When I think of the IRS, I think of death and taxes, in that order. Thank you, Benjamin Franklin for pointing out our only two certainties in life. So far, I’ve been staving off the Grim Reaper, and I’ve been paying my taxes every year, in an attempt to avoid appearing in the radar of the IRS. Or at least, I try to avoid the IRS as much as possible.

However, I had to call them up today. It seems that there was an error on my tax return this year. I wouldn’t have noticed, but my tax refund was significantly smaller than I had anticipated. I was counting on that money for my vacation this year. I waited for the letter from the IRS in which they explain their adjustment and I immediately spotted the error:  They had me listed as Single instead of Head of Household.

I put off calling them for about a week. Everytime I think of the IRS, audits and federal prisons come to mind. My mother and I panicked when she once received a letter from the IRS to go to their office for an audit. We just expected the worst. We dug up every receipt we could find in the house for the previous year. When she came back home, she was extremely relieved. In fact, after the audit the IRS increased her tax refund because she didn’t claim all of the expenses to which she was entitled!

Years ago, I received an ammended tax return from the IRS, but they actually tripled my tax return because I didn’t properly apply the income averaging formula to which I was entitled after working for minimum wage while I was in the Marines.

But I wasn’t expecting to receive one penny less this year on my tax return. So, I called the toll-free number they provided and I couldn’t get through to a live person. The automated voice message gave me another phone number and extension to call, which I did. Another voice message at the new phone number told me to call the next day or contact them through their website at http://www.irs.gov. Of course, I couldn’t find how to contact the IRS on their website.

I called today and I was suprised to actually talk to a live person, although I did have to wait about twenty minutes on hold. But the woman with whom I spoke was very calm, professional, and understanding. She had a digital copy of my tax return on her computer screen and it turns out that it was I who made the mistake of filing as Single instead of Head of Household. She made the proper adjustment to my tax return and I should have my full refund by next week! Apart from the waiting on hold, the whole experience was quite painless!

They say that without the Internet the entire economy of Nigeria would collapse. We’ve all received those winning lottery notifications. The urgent request from someone with a are large fortune who needs your help to transfer the money out of Nigeria. But the most fascinating scams of all are those that come via Instant Messages. I mean, I’m always invisible when I’m online, but somehow, they find me and IM me. How do they find me anyway?

I remember the good old days of IMing total strangers from around the world. I actually enjoyed some of our converstations, usually in English, but sometimes in Spanish. We would chat for about ten or fifteen minutes and then we would say good-bye, usually forever.

Then, the Internet changed drastically. All these females started IMing constantly. I started to believe that on the Internet I was a stud! Some 27-year-old female, or so “she” claimed, would IM to get to know me better. And she would get to know me quite well because in less than fifty words from me, she fell madly in love with me, no matter how I described myself. I had several descriptions of myself in my repetoire–hey, I’m a writer, no?

Once, I said I was old, fat, ugly, impotent, but my lovely admirer still fell in love with me! See, I am a stud on the Internet! Once, they were in love with me, they felt entitled to ask me for money so we could meet in person. Of course, they never asked for the money outright. There was always a predicament from which I had to rescue them before I could send them money.

One of my “lovers” had gone to Lagos on vacation from a small town in Kansas. And she IMed me that she was trapped in her motel room by the manager who would not let her out until she paid her bill. Somehow, I was obliged to help her because she had no family or friends back in Kansas who would help her. She gave me the telephone number of the manager so I could call him and give him my credit card information in order to pay her motel bill. Color me skeptical, but I didn’t call the manager. I still feel really badly for her because she has probably been locked up in that motel room for three years now. How could I do that to a woman who really, really loved me? She was counting on me, my damsel in distress, and I let her down. No wonder I’m still single!

Another “lover” IMed me so I could help her return to the U.S. Somehow, she had gone to Nigeria from Minnesota on vacation and had inadvertently bought money orders instead of traveler’s checks. She needed my help to cash her money orders. She would Fed-Ex them to me and I would cash them at my bank, and I would immediately wire her the money. Then we could be together forever! She really loved me. I could sense it from the urgency in her IMs. I still feel bad about letting her down. I tried to scare her off by telling her that I was a police officer, but, no, she said I could wear my police uniform to the bank and then I could go to the front of the line. I told her that I needed time to let the money orders clear, but she insisted that I wire her the money immediately after I deposited the money orders. Well, when she asked me for my address in order to Fed-Ex me the money orders, I gave her the address to my police station. It’s been a few years, and I still haven’t received those money orders! I feel so badly for her because she’s probably still stranded in Nigeria. Even her own family in Minnesota wouldn’t help her come back home. I guess I’m a monster.

My friend Liliam tells me that when the Nigerian men contacted her, they would chat awhile and then send her a love poem. I never received a love poem! Am I not worthy of a love poem? Of course, the men also wanted money, too.

After a while, these chats became so routine and mundane that they were no longer interesting for me. Sometimes they were in Germany or England, but they were always trying to go home and/or meet some gentleman and there was always a connection to Nigeria, some way, somehow. Finally, before they even told me that they loved me, I asked them how much money they were going to ask me for. That would instantly end our chat. I can’t believe how easily they were offended! I’m such a cynic, ain’t I?

Now, I just report them as spam and I never hear from them again. But I kind of miss them now. Lately, I receive IMs that invite me to sex chat rooms or live webcams. But no one tells me they love me anymore like my Nigerian girlfriends did. Maybe I’ll start chatting with them again.

I mowed my lawn today. For the first time all year. My neighbors are disappointed that I don’t have a better lawn. When I first moved into this house five years ago, they introduced themselves to me. They seemed happy to have me as a neighbor.

However, I made the mistake of telling them that I was Mexican. It was a mistake because they immediately assumed that I would have a perfectly manicured, weed-free lawn. In fact, they immediately started asking me for tips on improving their own lawn and garden. I told them that I didn’t know anything about landscaping, but they didn’t believe me. I purposely let my lawn fill with weeds just shatter their image of Mexicans as landscapers.

So, every year since then, I make it a point not to mow my lawn until Memorial Day weekend. They give me dirty looks until I mow my lawn. I remember they once lent me their spreader so I could put weed killer on my lawn, which I did. However, then they started giving me even more tips on lawn care, so I mowed my lawn less frequently then.

I’m sorry, but this is a sticking point with me. I don’t have to live up to my neighbor’s expectations. Soon, they’ll approach me while I’m mowing my lawn and make some suggestions on how I can improve my property. I just hate how they do it, though. Usually, the wife sneaks up behind me while emptying the lawn clippings into the garbage can. And she scares the hell out of me! Because I’m usually all alone in my backyard.

I’m not sure how she has managed to sneak up on me so many times. I can’t wait until she approaches me this year. She’ll probably sneak up on me again. But this time, I’ll be the one to shock her when I tell her that I’m selling my house and moving to Mexico.

Uncle Sam. Sometimes I think of him as tío Samuel. Uncle Sam protects us from ourselves for our own good. By Uncle Sam I mean the federal government that wields so much control over our lives that sometimes it downright scary. For the most part, federal laws protect us and maintain civic order in our country. Uncle Sam intervenes so much in our daily life, but the average citizen is unaware just how much.

You’re probably wondering how Uncle Sam entered into your home without your knowledge. Food products are regulated as far as what ingredients are allowed and how foods may or may not be prepared. In a perfect world, this system works perfectly. However, government inspections aren’t as thorough as they should be. Food must be packaged safely for the consumer. Manufacturers must seal all food products to prevent them from getting contaminated from dirt, disease, etc. If they use a sealant of any kind, it must be made from edible ingredients just in case it gets into the product accidently or a consumer accidentally eats it. It’s a federal law.

Just think of those candy wrappers when you open them and you see the glue stretching. If a small child ate that glue, he or she will not suffer any harmful efffects thanks to Uncle Sam. And back in the old days, before e-mail, when we used to lick postage stamps, Uncle Sam mandated that the glue on the back of the stamps be made from edible and nutritious ingredients! Thank you, Uncle Sam. For some people, that was the most nutritious item of their daily diet.

Let’s not forget that letter that we used to write on actual paper with actual ink. Well, Uncle Sam also regulated those items. All pens manufactured in the U.S. have chemical markers in their ink in order to determine the year of their manufacture. If you use fancy stationary with a watermark, the watermark contains identifying marks that also determine the year of its manufacture. Why? So Uncle Sam can protect us. Suppose someone wrote a will. The ink and stationary would determine with some degree of certainty the year that it was written. So if someone found the will, say an heir, and he didn’t like the fact that he didn’t inherit the entire estate, he could rewrite the will on new stationary, but the chemical markers in the new ink and the identifying marks on the stationary would immediately reveal the fraud. There are thousands of other federal laws on the books that help Uncle Sam in his mission to protect us from ourselves.

Look at any electrical appliance in your home. All electrical appliances must be labeled, by federal law, to indicate power source and at least one federal government agency will be listed also, e.g. FCC on telephones.

Let me see. Let me find an electrical appliance in my own home. Okay, how about that wonderful labor-saving device (that really didn’t need to invented), the electric can opener. Well, it lists the manufacturer’s information and toll-free telephone numbers for their offices in the U.S., Canada, and Mexico (Thanks to NAFTA). However, this can opener is MADE IN CHINA. Also listed is the power requirement: 120V ~ 60Hz. Why does it have to 120 volts? Why does it have to be 60 Hertz? Because it’s a federal law. Uncle Sam is protecting us and regulating us with this law. This way the electricity is uniform throughout the country. Because of this law mandated by Uncle Sam, it’s also uniform throughout Mexico and Canada. That means you safely plug in any electrical appliance, even if it’s made in China, anywhere in NAFTA-land and you will not be seriously injured.

Okay, we don’t want too much voltage so we don’t fry ourselves, but why, you ask, 60 Hertz? This is where Uncle Sam gets a little sneaky. The electricity that is wired into our homes is AC, or alternating current, that alternates at the frequency of 60 Hertz. Everywhere in the U.S. and NAFTA-land.

But what is the significance of 60 Hertz? Think about the number 60 for a moment. Does it ring a bell? It’s a nice round number. Well, there just happens to be 60 seconds per minute and 60 minutes per hour. Uncle Sam insists that our electricity alternate at 60 Hertz so we can plug in electric clocks and they will tell us the time fairly accurately. Uncle Sam maintains civic order by making the correct time available to everyone so we can all get to school, work, etc. on time. They also give us more hours of daylight by adjusting our clocks twice a year with Daylight Saving Time. It’s a federal law! And everyone follows Uncle Sam’s schedule because if we didn’t, we would be an hour early for everything from springtime and all the way through the fall when the clocks are turned back to their “real” time. As you can see, Uncle Sam controls many aspects of our daily lives.

There is also a computer chip in your car that records various statistics about your driving habits. The auto manufacturers will tell you that’s for maintenance purposes. If you take your car to the dealer, they plug it into a computer that prints out a complete diagnosis of all mechanical problems. However, suppose you get into an accident, your mileage and velocity are recorded by this computer chip with an extremely accurate timeline.

I read in the newspaper about an accident that occurred near my house. It was a hit and run accident in which a pedestrian was killed as he attempted to cross the street at a stop sign. In a few days, the offender was finally apprehended. It turned out that he was a police officer who immediately made out a false police report that his car was stolen. Well, his girlfriend turned him in because she felt bad for the dead teenage boy and his family. In his defense, the driver stated that he was driving 30 MPH, the speed limit. However, the crime scene indicated otherwise. Well, they investigated the onboard computer chip and discovered that he was driving well over the speed limit, about 70 MPH. I suppose this was a good use of the computer chip, but what if the government is using it to track our every movement?

Uncle Sam supports all these laws with our tax dollars. And we all pay our taxes religiously because we don’t want to risk being convicted and confined in a federal prison for income tax evasion. You can get away with a lot of crimes, including murder, in this country, but just don’t pay your taxes and see what happens. Just think of Al Capone. This how Uncle Sam controls us. Uncle Sam also controls a lot of countries in international politics. If he doesn’t like your political leadership style, he’ll just take you out, e.g. Saddam Hussain.

Uncle Sam controls many aspects of our daily lives in our homes and in the national and international arenas. They also control immigration, legal and illegal. That’s right, illegal immigration, and from almost all countries on Earth, not just Mexico. Why doesn’t Uncle Sam do something about this rampant illegal immigration? Oh, yes, there are the immigration stings that you see in the news where they round up a few hundred illegal immigrants that are nothing more than political posturing.

Most people assume that only Mexicans were rounded up in these stings, but other illegal immigrants were also arrested, such Ukrainians, Poles, Chinese. Uncle Sam has so much power, not just over us, but over many of the world’s countries that he could easily stop practically all illegal immigration at all our borders and international airports. Uncle Sam uses its military might to take over countries with tens of millions of inhabitants, but he can’t stop a few hundred thousand illegal immigrants per year entering the USA? Why is this? Well, because the American economy would collapse without illegal immigrants who work at less than minimum wages. How many American citizens would work these back-breaking agricultural and factory jobs? American jobs would go south to Mexico or, worse yet, overseas.

So Uncle Sam turns a blind eye in order to prop up the American economy. In fact, every so often, Uncle Sam grants amnesty to illegal immigrants by the millions, indirectly condoning and rewarding illegal immigration.

So, I just got back from the show after seeing How the Garcia Girls Spent Their Summer. I always try to see all movies with a Latino or Hispanic theme, or whatever else they claim to be. If the movie is good enough, I occasionally show it to my Spanish classes. The movie looked promising because it starred America Ferrera (Blanca) and Elizabeth Peña (Lolita), but it dragged on a little when they accurately depicted the small-town boredom of Somerton, Arizona.

The scenes could have quickly summarized the boredom and then moved on to the next scene, but no, we, too, had to suffer as much boredom as the protagonists. However, I did like what we learned about the characters when camera focused on one character at a time in what appears to be a soliloquy without words.

When we see Lolita as she drinks at home alone on a Saturday night, we learn a lot about her loneliness and we understand her a little better. These scenes revealed so much about Lolita as a person and other characters without any dialogue. The movie is about three generations of women, grandmother, mother, daughter, who happen to be Mexicanas and how they react to each other’s behavior. Doña Genoveva, the matriarch of the family, finally learns to enjoy life in her advanced years, much to the shock of her daughter and granddaughter.

The movie begins with some retired Mexican men discussing former cars and lovers. Throughout the movie, cars, SUVs, and pickups serve as vehicles that transport the protagonists toward romantic passion. After the opening scene, we see Doña Genoveva gathering her hidden savings throughout the house so she can buy a car. She wants to learn to drive even though she’s seventy years old, causing conflict with her daughter and creating a new friendship with her gardener, Don Pedro (played by Jorge Cervera, Jr., who played the father in Real Women Have Curves (also with America Ferrera). Coincidentally, he plays a Mexican landscaper in both movies, dooming himself to be forever stereotyped as the Mexican landscaper!).

Overall, the movie was exceptionally good in that all the characters learned something about themselves, but the action seemed to drag on much too long. For a movie with a Latino or Hispanic theme, it didn’t feel very Latino, Hispanic, or Mexican. Take away the occasional Spanish dialogue, the Mexican accents, and the Mexican-looking actors, and this movie could have been another non-descript American movie. Neither the characters nor the plot revealed or taught us much about cultural differences. I wouldn’t show this movie to my Spanish classes because it’s not as culturally educational, as, say, Real Women Have Curves.