is disappearing in a tax cut heavy on the high end.
The day I got my check, there was a front-page story in the Los
Angeles Times pointing out that because of this windfall for the rich,
government analysts now project a surplus so much smaller than expected
that the feds may have to draw on the Medicare trust fund to meet current
expenses and finance other critical programs. All because of that $600
check I got in the mail.
It has occurred to me that my wife and I could make some sort of
ironic statement by offering the money to Bush administration programs
that might be struggling because of the tax cut. Maybe to help pay Dick
Cheney's light bill. Or to finance oil drilling in Central Park. Or to
design a massive bank of ice machines to protect the United States and
ensure that future generations die from poisoned air before global
warming gets us.
Or we could think even bigger. We might contribute to the development
of a test target for our anti-missile weapons that could be shot down
more easily -- in broad daylight and without decoys, of course -- and
thus justify a few more billions for a weapon that will be instantly
obsolete if it is ever made to work.
But this is all idle musing. Statements -- especially when they
involve money -- are unhappily only practical for the rich or the very
highly principled. To the less-than-rich, soft-in-the-head people like
me, there isn't enough personal satisfaction in making statements to
compensate for the trip we have long wanted to take or the home repairs
we need to make or the appliance we need to replace -- which, of course,
the pols count on. And so we use the money and resent the administration
that laid this choice on us and the Democrats who supported it.
The thing that irritates me most is the smug, self-congratulatory
message printed on the bottom of the check that says: "Tax relief for
America's workers." This should amuse the people who do my yard --
providing they get a check. If the spin doctors who decided to use these
