Early May is a special time of year. The snow has gone. The birds are back. There’s finally a touch of summer in the air, but still no sign of wasps or mosquitoes.
Early May is also that quiet little interlude between the deadline to complete your federal tax return and the arrival of your municipal property tax bill, which usually lands on your doorstep with a thud some time around the middle of the month.
Now I’m not here to complain about taxes. I’m sure you’re quite capable of doing that yourself, without any prompting from me. Personally I’m not especially keen on forking over large wads of cash to our various levels of government, or to anybody else for that matter. Just ask my wife. But taxes matter if you place any value on things like roads and bridges. Or if you appreciate the services of the police, or nurses or firefighters. Nobody gets excited about having a functioning sewer, but try doing without one for a while and see how far that gets you.
Someone has to foot the bill for those things and those someones, dear reader, are me and you. Taxes are the price we pay for living in a world that, for the time being at least, isn’t a complete and utter crapfest. And for the most part it’s a price worth paying.
But it does feel like there’s something cruel about the timing. You finally get around to filing your federal taxes in April. You’re getting a refund! Hallelujah!! That refund arrives!!! You cry out with joy!!!! You’re about to invest in that bust of Elvis, handcrafted from a single piece of macaroni, that you’re had your eye on for so long!!!!! And then, just as you’re heading out the door clutching a wad of crumpled bills in your sweaty palm, your municipal tax bill arrives and you’re right back where you started.
One hand giveth and the other hand taketh away. Or, to put it another way, poop.
I suppose there are worse things in life than breaking even. There’s failing to break even, for one example. So if the federal refund and the municipal bill more or less cancel each other out, at least you’re no worse off than you were before the entire process began.
However, it’s undeniably a bit of a downer, and not a great way to start the nicest part of the year.
But it is what it is, and you didn’t get where you are today by complaining about things you can’t change. So you buckle down and write a cheque to the municipality of your choice. It’s OK if you swear a little, as long as you do it under your breath.
After that, you put macaroni Elvis on layaway and hope for better days ahead. If you have time, you can look for spare change under the couch cushions.
And then you wait until next year when you do it all over again.
