Two days ago, I admitted to seeings things that aren't there.
Today I come clean again and admit I don't understand things that are there.
Even more embarrassing, because I come from a long line of unstoried accountants, I have a tenuous grasp on taxes and how to avoid them.
I recently discovered I made a huge mistake when rolling over my late wife's IRA account. Unless my team of whip smart (expensive) lawyers and equally sharp (expensive) accountants can convince the IRS to forgive me for my idiocy, I'll be paying up the nose. Up the wazoo. Or up the ying yang.
Either way, I'm a schmuck, which I believe translates into English as well as 43 other international languages.
Speaking of international languages and taxes, what's the deal with Duty Free shops?
I know they must serve some purpose because every time (granted it's not that often) I'm at an airport, I see people mulling about these stores. From what I can tell, they only sell perfume, alcohol and cigarettes.
Having established my ignorance of taxation perhaps I also need to include a sense of limited worldliness? Unless you're visiting the deepest, wettest remote village of the Congo (a new xenophobic Trump campaign phrase) is it not possible to purchase perfume, alcohol or cigarettes on all 7 continents of Planet Earth?
And how much in taxes are you saving that makes it worthwhile to lug a jug of Maker's Mark or 10 cartons of Marlboro Reds through customs in Lichtenstein or the mile and a half long terminals at Denver International Airport?
Maybe I'm at an age where convenience supersedes the thriftiness that has been woven into my Scottish/Jewish heritage.
If, and I'm just using this as an example, I were to run out of my favorite whiskey, smooth drinking mid-priced Bulleit Rye, and I get a hankering for a couple of fingers worth, I will NOT get in my car and drive the 1.3 miles to nearest BevMo where I can purchase a bottle for $23.99.
I will willingly walk to my nearby local liquor store. It's owned and operated by two nice Indian fellows --who I once mistakenly and politically incorrectly -- asked if they were from Pakistan. They unabashedly markup every bottle, all 4,781 bottles in their tiny little store. You have to see the jelly-tight shelves to believe it.
And though they charge $27.99 for the same exact bottle of Bulleit, I have no issue covering the spread. Because retail is difficult. In fact between covering costs of inventory, labor, utilities, and the often exorbitant lease, I'll never understand how anyone in retail can turn a dime into a dollar.
Also, my liquor store, the one that is .3 of a mile from my refrigerator is somewhat of a shrine to carnal cinematic adolescence.
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