I started my taxes a month ago, they have been sitting on my desk ever since. But, I'm glad for that because today I learned that I will pay $60 less in tax than I thought I would.
This is the year that our wonderful government is going to allow us credit for the Federal Telephone Excise Tax paid since 2003. My Dad told me about it this morning and I am jacked (no pun intended) about collecting more some cash from the phone companies thru the feds.
Let me give you some history about the tax: In April of 1898, the USS Maine exploded and sunk.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Maine_%28ACR-1%29
This got us really mad at because the USS Maine was like a really really nice boat. We didn't really know that Spain caused the sinking, we just needed someone to lash out at. So, we declared war on Spain. This is what started the Spanish American War. It ignited the rallying cry "Remember the Maine! It was a really nice expensive boat!". We've learned a lot since then and we would never lash out in a fit of war against another country with limited information. Anyway, because of the war, the government needed money because they must have used 30 days same as cash to pay for the boat. So, they instituted a tax on telephone service to finance the Spanish American War. Back in 1898 a tax on telephone service was largely targeted on the rich people who had phones.
Well, this must have been an expensive war because the tax still remains today. If you look on a phone bill and it lists "Federal Excise Tax" you are still paying a 3% tax on your long distance charges. However, the Treasury Dept. will stop billing it after August 1 and you can file for a refund of all tax paid after March 1st 2003. YAY!
http://www.usatoday.com/money/industries/telecom/2006-05-25-phone-tax_x.htm
You can do this by filling out a form 8913 and list all the tax you paid since March 1st. You even get interest back on the money. But, my OCD isn't bad enough to cause me to keep all my phone bills since 2003. I probably burned my 2003 phone bills a few months ago. The form is also very involved and involves square roots, signatures in triplicate and a sprinkling of Holy Water. So, if you don't have all your records, there's a standard amount that you receive based on the number of dependants you claim and you don't have to fill out a 8913.
If this blog was funny, it's probably lost all it's humor by now so I think I'll just shift my mission to get the word out and make sure you get the cash you deserve. So, please do one of the following for me:
* Fill out a form 8913 if you have all your phone bills from March 1st, 2003. Add up all the Federal Excise Tax you paid on your phone bill for each year and add the interest according to their calculation.
or:
* The easier way is to take the standard amount. Make sure you include in your tax form which is the following:
0 dependants $0 (calculate it according to form 8913 from whatever phone bills you have)
1 dependant $30
2 dependants $40
3 dependants $50
4 or more dependants $60
You or your tax person should put this amount on form 1040 line 71, form 1040A line 42 or form 1040EZ line 9. You could theoretically refile your taxes if you forgot this or weren't aware. *
That's your way of telling the government, Ma Bell and Spain to go and poo on themselves.
Remember the Maine!
*Always consult your tax professional. Mike is in no way, shape or form a tax professional and shall be held harmless of any financial ruin or emotional trauma caused by seeking a refund for Federal Excise Tax. Do not operate heavy machinery or attempt to drive a car while filling out a form 8913. Stunt driver on a closed course. Do not attempt.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Life not like errors
I goofed up two letters at work and it cost me at least 12 hours of my life.
Ya see, I have this thing I do every quarter called the greenbar schedule. It's green...with bars. Except the bars are grey, so it should be called the greybar schedule. Go figure.
Anyway, when the greenbar schedule came for spring quarter there was a "MW" where there should have been a "TR", so I crossed out "MW" and wrote in "TR". Llana has a photocopy to prove it.
After I put together the schedule of some 75 or so courses it gets handed off to registration where goes through a rigorous process using a special technique called "looking". The looked at changes are then entered into a computer and then whammo! The schedule is born and ready for public consumption.
I have so much faith in this process that I guess I didn't double-check enough to make sure my "MW" was properly looked to a "TR".
*And it wasn't. Poo.*
So, guess what? People saw the "MW" and signed up for "MW" even though the instructor and I thought it was "TR". Guess what day yesterday was? Yesterday was "M"! And people showed up expecting something on "M" and nothing happened cus we all thought it was happening on "T".
*This made them "PO'd". And they called my office...a lot*
So, today I spent the better part of 8am-7:30pm talking to people on the phone seeing if they could settle for TR. It turns out a lot of them can't and they said snotty things to me and it sorta makes me PO'd not only at myself but at them.
Ya know what really stings? If you take the average of "T" and "R" you get "S" and if you take the average of "M" and "W" you also get "S". Therefore, MW and TR are almost like the same thing.
So, what's the moral of the story? Check your greenbars carefully. And know this; life doesn't carry much forgiveness. One slip of your actions and you could tarnish someone's image of you or hurt their feelings. One slip of a letter on your greenbar and you're calling PO'd people all day.
We need more Mulligans in life.
Ya see, I have this thing I do every quarter called the greenbar schedule. It's green...with bars. Except the bars are grey, so it should be called the greybar schedule. Go figure.
Anyway, when the greenbar schedule came for spring quarter there was a "MW" where there should have been a "TR", so I crossed out "MW" and wrote in "TR". Llana has a photocopy to prove it.
After I put together the schedule of some 75 or so courses it gets handed off to registration where goes through a rigorous process using a special technique called "looking". The looked at changes are then entered into a computer and then whammo! The schedule is born and ready for public consumption.
I have so much faith in this process that I guess I didn't double-check enough to make sure my "MW" was properly looked to a "TR".
*And it wasn't. Poo.*
So, guess what? People saw the "MW" and signed up for "MW" even though the instructor and I thought it was "TR". Guess what day yesterday was? Yesterday was "M"! And people showed up expecting something on "M" and nothing happened cus we all thought it was happening on "T".
*This made them "PO'd". And they called my office...a lot*
So, today I spent the better part of 8am-7:30pm talking to people on the phone seeing if they could settle for TR. It turns out a lot of them can't and they said snotty things to me and it sorta makes me PO'd not only at myself but at them.
Ya know what really stings? If you take the average of "T" and "R" you get "S" and if you take the average of "M" and "W" you also get "S". Therefore, MW and TR are almost like the same thing.
So, what's the moral of the story? Check your greenbars carefully. And know this; life doesn't carry much forgiveness. One slip of your actions and you could tarnish someone's image of you or hurt their feelings. One slip of a letter on your greenbar and you're calling PO'd people all day.
We need more Mulligans in life.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
St. Leon Road Race
This weekend will mark the start of March Madness for me. That is, it will be the start of the cycling road racing season.
Sunday is the St. Leon road race in St. Leon, Indiana. St. Leon is a very sleepy little hick town that I have grown to love primarily because of this race and a guy named Jason and his posse.
Let me set the story for you. Two years ago: I did this race and fell in love with the course. It's a 15 mile loop you do 3-4 times. It's extremely demanding because it has a couple of very significant climbs about a mile length with twisty descents. A very good test of conditioning this early in the year.
The field's concentration was also tested that day. On the first lap, the pack of riders goes flying by this one house, and we notice these two guys sitting in lawn chairs drinking beer and watching the riders go by. As we pass they let out with a "Whooooooooo!" at full throat. About 1 lap and 45 minutes later, there's a half a dozen guys and a pile of beer cans starting to develop in the lawn. Last lap, we see a dozen guys and a very big pile of cans. From their looks, these guys are obviously not cycling fans. Dressed in overalls and work boots, these guys are just some rural 30-somethings who discovered something to do in St. Loen, Indiana. It was a hoot!
Last year: I ride in from Cincinnati with my friend Todd. As we approach the race course I say to Todd "I wonder if those partying hillbillys are going to be there this year?". As if on cue, we drive past the same house and there are already a dozen guys there drinking beer and cranking tunes. Mind you, it's 10:30am. In the lawn there's makeshift signs made of spray-painted wood boards which read "We are race fans" and "Annual Bike Race Party". Todd and I completely lost it and were even still laughing as we started our race. As we raced by, the ring leader of the group (who goes about 6 foot 5, 300 pounds) was running along the side of the road holding a beer can as if to perform a "hand off" like you see in marathons. All his buddies and many of the riders were cracking up.
After we were done with this race we were tired, sore and exhausted. But I told Todd and my friend Scott that we should ride our bikes a couple of miles down the course to the house party and say hi. So we did. The owner of the house (the guy performing the beer hand-offs) was a huge burly man named Jason. As soon as we pulled into the driveway the whole group of guys cheered and weclomed us some Busch lights from their "biker box". Lynard Skynard was cranking through a stereo system set out on the porch. At 3pm these guy has been drinking for at least 4 hours and were feeling no pain. Scott, Todd and I were treated to a makeshift beer bong made from plumbing materials. I can't remember the last time I did a beer bong.
*I mean that quite literally...the last time I did beer bongs...I don't remember...like...anything.*
Jason posed with us to take a picture. What a clash of the cultures. Here's three shave legged white collar health nuts clad in lycra posing with a big huge mountain of a man in overalls. It was awesome! We traded phone numbers, shared a couple more beers and laughs. It's a really cool feeling to know that people of such opposite cultures can get along so well with the influence of a few (ok more than a few judging by the numbers of cans in the yard) cans of beer.
On the way back to the cars Todd, Scott and I raced each other at full hammer. Safety isn't the first thing on your mind when you pound several beers on an empty stomach after a 50 mile hill-fest.
I received a call from Jason this week. This year, he's inviting more people and it should be an even larger event than last year. He plans to have a DJ or a band. I'm mildly optimistic. My conditioning is rather good for this time of the year although lately I've been indulging in the beer a little too much myself.
But, I can say this; I'm hitting the beer after the race at Jason's house. I've been waiting a year for this and I wouldn't miss this for the world.
This is March Madness.
Sunday is the St. Leon road race in St. Leon, Indiana. St. Leon is a very sleepy little hick town that I have grown to love primarily because of this race and a guy named Jason and his posse.
Let me set the story for you. Two years ago: I did this race and fell in love with the course. It's a 15 mile loop you do 3-4 times. It's extremely demanding because it has a couple of very significant climbs about a mile length with twisty descents. A very good test of conditioning this early in the year.
The field's concentration was also tested that day. On the first lap, the pack of riders goes flying by this one house, and we notice these two guys sitting in lawn chairs drinking beer and watching the riders go by. As we pass they let out with a "Whooooooooo!" at full throat. About 1 lap and 45 minutes later, there's a half a dozen guys and a pile of beer cans starting to develop in the lawn. Last lap, we see a dozen guys and a very big pile of cans. From their looks, these guys are obviously not cycling fans. Dressed in overalls and work boots, these guys are just some rural 30-somethings who discovered something to do in St. Loen, Indiana. It was a hoot!
Last year: I ride in from Cincinnati with my friend Todd. As we approach the race course I say to Todd "I wonder if those partying hillbillys are going to be there this year?". As if on cue, we drive past the same house and there are already a dozen guys there drinking beer and cranking tunes. Mind you, it's 10:30am. In the lawn there's makeshift signs made of spray-painted wood boards which read "We are race fans" and "Annual Bike Race Party". Todd and I completely lost it and were even still laughing as we started our race. As we raced by, the ring leader of the group (who goes about 6 foot 5, 300 pounds) was running along the side of the road holding a beer can as if to perform a "hand off" like you see in marathons. All his buddies and many of the riders were cracking up.
After we were done with this race we were tired, sore and exhausted. But I told Todd and my friend Scott that we should ride our bikes a couple of miles down the course to the house party and say hi. So we did. The owner of the house (the guy performing the beer hand-offs) was a huge burly man named Jason. As soon as we pulled into the driveway the whole group of guys cheered and weclomed us some Busch lights from their "biker box". Lynard Skynard was cranking through a stereo system set out on the porch. At 3pm these guy has been drinking for at least 4 hours and were feeling no pain. Scott, Todd and I were treated to a makeshift beer bong made from plumbing materials. I can't remember the last time I did a beer bong.
*I mean that quite literally...the last time I did beer bongs...I don't remember...like...anything.*
Jason posed with us to take a picture. What a clash of the cultures. Here's three shave legged white collar health nuts clad in lycra posing with a big huge mountain of a man in overalls. It was awesome! We traded phone numbers, shared a couple more beers and laughs. It's a really cool feeling to know that people of such opposite cultures can get along so well with the influence of a few (ok more than a few judging by the numbers of cans in the yard) cans of beer.
On the way back to the cars Todd, Scott and I raced each other at full hammer. Safety isn't the first thing on your mind when you pound several beers on an empty stomach after a 50 mile hill-fest.
I received a call from Jason this week. This year, he's inviting more people and it should be an even larger event than last year. He plans to have a DJ or a band. I'm mildly optimistic. My conditioning is rather good for this time of the year although lately I've been indulging in the beer a little too much myself.
But, I can say this; I'm hitting the beer after the race at Jason's house. I've been waiting a year for this and I wouldn't miss this for the world.
This is March Madness.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
My Can O' Money
I was in Kroger two days ago and I experienced a stroke of good luck. But, before I finish the second sentence of this blog I must already digress by stating a couple of observations about my neighborhood Kroger store:
1) When you first walk in to any Kroger, there is the large picture of the store manager. At the store I shop at, the manager is a person by the name of none other than "Michael Sickman". If that doesn't make you wash the produce twice, nothing will.
2) Have you ever noticed that "Kroger" spelled backward is "regork"? Coincidence? I think NOT!!!
Anyhoo, I was about the only person in there. There was only one checkout lane that was open and it happened to be empty. For once I picked the fastest line! So, while paying for my items I look down and I saw a $5 bill on the floor and so I think to myself "Dang! I just dropped $5!". I pick it up and as I do so I notice it's folded differently than I fold my money. So, I conclude the $5 is not mine but there's no rightful owner in sight to chase it down and give it to. Long story short, I feel a bit guilty for not being able to find the rightful owner but I shove it in my pocket faster that you can say "Michael is a Sickman".
*Two weeks ago I found a quarter in the parking lot, so I'm on a roll at that place*
I could have donated the money right then and there because there was one of those little clear plastic charity donation boxes for some worthy cause. But, I took the money home because...
I keep all the money I've ever found in my adult life in a special can.
This can is marked "found money" and stored in a top-secret location in the top of my closet on the upper right shelf next to some shoe boxes. Nobody will ever find it there. I counted the money in it the next morning. Including the $5 I now have a grand total of $20.44 in my "found money" can. My kids saw me counting the money and asked me if that was my piggy bank.
Here's the plan: the day before I die, I'm gonna break open my found money can and blow it ALL on something special. At this point, I could buy myself a really really nice...T-shirt, or something. Actually, I was thinking $20.44 could actually pay for something a bit nicer...like...a CUSTOMIZED T-shirt! Seeing as I plan to do this the day before I die, I think I'll ask to wear it at my wake and funeral. I'll get a T-shirt made special that says: "I DIED AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT". That might make everyone attending chuckle and then both of them could share a laugh about all the funny stuff I did when I was alive.
Yep, that's how I plan to use my money can. I plan to put it to good use to put the "fun" back in "funeral"!
1) When you first walk in to any Kroger, there is the large picture of the store manager. At the store I shop at, the manager is a person by the name of none other than "Michael Sickman". If that doesn't make you wash the produce twice, nothing will.
2) Have you ever noticed that "Kroger" spelled backward is "regork"? Coincidence? I think NOT!!!
Anyhoo, I was about the only person in there. There was only one checkout lane that was open and it happened to be empty. For once I picked the fastest line! So, while paying for my items I look down and I saw a $5 bill on the floor and so I think to myself "Dang! I just dropped $5!". I pick it up and as I do so I notice it's folded differently than I fold my money. So, I conclude the $5 is not mine but there's no rightful owner in sight to chase it down and give it to. Long story short, I feel a bit guilty for not being able to find the rightful owner but I shove it in my pocket faster that you can say "Michael is a Sickman".
*Two weeks ago I found a quarter in the parking lot, so I'm on a roll at that place*
I could have donated the money right then and there because there was one of those little clear plastic charity donation boxes for some worthy cause. But, I took the money home because...
I keep all the money I've ever found in my adult life in a special can.
This can is marked "found money" and stored in a top-secret location in the top of my closet on the upper right shelf next to some shoe boxes. Nobody will ever find it there. I counted the money in it the next morning. Including the $5 I now have a grand total of $20.44 in my "found money" can. My kids saw me counting the money and asked me if that was my piggy bank.
Here's the plan: the day before I die, I'm gonna break open my found money can and blow it ALL on something special. At this point, I could buy myself a really really nice...T-shirt, or something. Actually, I was thinking $20.44 could actually pay for something a bit nicer...like...a CUSTOMIZED T-shirt! Seeing as I plan to do this the day before I die, I think I'll ask to wear it at my wake and funeral. I'll get a T-shirt made special that says: "I DIED AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT". That might make everyone attending chuckle and then both of them could share a laugh about all the funny stuff I did when I was alive.
Yep, that's how I plan to use my money can. I plan to put it to good use to put the "fun" back in "funeral"!
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