Taxes, and a Puzzle

I had to pay in this year on my taxes, thanks to the unintended consequences of working 3 jobs. Soon this kind of complexity will be a thing of the past!

While I was preparing to write my check (ouch!), I happened to notice some interesting language on the instructions page that went with my payment coupon.

Seriously?

I find it hard to believe that those $100 million checks are frequent enough that they need to devote an entire paragraph to it.

Must've been a slow day in the Forms Department that day.

That's All

My money has returned to my bank account and all's right with the world, sort of.

I'm fully aware that in the hierarchy of crimes, this was a fairly painless, low intensity event. It would be far worse to have a smash and grab to my car or a break-in at home, or something that threatened my personal safety. Many of my friends, in sympathy, related their own stories and theirs were worse: much more money missing, car windows broken out, a purse with keys, cards, i.d.s and sentimental photos that were never recovered. I'm lucky, really.

I will be more careful in the future. My plan is to start using a credit card instead of a debit card, when needed. That way the next thief won't get very far, and even if she/he does, it won't be my actual cash money.

I'm reminded that a former boss used to encourage me to always take advantage of access to what he called Other People's Money. Mortgages, loans, credit cards -- used wisely -- put OPM at risk, not your personal assets. Better yet, he said, get people to invest in your project of their own volition, so if it goes south they have no one to blame but themselves, and you haven't lost a dime.

Frankly, I've never been that interested in that kind of wheeler dealer approach, so I never took it seriously, and still don't, really. I will, however, be a little more careful with MY money from now on.

On a related note, I talked to our IT guy at work and he added another layer of craziness to the "It can happen about 100 ways" without the card ever leaving your possession. He says thieves can carry a scanner that will read your info right off your card, while your card remains in your wallet, from 6 to 8 feet away! So that guy standing on the other side of the gas pump? Or the lady behind you in the grocery line? They could be stealing your information. Including your driver's license info.

The IT guy topped off his story by pulling out his wallet and showing me that his is made out of metal, which shields his credit card info. Yes, they make card shielding wallets.

It makes me think of Superman, for some reason. Wallet of Steel, anyone?

Catch-Up Weekend

After traveling last week for work, I spent the weekend trying to put things in order again. A lot of laundry, a much-needed paperwork purge (really, do I still need to be saving my tax return from 1995?), a little bookshelf refresh, a few hours in the kitchen, a home-cooked meal, and I'm ready to face the week!

The first order of business today is a trip to the bank. This is not a good thing. Someone filched my debit card info and had a fine old time on my dime. By the time I noticed, there was quite a bit of impact to my account. The fraud hotline at the bank assures me I'll get the money back, but it's still pretty upsetting. Even more creepy: the card never left my possession, except of course for occasional restaurant use. If I hadn't been checking my account online, I'd never have known anything was wrong. You can bet I'll be rethinking my financial strategy after this.

Doing some gardening is a nice antidote for this kind of news. I visited a new nursery, where they had lots of native plants, and did some planting.

I'm slowly transforming my yard from a fairly typical piecemeal older home landscape (mostly grass, with a few awesome mature trees and shrubs, plus assorted odds and ends that look like they came from someone's leftover terrarium) into what I envision as a diverse and welcoming haven for birds, lizards, butterflies, and assorted other small creatures.

That means flowers and berries and natives in particular (mostly). One of the nice things about using natives is that any "volunteers" fit right in, instead of being considered weeds. I try to keep things orderly, but I don't take it too seriously.

(The red sage is a native, and it will spread like crazy. The other one is last year's poinsettia, which seems to like its new home very much. It has doubled in size, although I think it gets too much night-time light to ever turn red again.)  

I must be doing something right, because just today I saw three different kinds of butterflies. I hope they are staying around long enough to lay eggs, because I have intentionally included lots of host plants for caterpillars to munch on. One tiny paradise, coming up. 

Book Lust

C.S. is in Philadelphia and, naturally, that means he's hitting the bookstores in that area. One sign he's a serious bibliophile: he doesn't need a car to get around . . . except he rented one so he could get a few miles north of the city, where the best bookstore is located. Mission accomplished, he returned the car a few short hours later.

He did, however, resist buying me a very scarce title for my Booker collection: Newby's Something to Answer For. This is one of the quest books on my list, one I've never even seen. Even with the money he saved on the rental car, $300 was just too steep, even for a perfect copy.

Of course, I do have a birthday coming up . . . . I'd be willing to give up my Christmas present, too. At that price, I might have to! Isn't that just way too much money to pay for a book?

Random Thoughts and Updates

My census came! After whetting my appetite with a warning letter, the census people disappointed me with the bareness of information they wanted. Practically every answer was a number: how many people, age, birthdate, etc. No questions that required any thought whatsoever. Boring. With this kind of information, it's no wonder my government has a tendency to spew money in all directions without solving any problems.

I'm one of those people who believes there is always an answer (and often, many answers!) beyond "Yes" and "No." This is why I am miserable at True/False quizzes and not so hot with the Multiple Choicers, either.

The census people sent me a follow-up postcard, too, reminding me rather menacingly that "Your response to the U.S. Census Bureau is required by law." Not sure how effective this would have been if I'd already thrown the census away, but I'm going to stop worrying about all that now. I mailed it yesterday, so there.

Speaking of money, I have to pay in on my taxes this year. Phooey. I'd much rather get money back, even though I understand why that's a bad idea. It just seems more sporting for them to write me a check, rather than vice versa.

Signs of spring abound these days. Strawberries are in season and I am eating them by the bowlful. I may have to make a shortcake this weekend, just to make it official. The azaleas are blooming and baby squirrels, fresh from the nest, are everywhere. This afternoon I was surprised to see a young male cardinal flying around the parking lot when I returned from lunch. Usually they stick to the bushes, but this guy made several passes while I was hiking in from the distant lot where I'd parked my car. As I got closer to him, I noticed he was spending a lot of time perched on the side mirror of a particular car. Apparently he'd spotted a handsome male trespasser, right there in the mirror, and was doing his best to drive him away. All bluster and no brain.

And speaking of that, why does my mind have a vast area dedicated to useless trivia, but allot only the darkest corners to things that might actually be useful? Thus I can effortlessly enter a discussion about a catapult competition by inquiring "Was the Yankee Siege there?" but determining how many faculty mailboxes there are at my school requires way too many seconds of slow calculation to decide that 14 x 4 is the same as 7 x 8.

Isn't it?

Success at the Book Fair

For the second year in a row, C.S. and I took in the Florida Antiquarian Book Fair in St. Petersburg.

Last year the shock value was greater. We were wowed by all those great (expensive!) books in such a beautiful setting. This year, we knew what to expect. We came prepared with our lists and a few fistfuls of cash money.

You can just barely see it in this picture, but on the bottom of the steps that come down from the second floor, there was a guy sitting there reading. I guess he couldn't wait til he got home.

The Coliseum is lovely inside, especially when it's filled with books, prints, and some other collectible ephemera.

This is right across the street, and they offer free lessons, but we didn't have time to check it out. Too bad.

When I got back from taking the exterior picture of the Coliseum and the Lawn Bowling Club, C.S. was admiring his purchase. It's on his National Book Award finalists list, and he's never seen a copy before, anytime, anywhere, much less a first edition copy in such excellent condition.

I guess he couldn't wait til he got home, either.

Come to think of it, neither could I. Here's a pristine hardback copy of the Canadian edition of The English Patient, an upgrade for my Booker collection.

And this is an $8 beauty that will make a fun gift for a friend of mine who is quite the cowgirl. I remember reading this book--Smoky, the Cow Horse--as a kid. Now it offers a jolt of nostalgia, courtesy of Will James, a funky cover (no dust jacket), and some color plates mixed in with the black and white illustrations.

In case you are wondering, no, C.S. did not bring home any of the book money he took along, although he did stay within budget (barely).

As for me, I am very pleased with my purchases but my socks didn't get knocked off. You could say I had a fairly typical shopping experience: When I have cash money, I hardly ever spend it all.

It's when I don't have any money that the really tempting stuff shows up.

Shopping is Fun

The joys of shopping aren't news to most people, but I tend to be rather frugal on anything except books, so a splurge is quite the rush for me. Here's how I learned this most recently:

A simply wonderful tote bag that I acquired through my blog buddy Oreneta, from Spain by way of Canada. Her help with that purchase was definitely above and beyond the call of bloggery and I'm still in her debt.

The bag is made from repurposed advertising posters in kind of a laminated fabric. I feel terribly hip and eco-friendly whenever I carry it, even if all I'm wearing is the same old t-shirt and jeans. The two sides are so different, it's like having two different bags. And check out the interesting horse, too! How perfect is that? Look for me in the pages of In Style any day now.

Warm fleecy slippers from L.L. Bean. We have had an unusually cold winter and I finally decided socks alone just weren't cutting it. Now all I can say is, man, I should have bought these back in November. Warm feet make the rest of the body happy as well.

"Needs" for my horse hobby include an appropriate piece of non-flattering headgear and even less flattering riding pants. But the helmet was on sale and I scored these brand new breeches at a sidewalk sale for $25, marked down from $90. I'll get good use out of both of them. Trust me.

Last but not least: When C.S. was here this week, we made a pilgrimage to Ikea, one of the few stores that we completely agree is worth spending hours just browsing in. I splurged on a $7 closet organizer and I figure this little gem saves me about $250 on a dresser. It also saves me from keeping my unmentionables in a drawer in the living room. And that's a good thing.

Banking Thoughts

I've been doing the on-line bill pay thing for a while now, and I've decided I don't like it.

Yes, it's cheaper. Yes, it saves having to buy stamps. Yes, it saves trees and gasoline (perhaps offset by the fact that all bills still arrive with an envelope which I don't use, meaning more trash or more recycling). I haven't made the leap to getting my bills by e-mail yet; the few statements and notices that do arrive by e-mail tend to get ignored.

But I don't find it quicker. It doesn't save on record-keeping, because I still have to log the payments and record the transaction numbers.

Maybe my problem is that I'm only semi-automated. But I don't think I want to go further. In fact, I want to go back to the old way, with checks and stamps and envelopes. I miss the sensation of closure that comes with dropping a handful of envelopes into the mailbox with a satisfying clunk. Clicking a button can't match that feeling.

And more automation is definitely not the cure for the underlying problem: On-line is just too darn slick. I don't feel like I'm in touch with my money anymore. I know I'm lucky to have it. But it comes in electronically, and I send it out electronically, and even when it's still in my account (not for long!), it doesn't seem real.

Or am I just weird?

Library Book Sale

Speaking of accumulating things . . . . In confirmation of C.S.'s observation that I own a boatload of books, a few more have entered my collection, thanks to a book sale at the local library branch.

My fellow browsers and I noticed right away that although the tables were loaded, there were several unpacked boxes of books lurking under the tables. With permission, we unloaded them ourselves, leaving no stone unturned.

If you ask me, there were way too many Nora Robertses and John Grishams in the sale, and far too few award winners, but that didn't stop me from finding a few books I just couldn't live without.

Weekdays Are Quick Meals, Time-Life Books. Comfort food with modern twists and common ingredients, taking 30 minutes or less to prepare. I don't cook full meals all that often, but I sure love reading about it! And when the mood strikes, having references readily at hand is a good thing. (Paperback, $1.50.)

The Consolations of Philosophy, Alain de Botton. A near-fine first edition of a book that draws lightly on the foundational philosophers to address common psychological challenges, such as how Socrates can help us cope with unpopularity and how Seneca addresses frustration.

In the kind of serendipity I just adore, the author's previous book was called How Proust Can Change Your Life, and I'm reading and thoroughly enjoying Proust for the first time right now. What a sublime coincidence! (Hardback, first edition, $3.00. Abe.com suggests this book is worth $15.00-$24.00, a nice plus.)

Great Expectations, Charles Dickens. I bought this one for sentiment alone, although I have been planning to read it someday. It was one of the books discovered in the unpacked boxes. What a great old book, in the way that I like them: the smell of old paper (and not a whiff of mildew!), sunned so that the spine bears no lettering anymore, pages toned with age.

It intrigued me because there was no publication information whatsoever, except "The Book League of America, New York." No date, no copyright info, nothing.

Even more motivating was the horrible thought that such a handsome classic might be discarded if it didn't go home with me. You can guess what happened next. (Hardback, no dust jacket, $3.00. Abe.com reveals it's probably worth $7.00 or so, not that I'll ever part with it.)

Crossing My Fingers

I'm taking Eve into the shop today because she is making a funny noise. I'm sure the service guy gets a headache when he talks to me, because I always have these weird descriptions of my complaints. This time it's that the car "sounds like a truck." It's tire noise, not engine noise, if that helps. Surely he knows what this means?

I'm trying to think positively: it's a problem that can be solved by rotating the tires (which I need to do anyway) and doesn't involve spending hundreds of dollars on something like, say, new wheel bearings.

I love Eve and she is a fine little car, but we're approaching the point where I may have to start putting some money into her. Meaning, she's almost paid off and closing in on 80,000 miles. I don't mind spending a little money, really I don't. I just don't want to start right now.

If you have any good thoughts to spare, please send them her way! And maybe a few for the service guy, too.

This Time, Not So Much

Oh, my heart was going pitter pat when I opened the latest swap book that arrived in the mail and saw this practically pristine copy of Larry's Party, a hardback upgrade for my Orange Prize collection.

I was holding my breath as I peeked inside and saw that yes, it's a first edition!

I may even have felt a few tremors in my fingers when I checked abe.com to see what a fine/fine copy of the first edition is worth.

I got a good laugh about it, too. This baby is worth . . . can you guess? . . . $1.00.

This time the joke's on me!

(Can you tell I also collect souvenir pencils?)

In the Mail

Outgoing: My tax return. Yes, I'm retro enough that I still file the old-fashioned way, complete with a return receipt to prove it arrived.

This year, ouch. I had to pay in for the first time in many years, thanks to my progression from student to unemployed to working status during 2008. Goodbye to all that variability for 2009 (touch wood)!

Incoming: This fabulous hardback copy of another Booker winner for my collection, courtesy of Paperbackswap.com (and therefore mine in exchange for a book I no longer wanted and the cost of postage). It's a first American edition, and I'd wager it's never been read. The mylar cover was included.

A little research reveals this to be a $55-$75 book. Talk about a day-brightener!

Numbers and Nostalgia

Social Security sent me my statement this week. It's pretty sobering to see all those numbers lined up neatly. Have I really been working for that many years?

It's also a nice dose of nostalgia.

In 1978, I made $714. That was my summer job at Walgreen's drugstore. I wasn't a very good cashier. This was when prices were marked on stickers and you had to know what was on sale, before bar codes helped the computer do everything for you. I think I was probably the Queen of the Overrings, because customers were constantly pointing out which items were on sale AFTER I'd already punched in the prices. But I loved stocking the shelves. Every day at my break, I would go into the lunch counter section of the store, have a seat in a back booth, and devour a York Peppermint Pattie with a glass of ice water with crushed ice. I knew all about the feeling of "cool and refreshing" way before that ad campaign.

In 1982, I made $11,428. I remember at my job interview asking to make $12,000. I thought $1,000 a month was a ton of money. I didn't get it. Instead I got $150 a week, which meant that a few months later, when I bought my first car, I had to make sure I had a little left over from the previous week's paycheck in order to cover the payment. The car payment was $169 a month.

In 1983, I made $12,305. I worked two jobs to do it, too: full-time at a law office and part-time at a chain bookstore. I think I spent all my bookstore earnings on books--there was always a stack of Save for Payday books under the front counter--but I managed to support myself. It was a great job.

The bookstore staff kept track of two specific types of customers and we would report to each other when we'd added another one to the running tally. One was the customer who came in to say "I'm looking for a book. I don't know the title or the author's name, and I'm not sure what it's about. But the author is a man, and he was on Merv Griffin today, and it has a blue cover." Talk about the power of marketing! Might as well say, "It was on t.v., so I want it." We always enjoyed that one.

The other customer type was the person who bought The Joy of Sex. As an aside, we were always finding that book in other sections of the store, no doubt due to the large numbers of teens hanging out at the mall. In general, we considered it a public service to make such information fairly readily available, but we used to break up any groups that laughed or talked too loudly in the Sports section. That was often a sign that they weren't reading the sports books. All it took was a little shelf-straightening nearby for them to disperse with their new knowledge.

Anyway, adults who bought The Joy of Sex were usually female and consistently felt the need to explain conspiratorially: "It's for a bridal shower." Trust me, bookstore clerks don't care what you buy. (When you've sold "Hustler" to someone who looks like your grandfather, you're not easily shocked.) But we noticed that people were a little embarrassed to be buying that book. One night when I was feeling particularly bold, and the lady delivered her explanation, I whispered back, "Yeah, that's what everyone says." Fortunately, she thought my comment was very funny.

Life sure was different way back when.

Wine and Books in a Down Economy

As the major leaguers I'm assigned to cover were taking practice swings earlier this afternoon, I had an interesting discussion with one of the coaches as we stood behind the batting cage. I mean, I can't remember the last time I discussed wine with anyone at the same time singles and homers were being struck a few feet away. But there we were, talking about a particular cabernet that the manager had recommended the day before. He told me that the bottle was moderately priced, under $20. But when I found it at the store for $26, I took a pass. I drew the line. It was too expensive for my taste

"That," said the assistant coach, overhearing our conversation, "is exactly what's wrong with the economy. People like you, worrying over six bucks, is why we're in the mess we're in."

I had a notion at that instant to mention that I did my degree work in economics, and knew a little something about the subject, but decided to bite my tongue and go on. Six bucks does matter. It matters an awful lot to those making the mininum wage of $7.25/hour. And it matters to anyone who is trying to act prudently in the current economy.

Never mind the bottle of wine. That's easy enough for me to do without. I've decided for now to cut back in an area dear to my heart, my quest to collect first edition copies of the National Book Award winners and finalists. From now on, at least until the economy improves, I'll go back to reading cheaper paperbacks and wait for the economic climate to improve before returning to expensive hardbacks.

It only makes sense.

Thanks, Loudon

There's no reason for this song to cheer me up, given its subject matter, but for some reason it does. I think it's because just when I think there can't possibly be another rhyme for "song," Loudon Wainwright III comes up with one. He sure can turn a phrase.

The Dylan allusion helps, too.

For once the economy has made me smile.

There's Always Money for Books

I have been tiptoeing around, financially speaking, for about a month now, knowing that in February I will have the pleasure of starting to pay back the money I borrowed for law school. It was pretty easy to borrow, I must say. Waiting to hear the monthly payment number has not been so easy. With a 6-month grace period, an uncomfortably long wait for reliable employment, some juggling of the repayment terms, and consideration of whether I qualified for any kind of reduction or further deferment, I never knew the exact payment amount until just a few days ago. Tonight I reformulated my budget, and wonder of wonders, I may actually be able to pay it!

I'm only half joking about being "fortunate" enough to pay. Quite a few of my fellow graduates have not found work, which must be truly excruciating. Even the fact that loans can be completely deferred doesn't ease the pain of hard work and high achievement in law school for 3 or 4 years, followed by the discovery that the market for new lawyers has dried up. So I am fully aware that I am darn lucky to be able to make payments. As for the fact that I'll enjoy this privilege for the rest of my life . . . so what? It's only money.

Speaking of enjoyment, C.S. and I enjoyed a whirlwind trip to St. Petersburg that contained many of our favorite things:

1. Two wonderful bookstores (Haslam's New & Used Books and Mojo Books & Music--and let me just say, their websites are totally inadequate for communicating how fabulous they both are!);

2. Two memorably low-key and delicious meals (Junior's Diner for breakfast before we hit the road, where we had the Best Bacon-Eggs-Sausage-Pancakes-Biscuits & Gravy Breakfast Ever, cooked by Junior himself, and El Cap's for a burger and fries lunch after we arrived); and

3. A late night drink at the historic, beautiful Vinoy hotel bar. (These are Marriott promotional photos, not taken by me--though I wish they were!)

And no, there was nothing creepy about the hotel at all. We stayed on the mezzanine level and although I generally think mezzanines are prime territory for spooky occurrences (something about being between floors), I never had a scary moment. If I had to guess, any ghosts are pleased to see the old place bustling with activity and looking so good (Marriott photo, again). The lobby includes a very professionally presented history of the hotel, from its heyday in the 1920's, its slow slide into total disrepair in the 1970's (room rates fell to $7.00 per night before it was shuttered and nearly abandoned to demolition), and its multi-million dollar restoration to its former glory in the 1990's.

I managed to escape without buying any touristy souvenirs, but I scooped up a trio of nice books: a new copy of The Gathering (the 2007 Man Booker winner) at Haslam's and two trade paperback-to-hardcover upgrades at Mojo, The Feast of Love and The Blind Assassin, both in "fine" condition for $8.99 each. No matter what twists and turns my budget takes, there's always money for books!

Small Increments

C.S. and I have been talking about the economy lately, and it's safe to say we share the worries of most people about bailouts, layoffs, and the rest of it. On his first trip to Vegas, C.S. believes they are hurting because everything is accessible at a deep discount, even "hot ticket" items such as last-minute access to the De La Hoya-Pacquiao boxing match. I'll leave it to C.S. to post his other impressions of the gambling/foreclosure/suicide capital of the world.

Meanwhile, I saw two signs of the economic impact in my own life yesterday, and I should probably be counting my blessings there were only two! The first sign was when I called in my pledge to my local NPR station (and if you're like me and listen all the time, please do your part -- they will happily take any amount, even if you can't spare the cost of a full membership). I had carefully waited until there was a challenge grant in play: for every pledge during the rush hour, a donor had promised to add $50 to the pledged amount. Through this magic my measly $30 was turned into $80 and I was proud of my timing. After I gave my information, the woman asked me if I would be willing to increase my pledge by $10 to show my commitment to public radio. Of course, I immediately thought that I could easily spend $10 on lunch one day (giving up fast food can be costly) and so I agreed. In retrospect, if they could get every caller to increase their pledge by just $10, that could really add up. It's a great strategy.

A similar thing happened at lunch (where I was not spending $10, because I had already spent it!). At the card store, the cashier informed me that if I spent $3 more, she could use a coupon to give me $5 off, and I had already looked at and put back several impulse buy items that I figured I really didn't need. So of course I tipped over the spending edge easily and spent another $2.95, she fudged the nickle, and I walked out with one more item of inventory that Hallmark doesn't have to unload at a deep discount after the holidays. Again, smart marketing, to squeeze that little bit extra out of the person who is already buying.

I think it's safe to say that I'm doing my part for the economy . . . not to mention being thankful every day that I have a job that I love, when so many people do not.