So, I pull into the parking lot of Stately Wombat Manor this evening, prepared to File My Taxes in the traditional manner: in a rush, the night before, with the requisite grumbling, dark oaths, and general disdain for the bozos in (City Hall/the State Capitol/Washington) that are the hallmarks of a healthy democracy. Waiting for me, I find three, count them, three black cats clustered around the tree next to my usual parking spot.
I am not particularly superstitious, but three black cats, right before Tax Day? This, I think to myself, no one will believe unless I get a picture. Off I dash into our humble abode to retrieve the digital camera. The cats are still there, the light is still good, I have a tripod to brace on, I'm set. I take careful aim, and find the rechargeable batteries are stone cold dead. As are the other set of rechargeable batteries. As is the camera itself after I find reasonably fresh non-rechargeable batteries. Around this point, I stopped caring about getting a picture.
For all I know, those black cats are still out there. But it's dark, and as much as I'd like to act out the old joke about economists right before Tax Day, I think I'll just confine myself to the one we call the Internal Revenue Code.
