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This won’t be a political post, but on this April 15, tax day, I want to say that I hate taxes. (Okay, tax day is actually the 18th this year, but that’s Mythology Monday, so I’m sticking with the traditional tax day for the sake of my blog.) To keep this from becoming too serious, I’ll ignore my hate and instead focus on an anecdote that I sometimes share with clients when they inappropriately ask me for tax advice. I’m not permitted to give that kind of advice, but as most of them don’t respect that, this 100% true story stops their request immediately.

In law school, I took Personal Income Tax because I figured it’d fix my ignorance of tax law.

The final exam was open book, and I got a hold of an outline prepared by three accountants taking the class. The outline was exceptionally well-organized and covered all the material. Nevertheless, after the exam, I went to Ranalli’s (Adams St. location since closed), which was the favored watering hole of Chicago-Kent students in the mid- to late-90s. When I arrived, I announced, “Well, I didn’t think it would happen, but I finally failed a class in law school!”

I didn’t fail, but the C+ I got was my lowest grade in four years at Kent. Did I have the best material available? Yes. Am I stupid? No. Then why did I do so poorly?

Hate is a powerful emotion aaaaaannnnnndddddd I’m back to hate.

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