Money

I was watching a TED Talk the other day in which the speaker reflected on the wonderful experience she had had in founding an organization whose purpose was to do good. Yes—to do good. She reported that it had made her feel wonderful, doing all that good.

That was her main point—how good it feels to do good, which is something we have all experienced, to our surprise and delight. But then she went too far. She said that doing good is far more important than making money, because no one, on their deathbed, asks to have another look in their wallet—they just want to be surrounded by their loved ones.

Now hold on here. This is completely apples and oranges.

Loved ones are all very well, but you need money more than you need loved ones. If you don’t have money—or a loved one to give you some, or a stranger to give you some, or VISA to lend you some—you will starve to death. You won’t have a roof over your head. You won’t have clothes to wear, or shoes and socks on your feet. You won’t have a bus ticket, much less a car.

About the only physical objects you can get without money are a library book or a drink of water at a public fountain. Food banks merely prove the point: people absolutely need money. Without it, they are at risk of starving.

The only time in your life when you don’t need money is—ironically—on your deathbed. There, at last, you are relieved of having to corral it.

In the meantime, before you reach the deathbed situation, you need money—the currency of the realm.

Recently, I have begun regretting that I didn’t save more over the years for a cushion—nay, a springboard—in my senior years.

Apparently, if I had invested $25 a month at 5%, compounded semi-annually, for the last 60 years (and I could always have afforded that), I would now have $110,632.85 in that putative bank account.

Hmmm. I thought it would be more.

What if it had been $100 a month? That’s better. I would have accumulated $442,531.41. But I would not always have had $100 a month to spare. And, frankly, that is not that impressive a number. I was thinking it would be millions.

Oh well.

Also, there is this to consider. If I had been such a good saver and accumulator, I would have had to develop some fiendishly effective defense against spending those savings. The result might be that now, having reached this great old age with a fine nest egg, I would be unable to spend it.

Like that famous poker player who controlled his facial expression so rigidly during the tournament that when he won, he was unable to smile.

But now that I see how paltry the result of mere saving can be, I have to think of another scheme. And just wait until you hear about this.

CBC News reports that the Canada Revenue Agency gave a Silverton, BC, “businesswoman” a refund of $4,958,716.63 last year. She had claimed that she received $9,999,999 in foreign income, the explanation for which was “United Nations.” Then, she claimed, she had mistakenly paid $9,999,999 in income tax on it—thereby entitling her to a refund of just under $5 million.

Apparently, one “assessor” and one “reviewer” looked at this return before confirming that this magnificent sum could be deposited into her bank account. It took more than two months for the CRA to notice that this whole transaction was an “outlier” (that is, scandalously preposterous), at which point someone took a third look. Now they are scrambling to recover the money, plus a good deal more in penalties and interest.

I notice that in the CRA’s lawsuit against the “taxpayer,” they describe her with various AKAs, which always makes me sit up and take notice—old lawyer that I am.

How is it that the CRA can be so asleep at the switch over $5 million, yet ready to haul me to the Supreme Court of Canada if I accidentally misstate my marital status?

By the way, Silverton is the smallest municipality in BC by area, with a population of 149. The nearest large city is Nelson. The CRA reports that, before her bonanza year, this “businesswoman” was reporting an annual income of $54,000 from her hemp and grain processing business.

You’ve got to love the Kootenays.