Death and Taxes

The other day I received a tax bill that I had neither expected nor budgeted for, so now I must will into existence an additional $1500 by the end of March. And yesterday I found out that a former Scoutmaster of the troop my son belonged to died from skin cancer (so long, Tac; you were a good soul and a wonderful leader). So as I was jogging today, musing on the impermanence of all things physical, the phrase above came to mind, words linked together because of their similarity in that they represent things we fear or dislike, but cannot change. Yet they aren't the same at all. One is a man-made artifact of a civilization that has created a compact between people and the government they create. The other is - so far, and I will be really pissed off if it turns out that my generation is one of the last to have to deal with death other than from accident or assault because of advances in biology, nanotechnology, etc. - a barrier we as a species have been unable to surpass. The Ultimate Equalizer.

Still, there is a depressing similarity in that both feel like something I can't do anything about. Government has grown so large and impersonal that objections to taxes by an individual seem pointless, no matter how mind-bogglingly wasteful the programs they fund are (TSA, anyone?). And as for death, well, I can try to eat decently, and exercise, and take a few pills that may or may not do anything, but there could be some aneurysm tucked away in the folds of my brain ready to pop and if it does, well, that's that. Some tears (there had better be!) a little service, Domini, Domini, and move on. And of course, even if I do everything right, in fewer than sixty years, I'm toast.

I'm tired, and someone I liked died before he should have, and I owe taxes I haven't planned on. Still, I'm not dead yet, and I have a foxy wife and great children and I can still jog and play and read, so I'll get out of this funk and be positive. Because what's the alternative, be negative? Phooey.