Sunday, July 07, 2019
Just back from vacation, or...
Summertime and the living (ain't) easy.
After a long flight, a nice relaxing time with Carolyn at her parents' place, and a long drive home, I'm sitting in front of my computer refreshed and ready to face whatever comes my way. I'm not even being sarcastic. The only caveat is that my summer has only a few weeks remaining: I leave for Pennsic in 3 weeks, and when I get back, all Hell breaks loose. It might still be 90 degrees and muggy out, but I won't notice besides trying to get steps on my lunch hour. I'll be in the office, in Ossining, or in tax class.
The vagaries of my calendar notwithstanding, I should note an odd sensation I had while driving home. The ride itself was detoured because of a severe accident on I-95 in Virginia around exit 118. The road was shut down for miles, and we were lucky to have Waze show us an alternative route. We would have been stuck in stand-still traffic for hours otherwise. We made it home with a sliver of twilight remaining, and that meant we had daylight all along the New Jersey Turnpike into New York. It was during that stretch I had the strangest sense of melancholy.
Before I left for North Carolina, Westchester and New York State were wrestling with the budget crisis partially created by the Trump Tax Plan, which I find delightful. The new law prevents property tax rates from being further increased, though the legal 2% (Ha!) increases will continue. Income taxes are similarly hamstrung, which is also a joy to watch. Nevertheless, something had to happen, but what? For the moment, the answer was to raise the County sales tax by 1%, from 3% to 4%, though the total sales tax is 8.375% from 7.375%, which I feel is an equitable solution, and a relatively painless one at that. Scott disagrees.
The difference between us is that I'm an end consumer, so I would pay an extra dollar for every $100. This would mean my car, which cost $8,500, would have a sales tax of $711.88 versus $624.75 . An extra $85.25 isn't nothing, but I'm not buying a new car every week. From a macro perspective, if my total spending is $40,000, I'd pay an extra $410 a year.
Oh the other side of this, Scott is a small business owner, so he has to cover the increased sales tax even if he's unable to raise his prices due to unrelenting competition. According to him, the increase will cost him $125 per month. I have no further context for his calculations, but he did say that he used to make $60,000 and pay $7,100 in taxes, circa 1985, and now he makes $30,000 after paying $18,850 in taxes. Again, I cannot check these numbers, but I'm sure it's more or less correct. This change, and the shift in politics across New York State have put a special onus on question I ask myself and Scott, along with a few other like-minded individuals: when has the breaking point been reached? When have we had enough to the point we're willing (or even forced) to leave our life here in New York and start a new chapter?
I haven't reached that point yet, whatever my feelings on Albany's stupidity, as all that I have both personally and professionally is tied to Westchester County and the policies of New York's financial aid. Simply put, I can't leave, at least not fully. Nevertheless, the day is coming, and it's soon. I'll be 49 at the end of the year, so the end is much nearer than my 401(k) would lead one to believe.
My discussions with Scott during my vacation via text, and his severe reaction to the tax increase, led me to contemplate my own timeline for getting out of the Northeast. Although his family is here, Scott can effectively leave tomorrow if he wanted. He hasn't given up on New York coming to its senses, which I find amusing as well as troubling. Things won't go back to the free market bonanza of the 80's, no matter how much he wishes. Our conversations on this topic has been ongoing since 1998, and I feel I might have made some headway a week ago. The talks are helpful, if only to sharpen my own thinking, enabling me to verbalize how bad I feel things are going to get. My exceptions are... not high.
All of this hit me as we were at the north end of the New Jersey Turnpike. I knew that the Manhattan skyline would be to my right, and I couldn't wait to see the spires of the city I love to call home. They view, obscured by low clouds and summer's humidity was an amazing sight. It reminded me how close I was to my home, and I couldn't wait to get back to Westchester to sleep in my bed, see my friends, and walk my familiar streets, doggies in tow. I say all this even as I had a great time in North Carolina.
My excitement was interrupted, if only for a moment, by the melancholy I mentioned above. Just as I knew that would be home soon, I also knew that one day soon I'd be leaving. This isn't news; it's been a theme of this blog since October 2005. No, what was different was that I keenly understood how much I'll miss it. I love living here in Westchester, and I never felt that as strongly until that moment. I built a life here, filled with love and laughter, victories and failures, along with strife, drama and loss. Whatever I create elsewhere, it won't match what I had here, and I can't expect it to. I also understood at that moment that I was going to leave. The destination is unknown, but it's out there, waiting for me to take the next step.
That next step will have to wait. Financial aid requires my attention tomorrow, as does Ossining's open house tomorrow night. I'll busy myself with Excelsior, folders, and pleas from students who forgot that class attendance isn't optional. I may find myself sneaking a peak at potential rental properties in Florida, or trying to register for the H&R Block tax course. I hope to keep this feeling as I drive down 9A tomorrow, instead of cursing under my breath at the traffic.
After a long flight, a nice relaxing time with Carolyn at her parents' place, and a long drive home, I'm sitting in front of my computer refreshed and ready to face whatever comes my way. I'm not even being sarcastic. The only caveat is that my summer has only a few weeks remaining: I leave for Pennsic in 3 weeks, and when I get back, all Hell breaks loose. It might still be 90 degrees and muggy out, but I won't notice besides trying to get steps on my lunch hour. I'll be in the office, in Ossining, or in tax class.
The vagaries of my calendar notwithstanding, I should note an odd sensation I had while driving home. The ride itself was detoured because of a severe accident on I-95 in Virginia around exit 118. The road was shut down for miles, and we were lucky to have Waze show us an alternative route. We would have been stuck in stand-still traffic for hours otherwise. We made it home with a sliver of twilight remaining, and that meant we had daylight all along the New Jersey Turnpike into New York. It was during that stretch I had the strangest sense of melancholy.
Before I left for North Carolina, Westchester and New York State were wrestling with the budget crisis partially created by the Trump Tax Plan, which I find delightful. The new law prevents property tax rates from being further increased, though the legal 2% (Ha!) increases will continue. Income taxes are similarly hamstrung, which is also a joy to watch. Nevertheless, something had to happen, but what? For the moment, the answer was to raise the County sales tax by 1%, from 3% to 4%, though the total sales tax is 8.375% from 7.375%, which I feel is an equitable solution, and a relatively painless one at that. Scott disagrees.
The difference between us is that I'm an end consumer, so I would pay an extra dollar for every $100. This would mean my car, which cost $8,500, would have a sales tax of $711.88 versus $624.75 . An extra $85.25 isn't nothing, but I'm not buying a new car every week. From a macro perspective, if my total spending is $40,000, I'd pay an extra $410 a year.
Oh the other side of this, Scott is a small business owner, so he has to cover the increased sales tax even if he's unable to raise his prices due to unrelenting competition. According to him, the increase will cost him $125 per month. I have no further context for his calculations, but he did say that he used to make $60,000 and pay $7,100 in taxes, circa 1985, and now he makes $30,000 after paying $18,850 in taxes. Again, I cannot check these numbers, but I'm sure it's more or less correct. This change, and the shift in politics across New York State have put a special onus on question I ask myself and Scott, along with a few other like-minded individuals: when has the breaking point been reached? When have we had enough to the point we're willing (or even forced) to leave our life here in New York and start a new chapter?
I haven't reached that point yet, whatever my feelings on Albany's stupidity, as all that I have both personally and professionally is tied to Westchester County and the policies of New York's financial aid. Simply put, I can't leave, at least not fully. Nevertheless, the day is coming, and it's soon. I'll be 49 at the end of the year, so the end is much nearer than my 401(k) would lead one to believe.
My discussions with Scott during my vacation via text, and his severe reaction to the tax increase, led me to contemplate my own timeline for getting out of the Northeast. Although his family is here, Scott can effectively leave tomorrow if he wanted. He hasn't given up on New York coming to its senses, which I find amusing as well as troubling. Things won't go back to the free market bonanza of the 80's, no matter how much he wishes. Our conversations on this topic has been ongoing since 1998, and I feel I might have made some headway a week ago. The talks are helpful, if only to sharpen my own thinking, enabling me to verbalize how bad I feel things are going to get. My exceptions are... not high.
All of this hit me as we were at the north end of the New Jersey Turnpike. I knew that the Manhattan skyline would be to my right, and I couldn't wait to see the spires of the city I love to call home. They view, obscured by low clouds and summer's humidity was an amazing sight. It reminded me how close I was to my home, and I couldn't wait to get back to Westchester to sleep in my bed, see my friends, and walk my familiar streets, doggies in tow. I say all this even as I had a great time in North Carolina.
My excitement was interrupted, if only for a moment, by the melancholy I mentioned above. Just as I knew that would be home soon, I also knew that one day soon I'd be leaving. This isn't news; it's been a theme of this blog since October 2005. No, what was different was that I keenly understood how much I'll miss it. I love living here in Westchester, and I never felt that as strongly until that moment. I built a life here, filled with love and laughter, victories and failures, along with strife, drama and loss. Whatever I create elsewhere, it won't match what I had here, and I can't expect it to. I also understood at that moment that I was going to leave. The destination is unknown, but it's out there, waiting for me to take the next step.
That next step will have to wait. Financial aid requires my attention tomorrow, as does Ossining's open house tomorrow night. I'll busy myself with Excelsior, folders, and pleas from students who forgot that class attendance isn't optional. I may find myself sneaking a peak at potential rental properties in Florida, or trying to register for the H&R Block tax course. I hope to keep this feeling as I drive down 9A tomorrow, instead of cursing under my breath at the traffic.
