Further Fun And Games With The Tax Man

Bureaucracy strikes a second time

In December of last year, I received a rather threatening letter from the California Franchise Tax Board (state tax collector) informing me that my father hadn’t filed taxes in years and that he had better get on it, or else. Apparently, being deceased is no excuse for not filing taxes. I wrote about it here.

I thought I had everything straightened out last January, but yesterday, I got another letter from the FTB. The letter was addressed to me, regarding my father, and requested confirmation of his change of address. HIS change of address, not his estate’s. Apparently, he’s back from the dead and the state still thinks he owes them money.

The letter came with a change of address form, with sections for “old mailing address” and “new mailing address” that already included my address in both places. Logic dictates that a new address matching the old address indicates no move at all. But, my instructions are to verify all information, and sign where indicated, as the responsible party.

As with the letter before, the new letter says that I must complete the form with my signature and title (title?) before a certain date or penalties may apply.

Why would they send a notification like this with all of the correct information for a person that’s been gone over a decade? It’s been seven months since they harassed me the first time. Apparently, from the information on the form, they don’t believe anything has really changed, so what the hell? Don’t they have better things to do?

Further, how much did all this letter writing cost? What about the phone calls and staff time? No wonder taxes in the State of California are so high.

Maybe I should give them the address to the cemetery with the section and plot number where my father rests in apparent peace, and tell them to take it up with him. I know a few psychics. I could hook them up.

My father was once audited by the IRS and wound up with findings against them. He made money on the deal. These kinds of fights always amused him and he was always prepared. Me, not so much. When I get letters like this one, I just about go into cardiac arrest.

I’m tempted to write a letter that starts with, “Dear Dumb Ass,” but I won’t. I’m not my dad and I don’t want trouble. So I’ll be polite, fill out their stupid form verifying that the old address is the same as the new address and write a letter including yet another copy of the death certificate.

Fingers crossed once again. Stay tuned.

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