The Tax Man Cometh…

The Tax Man Cometh…

By Mark Leitheiser

Well, here we are in mid-April and things are finally looking up. Signs of our unending winter finally loosening its grip are all around us. The sun is shining in our windows, the birds are singing in the trees, and the geese are flying north for their summer vacation. It’s enough to make your heart sing with joy and who could blame you? Yet for all the warmth of our hard-earned spring, you would be wise to temper your joy with caution, for all is not well.

April may fulfill the promise of spring but She also fills our hearts with dread. For behold, the tax man cometh . . .

The story of taxes is a long road of human misery. A glance back to the time of Christ will show that Jerico’s chief tax collector, Zacchaeus, was seen as a sinful traitor of ill-repute.

In the classic tale, A Tale of Two Cities, tax collector, Gabelle, scrambles to his rooftop to avoid the angry mob below. Apparently, paying taxes was as popular 2,000 years ago as it is today.

The first federal tax was levied in 1862 when Abraham Lincoln needed a little extra cash to win the Civil War. If that weren’t bad enough, he also created a commissioner of Internal Revenue which, in turn, led to the creation of the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) we enjoy today. Although this war tax was repealed a decade later, the tax genie was out of the bottle and there was no going back.

The first state to require an income tax was, not surprisingly, Wisconsin, which passed legislation in 1911. Thanks, neighbor. Soon after, in 1913, the 16th Amendment was ratified which stated, in part, “The Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes on incomes, from whatever source derived…” Over 100 years later, paying taxes remains about as popular as a cold toilet seat. It may serve an important purpose but we don’t have to like it.

Having done my research on income tax, I found myself in need of greater clarity so naturally, I called my esteemed financial advisor, Dr. Yougotnobucks for some answers. After many attempts, my call was finally answered by Dr. You’, himself. “What’s the trouble, Kid?” “Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve been looking into the tax code and it doesn’t seem right.” “What’s eatin’ ya, Kid?” “I keep hearing that billionaires pay little or no taxes each year while I seem to pay a lot.. That doesn’t seem fair.” “Fair? Look Kid, you can read all 2,652 pages of the current tax code and one word you will not find is ‘fair’ so get over it.”

Not satisfied, I pressed on. “So you’re telling me there’s no way I can get the tax breaks billionaires get each year?” “Of course you can.” “Great! Then what do I need to do to get the same breaks as the big boys?” “That’s easy, Kid. All you need is a couple billion dollars by next April and it will be tax-free city for you!”

Now I was really perplexed. “A couple billion dollars? Why, it will take me at least ten years of teaching to make that kind of money. I just don’t understand these rules.” “Look kid, the only rule you need to understand is the Golden Rule and it will all make sense.”

“The Golden Rule? I know that one. ‘Do unto others as you would–” “No, no, Kid. Not that one. The real Golden Rule: ‘Those who own the gold, make the rules!’” “Oooooooh, now I get it.” “Sure, it’s simple, right? Look, Kid, I gotta run. The Feds are on their way. Good luck!” -click-

Although Dr. Yougotnobucks was helpful, I was still not satisfied so I decided to go right to the top by contacting my senator, the honorable, I. M. Sleazy for more answers. After countless attempts and diversions, I was finally able to speak with the good senator. “Hello, Senator. Thank you for taking my call, I–” “You old enough to vote, Son?” “Yes, I’m pretty sure I qualify.” “Good. Be sure you do so next election. Remember, voting’s easy, just vote for ol’ Sleazy! Now what can I do for you, Son?”

“Well, sir, I’m just wondering why my taxes are so high.” “Better explain that one to me, Son.” “Our nation has trillions of dollars of debt so I am asked to pay more. But my state has billions of dollars of surplus and I am asked to pay more again. What costs so much?” “Look Son, if you think pork is expensive at the grocery store, try paying for every stupid promise you made during a campaign. It ain’t cheap so that’s where you come in.” “But that isn’t–” “Look, Son, I gotta run. The Feds are on their way. Good luck and remember, vote Sleazy! It’s the American way.” -click-

With few options, I found the nearest CPA firm to take my financial whipping and be done with it. Most offices were busy, but fortunately, I was able to find one with an immediate opening. “Evasion Tax Services; You Earn It, We Burn It!” What could possibly go wrong? According to Evasion, a lot. When the numbers were tallied, I desperately tried to negotiate. Of course, no moral husband would offer up his wife to pay off a tax bill so I offered my kids instead. When my offer was rebuffed, I demanded an explanation. “We’ve met your kids. Forget it. Pay your taxes.”

Like many of you, I swallowed a groan and paid my taxes but this whole business served as a reminder. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the geese are flying and April is here in all Her glory. Yet we’d all be wise to season our joy with a sprinkle of caution, for behold, the tax man cometh . . .

 

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