When you wake up on a crisp Tuesday morning before the sun rises as the Earth continues its awful rotation to darker and darker pastures you don't often ponder, today is the day I get an opportunity to stick it to the Man. Today, on Stick it to the Man Tuesday, also Taco Tuesday down at the In the Drink a close and favorite watering hole, my wonderful, fantastic, super-duper awesome wife decided we would make it Super Spiegelhoff winning Tuesday. No, no, we don't care about Romney and his childhood with seven mom's growing up in Mexico where polygamy was legal. I'm talking about an old fashioned show down with the Tax Man. You know this brings me back a little. When I was seven and motoring through the second grade our teacher asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. I said I wanted to be awesome. A dreamer, I know. But the dork in the corner, Myron said, "When I grow up I want to be a tax assessor." That was met with spitballs and interestingly 30 years later the tax man gets the same response.
I note my wife was wonderful, fantastic, super-duper awesome because she received the letter saying, after we bought our a little northern cabin to escape the heat of the south to endure, excuse me, I mean enjoy a nice snowy freezing winter beginning in early October, said they (from this point on "they" known as the MAN) were raising our property taxes. I remember coming home that day and remarking to my model-hot wife how that made perfect sense. You know with all the home buying going on and the robust economy it was clearly logical that our house was going up in value 120 days after we purchased it. It was slightly shocking, mostly since our house in Florida is worth about 70% less than the day we bought it, that in 120 days it had gone up in value $100,000. Who could argue with results though! I told the wife to not worry about a thing. I got a realtor on speed dial and we're absolutely fantastic at moving and with all that extra cash in our pocket we could probably foreclose on our house in Tampa and buy it back within the same week in cold hard cash baby!! Sometimes good fortune just falls right in your lap.
However, after coming down from that short but enjoyable psychotic escapade she explained to me how we either bought the nicest house in all of Lake Geneva or some drunk accountant accidentally added three zeros to our tax assessment. You don't think they simply want more tax revenue for the coffers do you? She decided she wanted to fight. That's my girl! So, she diligently prepared for a showdown with the MAN and town board. She researched comparable properties, figured cost per square foot, got a massage, formulated and perfected her prose for the big stage and with that we were off for our high 2pm show down. C'mon it was close to noon.
We arrived a prompt ten minutes early but in typical government fashion, with no one else in the room, they waited until precisely the clock struck 2:02 to ask if we were indeed the "objectors." Sir, I object! Too early? Right, right, we have to be sworn in. This was gonna be fun! They explained the rules of engagement, swore us in, told us we were on candid camera, just kidding, told us they were taping this and off we ran. Holy cow what an education! I am nearly certain I could make a small fortune explaining to people how best to beat the tax man. Please deposit $5 via paypal to continue reading the rest of this blog. Seriously, did you deposit the money? Okay, but I'm totally trusting you. The honor system - still works!
It goes like this. We get to go first, since we're the objectors. We make our argument, present our evidence (it turns out you don't get your evidence back so do yourself a favor and make copies), then the board asks you questions, then the tax MAN gets his turn, presents his evidence (totally unprepared for my industriously zealous wife), woefully said he was finished and BAM! decision time. There was much discussion. The board was unashamedly flirting with my wife at this point when yes, this actually happened, the tax MAN explained they couldn't just choose a more reasonable figure for our house. They had to either say we were right and give us the named price we stated during our opening arguments or say we were wrong and, shiver, the tax MAN was right. Holy @&#%!! We missed that part of the instructions, because we clearly used the same method as the tax MAN to come up with our estimate - we arbitrarily made it up with what we deemed fair. But, on Stick it to the Man Tuesday the tax God's were shining on my majestic wife. And it was shining bright, my friends. Kablamo! Board loves my wife. Tax MAN goes down swinging in a 10 round TKO. Shazam! We're rich, or rather we officially pay less in taxes. And that is how you stick it to the MAN my friends. And since this blog had nothing to do with my kids, here is a picture of them wearing their underwear on their heads. Kablamo!
I note my wife was wonderful, fantastic, super-duper awesome because she received the letter saying, after we bought our a little northern cabin to escape the heat of the south to endure, excuse me, I mean enjoy a nice snowy freezing winter beginning in early October, said they (from this point on "they" known as the MAN) were raising our property taxes. I remember coming home that day and remarking to my model-hot wife how that made perfect sense. You know with all the home buying going on and the robust economy it was clearly logical that our house was going up in value 120 days after we purchased it. It was slightly shocking, mostly since our house in Florida is worth about 70% less than the day we bought it, that in 120 days it had gone up in value $100,000. Who could argue with results though! I told the wife to not worry about a thing. I got a realtor on speed dial and we're absolutely fantastic at moving and with all that extra cash in our pocket we could probably foreclose on our house in Tampa and buy it back within the same week in cold hard cash baby!! Sometimes good fortune just falls right in your lap.
However, after coming down from that short but enjoyable psychotic escapade she explained to me how we either bought the nicest house in all of Lake Geneva or some drunk accountant accidentally added three zeros to our tax assessment. You don't think they simply want more tax revenue for the coffers do you? She decided she wanted to fight. That's my girl! So, she diligently prepared for a showdown with the MAN and town board. She researched comparable properties, figured cost per square foot, got a massage, formulated and perfected her prose for the big stage and with that we were off for our high 2pm show down. C'mon it was close to noon.
We arrived a prompt ten minutes early but in typical government fashion, with no one else in the room, they waited until precisely the clock struck 2:02 to ask if we were indeed the "objectors." Sir, I object! Too early? Right, right, we have to be sworn in. This was gonna be fun! They explained the rules of engagement, swore us in, told us we were on candid camera, just kidding, told us they were taping this and off we ran. Holy cow what an education! I am nearly certain I could make a small fortune explaining to people how best to beat the tax man. Please deposit $5 via paypal to continue reading the rest of this blog. Seriously, did you deposit the money? Okay, but I'm totally trusting you. The honor system - still works!
It goes like this. We get to go first, since we're the objectors. We make our argument, present our evidence (it turns out you don't get your evidence back so do yourself a favor and make copies), then the board asks you questions, then the tax MAN gets his turn, presents his evidence (totally unprepared for my industriously zealous wife), woefully said he was finished and BAM! decision time. There was much discussion. The board was unashamedly flirting with my wife at this point when yes, this actually happened, the tax MAN explained they couldn't just choose a more reasonable figure for our house. They had to either say we were right and give us the named price we stated during our opening arguments or say we were wrong and, shiver, the tax MAN was right. Holy @&#%!! We missed that part of the instructions, because we clearly used the same method as the tax MAN to come up with our estimate - we arbitrarily made it up with what we deemed fair. But, on Stick it to the Man Tuesday the tax God's were shining on my majestic wife. And it was shining bright, my friends. Kablamo! Board loves my wife. Tax MAN goes down swinging in a 10 round TKO. Shazam! We're rich, or rather we officially pay less in taxes. And that is how you stick it to the MAN my friends. And since this blog had nothing to do with my kids, here is a picture of them wearing their underwear on their heads. Kablamo!
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