Colonel Edmund J. Burke
2019-04-11 14:11:20 UTC
In 2008, when his father finally kicked the bucket, Dennis Johnson was given three-quarters of a million dollars cash, set up for him in an irrevocable trust fund. Such trusts are also known as Spendthrift Trusts (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spendthrift_trust). At the time, Dennis was 50.
In addition to his principal assets, the money held in trust that is, Dennis held about one hundred thousand dollars under his “supervision” --what we might call his “liquid holdings.” Said assets consisted of a Chase Bank Savings Account (a passbook savings account they were called, back when the banks were paying interest) and an IRA account (of unknown value). Dennis was doing “good” by continuing, up until recent times, to make yearly contributions to the IRA.
BUT, LIKE THEY SAY……..SHIT HAPPENS.
Now, it’s no secret that Dennis has an ongoing gambling problem (he admits this). He also admits some past problems involving certain Korean women and massage parlors along E.C. Boulevard. Although the Koreans are no longer a problem for him—having kicked his silly ass to the curb several years ago—the Indians still remain something of a vexation.
“Uh, hey Chief. . . Looky there, isn’t that heap stoopid dipshit Dennis coming to spend more IRA money again?”
“Hey, you be quiet, Laughing at Paleface. We got kids at Harvard. We need money from stupid white trash.”
“Well, Mister Johnson, I’m afraid that’ll be a twenty-five percent penalty,” the H&R Block guy said. “By the way, if you had waited just one more year, there wouldn’t have been any tax consequence . . . er, sir.”
Ah shucks,” said Dennis, twitching a little more than usual.
“But, the good news is that we can write off most of your gambling losses…. Hmm, you must be some big gambler. . . Well, there ya go. I’m done, Mister Johnson. Here’s what ya owe the IRS, by the way. Consider your taxes filed as of now. Just don’t forget to send ‘em that check or they’ll charge ya interest.”
April 15, 2018
I think I saw Dennis the other day. I was waiting at the light on Pacific Highway. I looked across the road, over at the group of homeless “veterans” gathered around a bottle of MadDog 20/20, when I saw him. He was a terrific sight—unshaven, filthy, with pimples all over his face. Which might have been Kaposi's sarcoma sores. At that moment the light turned and I drove off, thinking about the old saying “A fool and his money….”
This article is dedicated to the memory of Dennis’ liquid assests: 2008 – 2016.
May his liquidity, and the souls of the faithful, REST IN PEACE.