; you’re standing right there while it’s happening, yet you get screwed in the end anyway. The short story is that they made some routine dental work choices (filling types and associated costs) that they knew weren’t covered by insurance. They didn’t tell her they were making these choices, knowing they weren’t covered, but still manage to standby the “you should know your insurance” line. That line is true but wasn’t the actual debate. If you don’t say you’re going to do A and/or B then my intimacy with my policy is irrelevant. In the end, X got a big bill for services that weren’t needed: nitrous and white fillings. The dentist knew the insurance issue with the nitrous (most don't cover it) but appears to have a soft spot for the comfort of children (a good thing), and felt that nitrous would make them happier (more comfortable?), so she did it without asking the parent if it was all right. That decision alone ends up being a chunk of money for two kids and multiple appointments. The white composites fillings for back teeth are just silly. Anyhow, X stood her ground and went to speak with them face-to-face after getting nowhere with the office manager. She had a short chat with the dentist/owner, who then went to fetch the dentist who did the work, and told her to explain her thought process during the treatment. After this recreation, and when both X and the dentist came to an agreement on some middle ground, the office offered to cut the bill by 50% and X accepted. It’s probably the best anyone could hope for in the instance, but I still have reservations about unexplained activities that involve other people’s money, particularly when we’re talking routine medical services. You certainly can’t walk into a dentist office and tell them to do some work and afterwards you’ll decide what you think is ‘best’ for payment. If there are choices for medical care than those choices should be provided. If we make the wrong decision because we didn’t understand our insurance, bad on us; but to intimate that we should be in the exam room during the procedures, and watching everything the dentist is doing, is just wrong.

Cake or death?

We’ve got a concert to attend at the Birchmere tonight…I’ll be nicer tomorrow.

T.

sticking it to The Man

Another Monday has rolled by, and mine was landmined by a post arriving from the IRS telling me that they had adjusted my tax bill for 2004. Thanks for looking out for me guys. They claim that there’s some $1,450 ($1,650 with interest) that is owed due to “pension and retirement funds” and “tax-exempt education fund withdrawals” that we hadn't claimed on our return. If the tax bill is nearly $1,500 then that’s a huge chunk of taxable income that I apparently mislaid. Fortunately (I think), there’s been a mistake in the art of social security number transcription. Being as neither of us had any pension or retirement activity, or funds, in 2004; nor did we have any education funds, I’m confident that it can be sorted out post-haste. Why anyone would think they could sort out an issue post-haste with the IRS is absolutely beyond me…and it’s me saying it about me. Maybe all the balloons I blew up on Sunday have made me simple. I called the 800 number yesterday and realized after 30 minutes that what I needed couldn’t be solved via the auto-menu lady talking into my head hole. I’m off early this afternoon to the Arlington IRS office to speak with an engaging IRS chap; retired G-man to G-man.

Speaking of the IRS and goof ball operations, do we all remember the ‘failure to rewind the videotape’ fines? The Eleven* was returning some DVDs to Blockbuster yesterday and X asks me, “Did you rewind the movies?” She said it in such smooth manner that I had to take pause and think about whether or not I had actually rewound them. Ha, such a funny girl! The 80s and 90s were oppressive times in video stores; bounties of late fees, failure to rewind fees, two or three copies of the newest movies available for our selection, 2.5 hour rental periods, etc. You know if was bad because every visit you were stuck behind some customer yelling, on the verge of homocide, that they were NOT going to pay that fee. The ‘please be kind, rewind’ fine was by far the stupidest – who cares? The only time I was usually caught was when I had to run out the door at 8:55pm (in jammies and a sweatshirt) in order to get the movie back to the store by 9:00pm, and thereby to avoiding the million dollar late-fee; or, when I just forgot to rewind because, like some kind of war criminal, I decided to go upstairs to bed after watching a movie. After a few un-rewind-fines I thought about buying one of those stand-alone rewind machines, I had friends who’d fallen for that trick, but all the machines were junk. Why do I need two machines in order to work a simple VHS tape? Why didn’t the video store knobs just buy four or five industrial-strength rewinding machines and rewind the few tapes that accidentally infiltrated the store? Why didn’t they show some humanity and just let me return Heaven’s Gate without the added punitive damage of $1-$3? Why? They were all bastards, and I name them: Applause, Blockbuster, all the independent family-run joints, discount supermarket chains, and innumerable military base rental shops. I feel much better.

*The Eleven: it’s been noted that the etymology of this term might be causing confusion. After so many entries of I typing “X and I did this…”, or “X and I went to…” (X being my term for Christine), I realized that the X and I, minus the conjunction, make the roman numeral XI, hence “The Eleven”. Thanks for listening.

Love.

T.

crime and punishment

There’s a free-standing, real estate-like sign along Gallows Road near the Dunn Loring Metro that advertises the following


I was passing by on the bus and caught it briefly as we turned into the lot. As you’d expect, I thought to myself “Well, day care without the use of cages is certainly holistic. We can put labels on the kids’ clothing saying that they were raised ‘cage-free’ and ‘organic’.” Not only that, apparently there’s no long-term commitment like other day care centers – a nice, convenient drop-off service in case the little button needs a few days or hours of romping the fields while mom and dad work overtime. It did take me a second to register the Day Boarding bullet as an indicator that it’s probably pets they’re looking to book at the inn. Suddenly I started thinking about X’s legal writing or legal editing professor and I began to think how one would advertise a horrific pet kennel...



As an aside, If you happen to be forced to purchase a like business property after your current business is destroyed, here's what you need to keep in mind. Take your insurance payment and deduct the (book)value of the old business to determine your realized gain. If you don't spend all the insurance money on the new business then you'll compare the realized gain with the monies that you didn't spend on the new business and take the lesser of the two - that's your recognized gain. Remember, your new basis for the business is the value of the old business, plus any additional cash or credit you used to buy the new business, plus any money received, minus any recognized gain. Voila! You can review this information in Section 1033 ofr the U.S. Tax Code.

Such a life.

T.