Outgo Taxes, The  Wrong Thing and My Bald Bride

Last week I did something I hadn’t done in years. I actually finished doing taxes for a couple of years. Now, keep in mind I am not as stupid as you think. I put off taxes as long as I can but I make sure I send in enough money so they don’t come looking for me.

The stories in this column are true. Averett lives a dull life in rural Southside Virginia with his wife Management, two children and a rotating assortment of goats, dogs, cats, snakes and other local fauna.

When I was just a young lad an older friend of mine warned me about taxes. He said, “You can do anything you want to. You can lie, cheat and steal. You can do all sorts of things BUT never cheat Uncle Sam.” He went on to say that all they can do if they catch you doing other stuff is put you in jail. I think he was speaking from experience. He said he came home one day and found his house, shop and business padlocked; his bank accounts frozen and several other ugly things happened.

I’m telling you he was a born again citizen. He rendered unto Cesar, kept great records and paid exactly (but no more) than required.

In any case, I’d reached the end of the legal stalls and it became time to render, so I did. As I said, I may be slow but I’m not stupid. The odd thing was as soon as I was finished I felt a wave of sadness wash over me. There is actually a name for it but I can’t print it. Ask me if you like.

I think it is that I have had at least one year and sometimes several years of taxes hanging over my head for so long I miss them. It’s sort of like the “wolf at the door” when Management and I were newlyweds. That wolf had been there so long the brats thought he was a family pet.

That was when we didn’t even have our own wall to have our backs against. The next year we upgraded to our own well-mortgaged wall and the wolf followed us. At this point we are probably in our fourth or fifth generation of wolves. There always seems to at least one wolf at the door.

As you probably suspect that is all my fault. The truth is I like wolves as long as they are just hanging around the door and aren’t eating me or mine.

Then to make my depression worse, after several years I finally finished furbishing my sister’s beaten biscuit block. It too has been on my list for so long I miss it. All I had planned was to fix the damaged roller. Then I decided it should be sandblasted to remove the lead based paint. As I was taking it apart I broke one of the gears and had to find a replacement. It is finally finished and returned.

Speaking of biscuit blocks, one of my cousins called me saying he had been trying to find a beaten biscuit block with no luck and asked for advice. He had spent hours on ebay, Amazon and other sites without success.

I explained that in order to find the right thing you have to look for the wrong thing.  That is probably the most profound idea I’ve ever had and it probably applies to many things.

If you search for “beaten biscuit block” all you get are pictures. But, if you look for the wrong thing and search for wringer washer rollers you will usually find a beaten biscuit block that has been mislabeled. You just need to know the difference between the wrong thing and the right thing. That’s another profundity.

Last week I was keeping the middle Grand-brat at the office. I finally had to call his Grand-ma’am. I said, “This brat’s throttle is stuck on wide open and I can’t find out how to adjust it.”  She just laughed and told me to have fun.

On Saturday when I arrived at the Trucker’s Parade Against Cancer I hadn’t even parked when people started asking me if I had seen my bride Management. Even before they told me I knew what happened. Abilene Trucking Company had offered to make a $100 donation to ACS for everyone who had his head shaved. My bride is not only beautiful she is a beautiful person and thrifty on top of that.

I knew I was going to find a bald bride and I did.