Plucking the Goose: Tax Reform

Writing in “The Political History of the Devil” in 1726, Daniel Defoe said, “Things as certain as death and taxes, can be more firmly believ’d.” Later, in a 1789 letter, Benjamin Franklin noted, “Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency, but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.”

Unless we are high fliers in the financial world, we seldom give much thought to the subject of taxes until it’s time to file our tax returns each year. We may stare wistfully at our pay stubs, wishing fewer dollars were withheld from our earnings, but today, we’re more concerned about the odds of the Browns winning a game this season, or finding out how Jack died on “This is Us.” Taxation is inevitable, so why lose sleep in November over taxes?

However, in the days leading up to the April 15^th deadline for filing our tax returns, I do have varied reactions: procrastination as I contemplate the unwieldy task, a loud and long whine as I collect the needed information, and a sigh of despair, when I realize how “bigly” my payment check needs to be. I’ve also been dazed and confused as I work my way through the dreaded forms, especially navigating the world of self-employment taxes. I should therefore be glad this month’s proposed tax reform will simplify that dreaded duty, right?

As one of our parishioners used to repeat in the middle of our sermons back in Canton, “Nope, nope, I don’t think so.”

First, I have my doubts that the IRS will end up simplifying anything, regardless of what tax plan is passed. That capacity is not in their DNA.

Secondly, I’m not happy they’re proposing changes that will negatively impact my family. We’ve got a teacher – no deductions for the classroom supplies she buys every week? No deduction for mortgage interest? Student loan interest? Local and state taxes? Moving expenses? These are deductions we’ve taken over the years, thus reducing our tax burden a bit. Will the other changes really offset those savings?

And what about the families of our community? Ashland University is an important employer here, and historically, its salaries have been a bit lower than other employers because it provided a tuition benefit for family members. These tuition waivers are slated to be taxed, as are stipends paid to graduate students at universities across the country. My young friend from a working-class family just began a doctoral program in psychology. Will he be able to continue? Not if he has to pay more in taxes than his cash income.

Yet the whole idea of taxes isn’t just about how it will impact us as individuals. Ever since an incredible tea party in Boston Harbor nearly two and a half centuries ago, our country has demanded representation in deciding how to fairly and effectively tax our citizens. We understand the need to pool our money to pave the streets, to care for the most fragile among us, and to keep us safe, but we want a say in it.

Sorting out taxes is never simple. The animated Disney movie “Robin Hood” offers two perspectives. The ruling Prince John boasted, “Taxes! Taxes! Beautiful, lovely taxes.! Ah-hah! Ah-hah!” Sir Hiss, his henchman snake, responded: “Sire, you have an absolute skill for encouraging contributions from the poor.” Prince John replied: “To coin a phrase, my dear counselor, rob the poor to give to the rich.”

Robin Hood took the opposite position philosophically when Little John asked, “You know somethin’, Robin. I was just wonderin’, are we good guys or bad buys? You know, I mean, uh? Our robbin’ the rich to feed the poor. Robin Hood answered: “Rob? Tsk tsk tsk. That’s a naughty word. We never rob. We just sort of borrow a bit from those who can afford it.” Little John replied: “Borrow? Boy, are we in debt.”

The seventeenth century French statesman, Jean Baptiste Colbert, described the fine art of taxation as “plucking the goose as to obtain the largest amount of feathers with the least amount of hissing.” As the plucking continues in Washington, that’s an image I won’t easily forget.

Red, White, Blue and Green

At age seven, the lovely Madelyn Simone loves to sing in the cherub choir at church in Canton. As smitten grandparents, we enjoy being in attendance when we can, glad that the “love of music” gene was passed on to our granddaughter. Last Sunday, as part of a service honoring veterans, she enthusiastically saluted and marched her way through Otis Skilling’s song, “I Am Thankful To Be An American.” She and her choir mates eagerly proclaimed, “In a nation blessed with the very best, I will stand with my head up tall.”

When we arrived at Madelyn’s house to pick her up that morning, she had chosen her own fashion ensemble, with a red, white and blue sun dress, white lace tights, and her shiny patent leather shoes with the sparkly straps. She had remembered the instructions – to dress in something red, white and blue – and she was prepared. Since the frost was on the pumpkins that morning, her father suggested she wear her red sweater dress instead, wise counsel based on the chill of the season.

How do we wear the red, white and blue of patriotism these days, in this season? The popularity of the musical “Hamilton” reminds us that questions surrounding patriotism, or, perhaps better said, the meaning of being an American, are not new to 2017. Our expressions of patriotism have been debated and questioned since the early days of our country.  

We waved flags at a grand parade in downtown Cleveland when Desert Storm veterans returned, but had a less than welcoming response to Vietnam vets as they staggered home, amidst burning flags and taunting protesters. The harrowing scenes from Ken Burn’s recent PBS documentary broadened my understanding of the angst and confusion of those years. We were Americans, but we didn’t agree. Stepping farther back in time, the witch hunt of the McCarthy years, the isolationist position of the America First Committee in 1940, and the challenges brought to our union by the Civil War have all led to disagreement over our American identity.

So what does it mean to be American? What does it look like? We respond in many ways, often drawing upon the common words that connect us to answer. How many times over the course of our schooling did we repeat the Pledge of Allegiance in unison? That pledge wasn’t written until more than one hundred years after our nation’s birth, when Christian socialist Francis Bellamy penned it to mark the four hundredth anniversary of Columbus’ arrival in the New World. According to Peter Dreier and Dick Flacks, Bellamy hoped the pledge would promote a moral vision to counter the individualism embodied in capitalism . . . He intended the line, ‘One nation indivisible with liberty and justice for all’ to express a more collective and egalitarian vision of America.” FYI, I didn’t miss “under God,” as that divine guidance wasn’t added to the pledge until 1954.

The Star-Spangled Banner, another marker of our shared identity, didn’t become our national anthem until 1931, although it was written in 1814. Unlike other poetry, Francis Scott Key’s four-stanza verse was meant to be a song from its beginning, written to John Smith’s popular pub melody, “To Anacreon in Heaven.”

In that same Canton church service, we sang Katherine Bates’ poetic words: “O beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain.” Originally titled “Pikes Peak” in 1893, it’s been a staple at patriotic programs over the ensuing years. Tears welled in my eyes as we continued to sing: “America, America, God mend thine every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self-control, thy liberty in law.” Powerful.

As the children sang that morning, Madelyn stood beside a young boy in a green shirt (either he didn’t get the dress code memo or wasn’t paying attention). Yet he marched and saluted just as proudly – and patriotically – as Madelyn did. Red, white, blue or green, a small child or a grizzled veteran, a card-carrying member of the DAR or a newly naturalized citizen – we’re in this together, this flawed, 241-year-old experiment called the United States of America. Yes, I agree with you, Madelyn: I’m thankful to be an American too.  

What's New With You?

A friend, a former Ashland resident, recently returned to town for a brief yet precious visit. As we met for lunch, she talked about seeing a number of changes in town, some I hadn’t even noticed. Her comments nudged me to pay a bit more attention to the new happenings in my environment.

So what’s new with you, Ashland?

As of Tuesday, there’s a new sheriff in town. Well, not exactly a sheriff, as Sheriff Risner still wears that hat, but we do have a new mayor-elect. Thanks, Mayor Fishpaw, for stepping in to provide the interim leadership needed to keep our city running this past year.

Congratulations to Mayor Matt Miller. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Move over, “Triple H,” the WWE wrestling celebrity: Ashland now has our own “Triple M,” just like the Triple M Ranch down the road in Loudonville.  I’m not sure if any of our other mayors have had nicknames, but there’s always a first, Matt, if you like it. If “Triple M” doesn’t suit you, we could have a contest to pick the best nickname for you if you want.

It was a hard-fought campaign from two qualified, passionate Ashland residents. I haven’t seen the numbers on voter turnout compared to past local elections, but the energy surrounding this election encourages me for the future of Ashland. Thank you, Sandra Tunnell, for taking the plunge into the mayoral race, and to my fellow Ashlanders for showing up for the debates and taking time to listen to the candidates. Thank you, too, for voting, the process so essential for the health of our democracy.

When I walked into the Eagles to cast my ballot, I did a double take. Paper ballots? What happened to the touch screen machines? Were we going back in time? At first, I thought the election workers were going to have to count those ballots by hand, but the new system scans our votes and tallies the results. Who knew?

We also have some new council members charged with representing our neighborhoods on city council. We’re grateful for those who have served and for those who are stepping up to govern into the future.

So what else is new in Ashland? After many weeks of singing “An-ti-ci-pa-tion . . . is keepin’ me waitin’,” or at least “making me hungry,” we’ve finally got our Chipotle. A new Burger King is underway, and who knows what the next few months will bring our way.

I’m excited to see the newbies in downtown Ashland as well: an escape room with a library of board games, the  Uniontown Brewing Company which is getting ready to open in the former Gilbert’s building, and the ongoing restoration work on the old Ashland Schines Theater – check it out the next time you’re downtown. And now Home Hardware is changing hands. Staff is already rearranging merchandise, and new items are on order. Perhaps they’ll have an open house or ribbon-cutting.

Have you seen the sweet little spot on 2^nd Street downtown, where children can have fun with art?  On Franklin, east of  Claremont, there’s the wonderful Tin Can Chandelier, a gathering place where even the least artistic among us can channel the spirit of Michaelangelo or Rembrandt – or even Grandma Moses. They’ve created a functional space for seasoned artists or rookies.

In the world of art, the Strength Through Connection Exhibit is now open through November 17 at the Coburn Gallery at Ashland University. Animation artist Tracy Miller-Robbins and graphic designer Jonathan Clyde Frey use art to help us build a better understanding of our diverse community populations. And nestled kitty-corner from the gallery, at the corner of Claremont and College Ave., lights were on in the former coffeeshop space as we walked to the AU football game last week. What’s going on there?

I’m grateful for the artists, entrepreneurs, and political leaders who heed the counsel of Meister Eckhart: “And suddenly you know. It’s time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.” As a community, we are enriched when our neighbors seek the magic of beginnings.

So what’s new with you?