Even asked Mr. Fernández, who for once wasn’t quite certain.
And this guy—besides always having the answer (and always the correct one, damn him!)—has an MBA.
Right. So a reasonably intelligent guy (that’s me) and a very intelligent guy (that’s you-know-who) with an MBA can’t figure out the basis for Mitt Romney paying 15, not 35% on his millions.
Or is it 2%?
Well, just googled it again, and guess what?
Can’t get my head around it.
I did learn some interesting facts. Seems that there are two things. Tax evasion is illegal and very, very bad. There is something, however, called tax avoidance and that is legal and very, very good! (Especially for the rich…)
See?
And it appears that blocker corporations are legal. So, I thought, what about me? Can I set up a little blocker corporation? I’m living down here in the Caribbean. Easy enough to run up to Grand Cayman, file some papers, then head for the beach! Supposed to be nice up there.
I think you know the answer.
No.
You gotta have mega bucks to do this scheme. And for little pubic hairs (can’t say the word in Spanish—it’s obscene…) like me?
Sorry. Find another playground.
Well, well. What to do?
Clean the bathroom, I decided. For Carmen was coming to dinner, and it seemed like a thing to do. Can’t have a dirty bathroom if ladies are coming to dinner.
Right, did that. Then dawdled around the rest of the house. Got it half clean when Carmen, ever punctual, showed up.
So we sat, ate dinner, and talked death.
Well, she’s a lady who knows a thing or two about death. Both of her parents AND her lover died virtually in her arms.
Parents died at home, and were, in good traditional fashion, waked at home as well. Yup, just like the famous (in Puerto Rico at least) painting by Oller. Have a look….
And of course, she prayed the rosary. Still does, though Carmen is only culturally Catholic. Which is to say that she (probably) disagrees with 80% of the dogma but gets comfort from praying the rosary.
Who am I to criticize?
She believes, for example, that a green butterfly appearing in the house portends the death of someone close to her. Well, I thought, she’s not alone. Japanese also think so. And I was forming that thought, or rather that sentence (we were speaking Spanish) when Carmen went on to say…
“…it’s such an honor, a privilege, to be present when someone you love dies….”
And then, the heavy mirror hanging over the buffet moved rhythmically back and forth three times.
And no, there was no wind.
Also, not one but I saw it.
Not surprising, really. She’s here and there, that mother of mine. She gets around. No smoke detector, so she grabbed the mirror.
Well, I did the dishes, Raf and Carmen went off to see a play. Got up and did the morning trot. And began wondering.
How to get through the week? There’s a nest of vipers gathering in Tampa, and what to do? Turn off the iPad / television / newspaper completely, and clean the house?
Music, I decided. And then began thinking of music about music. And that led, inexorably, to Handel.
Well, it’s a strategy. Not a bad one. So I went to YouTube, and snatched the clip below.
But for stronger souls, click on the link below, and see if you can understand Mitt’s money….
Just don’t tell me until after next week….
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