Opinion » Maxed Out

Maxed Out

How do you spell tax relief?

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I would just like to make one thing perfectly clear from the outset. The following is the entire inventory of my pockets: one small Swiss army knife, a threat only to airline security; eighty-six cents in change; a crumpled and surprising 20 dollar bill; three business cards; two notes to myself; one physio receipt; one emergency dogpoop bag; and… that’s it.

There are not now, nor have there ever been, any councillors in my pockets. Nary a sign of the mayor either. I may have felt various of their fingers in there at one time or another but I’ve never had anyone with bylaw-making, tax-relief granting, official celebrity week naming or other local legislative powers in any of my pockets.

Just to be aboveboard though, I have given various of them rides in my car. But I have never let them drive and I wouldn’t think of letting them choose the radio station… not that there’s much choice but it’s a matter of principle.

That having been said, on to business.

I would like to, humbly, request a five-year tax break on my newly-purchased Whistler Housing Authority home. I’m not entirely sure what my property taxes are going to be but I’m pretty certain they’re not going to be anywhere near $150,000 to $200,000 a year. If they are, I’m in serious trouble. Actually, if they are, we’re all in serious trouble.

I believe I have a very strong case for being granted tax relief. The recently-amended Community Charter apparently gives local governments the power to grant such relief for companies undertaking major improvements.

“Ah-ha!” I hear you exclaim. “You’re no company.”

I’m hurt. Deeply hurt. There are those, admittedly fringe, who find me very good company. A little overbearing at times, possibly even borderline insensitive, but in a pinch, I’m there for them. And you.

Let’s not split hairs here. If I need to be a company, I’ll companize: Max Ltd. Satisfied?

I think it’s abundantly clear I’ve undertaken major improvements. I just sunk nearly 300 large of my own — not investors’, I’d like to make perfectly clear — dough into my WHA home. Okay, you caught me; that’s an overstatement. It was actually nearly 300 large of my and my Perfect Partner’s dough. We’ll amend the company charter: Max & Perfect Partner Ltd.

Now you may argue I’m the only one receiving the benefits of that rather large, by personal standards, capital expenditure. But you’d be wrong. Here’s a short list of those who’ve directly benefited by this investment: Royal Bank, who provided sundry financial services; the lawyer who made sure I didn’t get screwed; the builder; the trades who worked on my place; Home Hardware where I wander aisles aimlessly searching for various hardware; Husky who gassed my move; Anna’s Attic where I found some furniture — see, this is a corridor-wide project —; whoever moves into the very nice suite I’ve vacated; whoever moves into the lesser-nice suite they vacate; whoever moves into the festering hole they vacate; council itself, who look like champions for finally getting some new WHA housing built and occupied; and, last but not least, Whistler as a whole who now has additional, long-term social infrastructure paid for by Max & Perfect Partner Ltd.

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