There are certain sayings that you hear all your life, never really fully appreciating that they represent the collective wisdom of the generations who have come before us, and never fully understanding what they mean – and never realizing that this is, in fact, what highway construction workers are discussing, as you zoom past and see them leaning on equipment and staring at chug holes.
For instance, “gather ye rosebuds while ye may.”
I know now how important it is not to wait until tomorrow to do what you can today – and that you should pick up those rosebuds as fast as you can because it’s too hard to explain to your bowling buddies why you’re carrying around a little basket of rosebuds and saying “ye” to everybody.
Or how about “a stitch in time saves nine?” Not until I bent over to pick up a rosebud, and my expandomatic waistband slacks split every possible seam, did I appreciate what just one strategically placed stitch would have averted.
Of course, that stitch would have been placed over my mouth. It also was one of those good times to say “YE!!”
“Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.”
Instead of following Poor Richard’s advice, Moderately-Impoverished William’s corruption of that ancient wisdom is: “Late to bed and rudely awakened, leaves me quite sleepy and generally shakened.”
Oh well, if it was such great advice, why wasn’t he “Rich” Richard?
The old saying that really hit me in the face recently, though, was “low clearance ahead.” No, really, it was “pay your taxes or die.”
Some of you might have heard this gentle reminder before from your local agent of the Internal Revenue Service, who is here to help you and help himself to your money.
It all began with a lovely note from the IRS Commandant who wrote me personally and said: “Greetings. Pay your taxes or die. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call one of our helpful volunteers at 1-800-GIVE-ME-$.”
After locking all my doors and windows and moving all my assets offshore (i.e., to the sandbar in White Rock Lake), I immediately called my local Lake Highlands Tom Thumb grocer to confirm that there is no blood in a turnip.
Instead, however, I couldn’t help myself and asked the grocer if he had Prince Albert in a can, told him to let him out, laughed hysterically, and hung up.
In times of financial trauma, I find humor – and winning the lottery – to be the best medicine.
I finally gathered my wits about me – (note: wits are not rosebuds) and decided to bite the bullet and call the tax man – which I did after calling my dentist about breaking my tooth on the bullet.
“Have you no mercy? Have you no common decency, man?” I beseeched the other end of the phone.
“Mr. Greedy is not in. Please leave your major credit card number or preferred execution date at the tone. June is already booked, and July is filling up fast, so don’t delay.”
I cannot dispute it is a friendlier IRS.
And so, these are now the only things in life that are certain: death, taxes, phone mail, and PT’s Gentleman’s Club.
