The Flat Tax

I’ve had some feedback on my post on taxes.  The response — “so what would you do?”   Being a somewhat simple soul, I look for simple but equitable solutions.  From what I’ve heard, a “flat tax” might be an option.  According to those who have studied the plan, a flat tax if implemented would actually result in a huge boost in revenue.  It works simply:   Everyone pays 15% (or whatever percentage you choose) of their income in tax.   Deductions are allowed up to a certain amount for charities and home mortgage interest.  There could be a graduated/sliding scale up to a certain amount for those lower income people so their flat tax percentage is less (or even zero).  The poor would thus be vested in the system as well as high-income people.  Yet the poor and low income people would still reap benefit.   Everyone would pay their tax but those below the threshold would fill out their tax form to get the money back.  This encourages all members of society to file tax returns (which is not the case now). 

You could then have a V.A.T. (value added tax – or sales tax) of say 10% (again — whatever number you want).  Corporate executives who buy a car or drug dealers who buy a yacht with cash – still pay a VAT.  All sales result in a VAT.   This recovers tax money that might otherwise not be recouped.  Everyone pays the VAT but again, you could make provision to repatriate specific amounts to those who earn below a certain threshold.  Thus you have means testing for tax benefit (which certain people like) yet parity and simplicity.   

According to pundits who have studied this metric, a flat tax would result in revenues the likes of which this country has never known.   The downside is that it would put hordes of lawyers, accountants and government workers out of work.   On second thought . . . . .         

 

On the Verge of Icky

The day before Thanksgiving, Donna dumped all of the ice from the freezer into the sink. I asked why. She said the ice was “on the verge of icky.” It was stuck together. Hence “verge of icky.”  It occurred to me that this expression would be a great title for a book — “On the Verge of Icky.” It could be a book about Illinois politics or General Petraeus or asparagus.

There are a lot of things that in my opinion are on the “verge of icky.”  Ultimate fighting.  Dirty dishes.  European economies.  Politicians.  Unions.  Certain 4-legged creatures.  Certain 2-legged creatures.   High school (or younger  kid) contact football.  Texting while driving.  Mullets.   Smoking.  Mosquitoes.   Many plaintiffs’ lawyers.   Spitting.   Prejudice.  Intolerance.   Three putting.    Actually, some of these things are downright icky. . . .        

Nigeria

Nigeria is Africa’s most populous country (170 million).  It is a bit more than twice the size of California with only 3% of the population over 65.  It is an interesting country — amazingly wealthy in natural resources (31st in the world in GDP) yet more than 70% of the populace live below the poverty line.  The country’s leadership over the years has been corrupt, venal and self-serving sending billions out of the country for personal bank accounts. 

There are three main tribes in Nigeria:  the Yoruba (21%), the Hausa/Fulani (29%) and the Ibo (Igbo) (18%).   While there are hundreds of indigenous languages, English is the official language of the country.  The majority of Yoruba are Christian though there is a large population of Muslims among the Yoruba.  It is interesting that Muslim and Christian Yoruba get along just fine, they often intermarry and attend one another’s worship services.  The Ibo are primarily Christian.  It’s the Hausa who are 95% Muslim that have caused strife — not only in Nigeria but also in the international community.  Many Hausa are of the Boko Haram school — violent jihadists who want to impose sharia law.   Hausa Muslims do not get along with the Yoruba Muslims (or anyone else for that matter).  This has been a cause for ongoing and well-publicized violence in the North against Christians and non-Hausa Muslims.

There are many Nigerians in Chicago and nearly all are Yoruba.  A large number of cab drivers are Nigerian (see my post of August 19, 2012).   Most seem to be Christian though many are Muslim.  Yorubas and Ibos assimilate well among other Africans.  I have only had Hausa cab drivers on a few occasions.  All – from the north (mainly Maiduguri) – have been in that tiny minority of Christians.  All left Nigeria because of persecution and violence.  Given the strategic location of Nigeria (coastal West Africa) and its tactical resources (mainly oil), this is one country we should really want to understand . . . . .

So You Think You’re Glib?

Can you talk for one minute – 60 seconds – non-stop?  Yeah, I can too. I’m a lawyer.  However, can you talk for 60 seconds, non-stop without saying a word that contains the letter “A”?  Think about it.  Try it. . . . this is a good one for kids. . . . .    

I’m sure there are combinations of words and sentences that will accomplish this objective (Hebrew and Arabic contain no vowels – hence no “a”).  For me though, the easiest way to do this is to go “one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve. . . .” and on up to one hundred.  The first “a” you will encounter is “hundred and one.”  It’ll take you about 60 seconds to get up to the number 75 . . . .  Ta daaaaah!  

So the Guy Who Wanted a Brownie. . .

So the guy who was on his deathbed called his three best friends together – a priest, a doctor and a lawyer.  “My friends,” he said “I’ve decided that I want to take my money with me.  I’m giving each of you an envelope containing $300,000 in cash.  Just before they close my coffin, I want you to throw in the envelope.  I will be happy because I’m taking my money with me.” 

The friends solemnly agreed and a short time later the man passed away.  At the funeral, each of the friends stepped up and tossed his envelope into the coffin — just as it was being closed.   After the funeral, the three friends gathered to have a drink.  After a moment, the priest broke down and tearfully said “I have a confession.  I took $50,000 out of the envelope to give to a homeless shelter.”  With that, the doctor broke down and sobbed “I have a confession — I took $100,000 for medical equipment for the childrens’ hospital.” 

The lawyer’s eyes narrowed.  His stoic face turned to a frown.  “I am ashamed of you.  Ashamed!  Taking money like that.  I want you to know that I put my personal check in that envelope for the full $300,000. . . . .”   

The Last Brownie. . . .

A man lay on his deathbed. Perhaps a few hours to live. His hands were crossed on his chest and his eyes were closed. Suddenly his nose began to twitch. A familiar smell. He drifted upward out of the deep recess of sleep. That smell he thought. CHOCOLATE. Brownies baking! An eye flickered open. Then the other. And he slowly tilted his head. The smell of chocolate was overpowering.  The kitchen was just down the hall.  I need. . . one last brownie. . . .

With great effort, he rolled onto his side and let gravity take its course.  He flopped heavily onto the floor.  Slowly, laboriously he elbowed his way toward the kitchen.  After what seemed like hours, he crossed the threshold and there – on the kitchen table – was a plate of warm brownies.  He moved forward and then slowly extended his grasp . . . . fingers . . . . reaching . . . . almost there.

Just then his wife walked in the kitchen – “GEORGE!”  You leave those brownies aloneThose are for the funeral!

Incentive

I am a simple soul. I get up in the morning.  Exercise.  Go to work.  I pay my mortgage.  Pay my bills.  I take care of the house. I put dirty laundry down the chute and take out the garbage. I drive carefully and obey the law. I pay my taxes and I (usually) don’t grouse. I love my wife and family. I go to Church on Sunday.  I try to eat right.  And I try to be nice to and respectful of all people – those I know and those I don’t.

So you wonder why on earth do you do this?  My question to most of you out there is the same — why do you?  The answer – to me – is the single most important word in the English language. INCENTIVE.  I frankly have incentive to do all of these things.  To earn money.  Keep a nice house.  Eat right.  Be respectful to my wife and family — and others.  To drive carefully.  Yadda yadda. . . .

I’m concerned that we are losing that sense of incentive.  Losing the sense of effort.  The sense of contribution.  It’s being replaced with a sense of entitlement.  A sense of expectation.  Something for. . . nothing.  Incentive is waning.  Maybe it’s a bit old-fashioned.  On January 20, 1961, President John F. Kennedy admonished “My fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you.  Ask what you can do for your country.”    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLmiOEk59n8   There was loud applause.   And approval.  Today though, more and more people are asking what their country can do for them.  With no strings attached.  Does it seem to you that we’re encouraging that attitude??  What’s your take?   

Live to Eat or Eat to Live. . . .

Socrates once counseled “thou should eat to live – not live to eat.”  As I have gotten older, I’ve become more careful about what I ingest into my body. I love movie theater popcorn, potato chips, corn curls, Baby Ruths, Oreos, French fries, Chuckles (yes Chuckles) and Sun Chips.  However, truth be told, you can probably count on one hand the times in the last year I have partaken of all of these.  Combined.  Well, maybe two hands.  The point is — despite my elan for such items, I pay them no — or little — mind.  I mean what’s the big deal with dieting?  Just have discipline, people.   When I bring something back to my desk for lunch while at work (which happens 3 or 4 days a week), it is always sans chips.  My sandwich is always a cappella.   I am strong.   Invincible.  During the day. . . .  

My downfall comes if I call home and Donna asks “Wanna go out for dinner?”  Sure.  My dinner will always be staid.  Serious.  Perhaps a beet salad.  Salmon and vegetables.  It’s then that I begin to sweat. . . . . The wait person sashays over and smiles.  My heart races.   They ask in that enticing come hither way “Would you like dessert?  We have chocolate gooey globs smothered with tubby tubs and whipped cream.  A la modeCovered with chocolate sauceCookies on the side.”   Donna pleads “will you share?”  “Pleeeeasee!”  My trembling hands, glazed look and perspiring brow tell the story — not on your life . . . . . I’ll have a double. . . . .   

I Am One of the Donkeys Here

A long time ago, I studied a bit of Mandarin Chinese. Then about 7 years ago, I decided to get back in the game with a 3 month “immersion” course through Berlitz.  My superb tutor – Weixin – continued on — coming to my office each week for several years.  And we would chat for an hour in Chinese.

Now Chinese is not as easy as it looks. It can be a bit difficult. There are four different tonal sounds so that each word can be pronounced four different ways — with perhaps a dozen entirely different meanings depending on context.  The only word resembling English is the word “mama” which will only get you so far. . . .

After my immersion course and a few months of tutoring, I had the occasion to host a group of Chinese judges and lawyers at my Firm.  I thought to myself I will wow them with my burgeoning knowledge of Chinese and so I took them on a tour of our offices and brought them into our Board room for a meeting.   At one point in my presentation, I noticed some polite laughter which I thought might be a result of my excellent elocution or my Shanghai accent.  However, as they were leaving, their translator pulled me aside and suggested that when I tried to say “I am one of the partners at Holland & Knight,” I had actually said “I am one of the donkeys at Holland & Knight.”  You should say lu shi — not lu zi

I have a feeling that my contratemps was one of the highlights of their trip such that the story will be retold with smiles and great enthusiasm.  Probably for years (sigh) . . . . .