On top of my computer woes, which are still ongoing, I’ve been trying to gather all of the tax filing forms, exhibits, receipts and schedules necessary to make my accountant not want to shoot me.
For reasons beyond my control, over the past few years, I have become one of those October tax filers.
Luckily, I do keep most of the necessary tax materials in one file in one location right by my desk and any missing materials can be found among the monthly folders I keep in that same area for each year’s bills, income and expenses.
At the end of each year’s tax process those files join a larger set of boxes with the prior years’ folders in boxes in my office closet. I also keep that year’s tax return with those shifted folders.
I never look at them again. Because I have the brightest, most industrious, and most skilled accountant that ever walked the earth. Robert “Bob” Kunisch.
Still, it’s an annual headache – going though each month’s file for the prior tax year and then cross checking those receipts against that year’s bank statements – every addition and deduction to every account – to make sure I haven’t missed anything. Tedious but necessary. Thankfully, I can download each year’s bank statements, review them numerous times, and then create the necessary schedules. I keep receipts for rare relevant cash exchanges, which are emptied out of my pockets onto my desk on a daily basis and swept into the files.
I’m sure there are easier ways to do it, like Quick Books, etc. But I am a proud Luddite, and too old a dog to learn new tricks.
So, given I have a hard filing deadline coming up next month, my accountant instructed that I had to get it done this week. And luckily, as in all years passed, I did.
Back in NY, I did my own taxes, using tax software. Straightforward. But it was just Lisa and my w-2s and the kids’ standard deductions. Feed the information into the computer, answer a few questions, push a button and voila. And it was always done in April. No excuses.
Now we have 1099s and smaller, varied streams of income and corresponding business expenses. No standard anything. The devil is in the details.
That’s why I force myself to toss everything in the files. Save everything and sort it out later. Once a year.
I am a man of letters so that is why I need a brilliant accountant to go over the numbers on everything I then create with a fine tooth comb – and triple check everything to make sure nothing is wrong or missing – so that I am paying Rome what is Rome’s. Always an amount that would keep most third world countries afloat. I don’t play with the tax man. I would rather challenge Conor McGregor to a bar fight. And my accountant doesn’t play around with me. He is on top of me with just enough lead time to allow him to hit his deadlines. No excuses.
I take great comfort in having this particular accountant. Someone to watch over me.
Meet Bob. My hero.
Now I must mention that Bob is half the size as he was the last time I saw him. And that is good because I need him to live forever without having to zap him with the . . . . well, never mind.
I enjoy stopping by the office where – after handing him that latest year’s files, forms and schedules with a litany of excuses for making his work so difficult – I usually spend a half-hour shooting the shit with Bob, catching up on both our lives while he scans the files. It’s fun occasionally talking to humans who understand your insanity. Then occasionally I get to gossip with Bob’s lovely wife, Renee, and with whatever assistants, past and present, are within ear shot. I’m quite certain that all of the profanity that passes through that office comes and goes with me.
Unfortunately Renee was out of the office yesterday.
However, Bob’s present assistant, Cathy, is a lovely human being whom I’ve never met before. Absolutely charming. And she loves to read. So, of course, I entertained her with a taste of my profane laced insanity.
Then, after a couple of Bro-Hugs and my public declaration of undying love for Bob, my hero, I said farewell to Cathy.
I told Cathy as I exited the door that when I come back with Lisa to sign the forms in a few weeks, I would bring her an inscribed copy of TWA.
Well Cathy surprised me by requesting that I instead inscribe it to her daughter, Autumn, who is soon – next week – to be 18 years old and has been a devoted reader since childhood. That kind of motherly selflessness impressed me.
I said goodbye and headed South on 287 from Loveland back to Berthoud. The ride is always scenic and pleasant.
I was feeling pretty good (in fact, quite relieved) knowing I had completed my tedious part of the tax equation and that Bob would take care of everything else necessary to get everything filed. He’s a mensch.
Thank you Bob!
And I thought about how proud Bob’s assistant, Cathy, was of her daughter, Autumn, who would be turning 18 and graduating from high school. That’s the gravy of parenthood. Pride in the successful offspring. And Autumn is a reader. Extra points for that.
I arrived back at Casa Claire and reported it all to the wife, who told me I needed to drive right back up there with a complete set of books, so that Autumn would have them for her birthday on the 25th.
Who needs a conscience or soul when you have a wife.
Of course, after 4 plus decades, you know when not to argue – the failsafe is NEVER – so I did (didn’t) do just that. Twenty minutes later Cathy and I and the now each inscribed complete set of The Claire Saga – to Autumn on her 18th Birthday – posed for a photo in Bob’s office.
So, Happy Birthday Autumn. Make sure you tell all of your cool literate high school and college bound friends how much you enjoy the books. Tell them if they buy a paperback, you can get it inscribed for them. Just text me. My number is on the back cover of TWA.
A youth following is the only way I’ll ever catch up to JRRT or JKR on the literary cult level. Word of mouth. One book at a time.
And so an industrious Thursday now turns over control of this Druid’s life to a magical Friday.
I do hope you fine, five readers have gotten the worst of your respective work weeks behind you, so you can dilly dally for a few morning hours at your desks before sneaking out at lunch time to begin the weekend.
I have to see to sorting out this computer.
And no matter what else you get up to, let us all make today a great one.
