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--> --> April 25: A not so ba-a-a-ad day at Tax Rock I'm a little light in the pockets but I survived. As in biblical times, I packed up the family, loaded the burro down with supplies, and went off to pay my taxes, rendering unto the IRS all that is the IRS's. It was a lot. Mind you, for a journalist, a lot isn't a lot to a lot (of folks). But if an iMac was selling for 20 bucks, a journalist would have trouble making the down payment on the mouse. We didn't get into this biz for the bucks. Most of us got into it because we didn't know how to do important things, like: change a tire, neurosurgery, crop dust, teach, learn, hammer, embalm or speak in public. But I digress. There he is, Mr. Taxpayer April 15 came and went, and nearly took a few of us with it. We're lucky, I suppose, to have the opportunities that exist in this land. It's nice to have national parks, soft toilet paper, central heat & air, automatic transmissions, milk from 0 percent to whole, Webers, Miss America pageants, rock and roll, spandex. But don't include TurboTax. This soporific piece of software sells for only $49.99 and it takes on a 1040 form like Sherman on Atlanta. It says so right on the box (I paraphrase only slightly.) There was a time when $49.99 could get you two tax preparers and still leave enough money for lunch (a business lunch no less, tax deductible.) Still, for Shermanesque reasons, I was willing to pony up. As it happened, the fact that I tackled the job on April 14 contributed to my spenddrift ways. Jack up the Turbo But, much like the manner in which automakers mount a tire jack in modern cars in such a way that a mechanically disadvantaged chap like myself can't access it, local stores no longer stock TurboTax for Mac computers. Can you guess? Right. I have a Mac. The nearest software outlet that stocked Turbo-Mac was Brunswick, Maine. I've been to Brunswick - having crossed up all vacation migration patterns by spending Christmas week there when I was young, foolish, impressionable, but mainly foolish, from my place of residence in Florida. Maine is not a nice place in the winter, and I learned my lesson. I wasn't going to chance it in April, either, tax deadline or no. But I had all the pamphlets and instructions, so I brought in supplies - including Cheetos, bagel dogs, Pepsi, pencils, calculator, comfortable shoes - and went after it. Page One of the 1040 form is a breeze. I can spell the names of all my family members - those deductible devils - and have all our social security numbers pinned on the office wall for immediate reference. Then there's the money we made, except for the gambling largess that resides under the mattress, interest income (highly uninteresting), etc. Into the shadow of debt Page Two, everything changes. Like the dark shadow of an alien planet invading our gravitational system, the itemizing of deductions loom. One pass and any idiot can tell that the U.S. Tax Code - which has three times as many words as the Bible - did not intend to take me to the poor house, but that's where I'm headed. Or so it appeared on the first pass. Next, the envelope gets pushed. "Did you work in the farm business in 2001?" This is worth exploring, I say. I know a little about farm subsidies, and all the ways the government will help you out to NOT grow or raise certain things. And since the question was so innocently asked, and since it appeared in the Itemized Deductions section, and since my first pass nearly caused me to pass out, I ran down to Billings field, put a piece of straw in my teeth, and went into the farm business. There were plenty of choices, but after grave deliberation, I chose to be a sheep farmer. Unfortunately, due to conditions in the 2001 market - the fact that mutton consumption was off and shearing equipment was up - I decided to NOT raise sheep. Why not? I'm in the business. Mutton, honey It helped out a lot on that bottom line. I was able to settle up with the IRS, and didn't have any sheep manure or stinky wool to deal with. I highly recommend sheep ranching. It's gratifying, and ewe get a warm, fuzzy feeling pulling the wool over Uncle Sam's eyes. Larry Berteau is editor of the Tidings. Email your... Technical questions & comments to: WebMaster Daily Tidings editorial comments & questions to: Editor Visit our other Oregon Newspapers... | Albany Democrat-Herald | Ashland Daily Tidings | Corvallis Gazette-Times | | Lebanon Express | Newport News-Times | Springfield News | Cottage Grove Sentinel | Ashland Daily Tidings 1661 Siskiyou Blvd. Ashland, OR 97520 Telephone 541-482-3456 © Copyright 2001 Lee Northwest Publishing