KipK: a national tradition

Over the period of time since they were invented and since there was a deadline imposed, filing your taxes has become a national institution and an April 15th tradition (except, of course, for those in the small, very vocal and only slightly irritating minority of filers who file early).

While most/all of the people preparing their taxes complain and commiserate with co-workers, friends, neighbors and relatives, I think deep down (really deep down), there is at least a little bit of "we're all in this together" that if it is not satisfying is certainly at least a bitter sweet relationship we carry with us.

Some years, there are refunds and the race is on to file as early as possible to get a refund of . . . uhm, . . . my money back. Yeah, when a person gets a refund, it takes a very clear head not to see it as free money and go out and immediately spend it on something at least semi frivolous (in my opinion, anyway).

The best kind of a refund is the surprise refund. This happens when the taxpayer/preparer thinks that this year he/she is definitely going to be paying something, probably an amount that is at least noticeable if not slightly painful. He is filling out the forms, mentally adding and subtracting interest earned, charitable donations and calculating the number of dependents times the new, higher deduction amount for each dependent.

All these numbers, calculations, additions and subtractions finally clear up as the taxes owed is determined and the taxes paid is written (entered) on the appropriate line, and . . . taxes paid is more than taxes owed and the concourses of angelic singers begin their "Hallelujahs!" The tax payer stands, raises his arms into the air in triumph, the conquering hero, the Nobel Peace Prize winner, the champion of the world. I've been there and tasted that sweet, intoxicating elixir of success and prosperity.

Then, there is the flip side, where as you are going through the calculations, you get a heavy, almost atmospheric pressure like feeling that the world is not going to be your oyster this year. You continue to add and subtract, you wonder how much the donated sweaters were actually worth and what the donation value should really be, and how the government hasn't ever walked a mile in your income producing, family and community supporting, American as baseball, apple pie a la mode and Chevrolet shoes and if they had, even for a moment, they would be more careful in spending your hard earned dollars.

Of course, there eventually comes the time when the same calculation which elated you last year and which will not elate you this year has to be recorded and finalized, the final tally, the losing score, the indignant blow to your psyche (okay, a bit over the top, but I was on a semi-roll). En fin, there are no raised arms, no imagined cheers from the adoring crowd, just a sigh of resignation and relief, a move to get the check book and send more of those hard earned dollars to do their duty.

And then . . . and then . . . your tax triumph/disaster becomes a water cooler story and is gone. Another year, another filing.

Let's go play golf (because another sign of the tax filing deadline is better weather).