Scott Bradford: Off on a Tangent

Taxes and Census Forms

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So the United States government seems to have woken up; we finally got our census form today, and I also got a letter from the IRS about my taxes.

The tax letter was a nice little request for our signatures. According to the letter, our ‘Form 1040 doesn’t show [our] original signature(s).” That would be fine, if it were true. Our Form 1040 did show our original signatures . . . we checked, several times, before sending it. The letter also explained on the back that, “The delay resulting from this request for additional information may have been avoided if you had electronically filed your tax return.” That would be fine too, except that people filing for the home buyer’s tax credit weren’t allowed to file electronically.

Boy, they’re really on the ball over there at the IRS’s Kansas City processing center! I’m starting to wonder if they really want to return our money to us (ha ha ha).

As for the census form, well, it had our street address and ZIP code correct, but named the wrong city for some reason . . . and I still don’t understand why ‘race’ and ‘ethnicity’ are two separate questions, or why the only possible ethnicities are Hispanic and . . . not Hispanic.

Who Knew? I’m a Militiaman!

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There’s been a lot in the news lately about militias (the anti-government, criminal type), which got me thinking about militias (the ‘fought the British and gained our independence’ type). That led me to some research about the Virginia militia, and that led me to an interesting fact:

I’m in a militia.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to blow up a federal building or anything. I knew I was in a militia under the original meaning of the term which, as George Mason so succinctly explained, is a military force made up of “all men.” It turns out that, in Virginia at least, this original meaning is actually codified in state law. Under the Code of Virginia §44.1:

The militia of the Commonwealth of Virginia shall consist of all able-bodied citizens of this Commonwealth and all other able-bodied persons resident in this Commonwealth who have declared their intention to become citizens of the United States, who are at least sixteen years of age and, except as hereinafter provided, not more than fifty-five years of age. [Emphasis added.]

We Virginia militiamen are broken into four classes under the code:

Read more . . .

Electronic Destruction Field (EDF)

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Apparently I’ve picked up a magnetic field of some sort that causes inexplicable equipment failure.

First, my doorbell blew up on Friday. I mentioned it briefly as a Facebook status update but here’s a little more detail: I got home on Friday to an annoying buzzing sound and the smell of burnt plastic. After searching around, it turned out to be the doorbell ringer—which didn’t really do anything when I tried to ring it. I cut the power from the breaker box and disconnected it until somebody can come fix it (under the new home warranty). I’m hoping this will be the worst thing that happens with the house ;-). It hasn’t given us any other trouble.

Then, today, I was feeding a whole crap-load of coins into a CoinStar machine at our local grocery store. It occasionally told me to stop and let it catch up, which I did when it told me to, and then I resumed feeding it coins when it told me to. About 3/4 of the way through our coin pile, it started to tell me to stop much more often (like every few coins, instead of every few hundred). Then it stopped counting coins entirely and told me to seek assistance. The clerk came over and cleaned out the coin back-up, but the machine’s computer kept complaining about its ‘self diagnostics’ and eventually they said, apologetically, that they couldn’t fix it. I got a receipt for the coins it had processed already, and the rest will have to wait.

What mysterious piece of electronics will fail next when I come near it? I’m betting on . . . hm . . . clock radio, followed by a traffic light.

C&O Canal at Harper’s Ferry

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I did a nice ride on the C&O Canal Towpath today; about 16 miles out and then 16 back for a total of about 32 miles. I started at Noland’s Ferry (which is as far as I got last season) and rode out to the bridge that connects the towpath with Harper’s Ferry, WV. I took a couple of pictures while I was resting at the half-way point. The first shows the rail lines going into a tunnel in a big, imposing rock. The second shows the former canal with the towpath on the right.

Got Gas . . . Again?

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Remember back in January when I got a note from Washington Gas telling me my service was off due to a damaged line in the area? Well, apparently this is going to be an every-three-months trend. It happened again today. I think this, along with the road-nails, is just one of the joys of living in a construction zone.

This is only made all-the-more amusing by the wonderful, grammatical, chicken-scratch note: “Your Gas is off, do to Gas main brake, Gas repairs have been made, call to have Gas turn on” (sic).

Wow.

Anyway, I understand that accidents happen . . . but shouldn’t the gas company be answering the phone to fix the accident for us? Melissa has tried calling about six times now and gets no answer. Doesn’t a gas company have to be on-call 24 hours, since, you know, gas is both very important and potentially explosive?

Scott Bradford is a writer and technologist who has been putting his opinions online since 1995. He believes in three inviolable human rights: life, liberty, and property. He is a Catholic Christian who worships the trinitarian God described in the Nicene Creed. Scott is a husband, nerd, pet lover, and AMC/Jeep enthusiast with a B.S. degree in public administration from George Mason University.