I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that our interaction with the federal government isn't frequent. Most of the time, we think of that, too, as a good thing.
Okay, we pay our taxes. Everybody files a return. Note that I don't, and won't, say that everybody pays their taxes. The richer you get, apparently, the better you can dodge payments. But I digress.
Outside of that, the less we have a person-to-person connection, the less complicated our lives tend to be. That's why I hesitated the other day.
When I began my Social Security payments, I took no deductions. I found that later to be a foolish idea, because in Wisconsin, at least, you have to pay federal taxes on your benefits. I figured out that I paid roughly $300 per month.
I can't say that I 'got burned' by that, since I owed the money. But at first, it drained my savings. I'd forgotten that little tidbit.
The last couple of years, then, I'd taken at least $300 out of each payment and made an separate account in which to deposit it right after the raw payment had been made. That way, I couldn't fool myself into thinking that I had the money when, in fact, I'd be getting rid of it.
All that bother for a net loss? How silly. So I looked up a remedy.
I remembered that I could remove differing percentages of my payment each month--something that I'd ignored when I first arranged for payments--and the federal government could use the money upfront: 10%, 12%, or 22%. Turns out that 12% came out to $297/month, which would just about cover what I needed to pay full freight at tax time. Why not let the government do it? I brought up the form and printed it out.
But, of course, the pandemic. The Social Security offices are closed. Roadblock? It felt intimidating.
But no: There was the number. My shoulders sank. Would I wait half an hour for someone to pick up the phone?
Nope. Two rings. Someone answered. "Just fill out the form and send it in," she said. We hung up.
It was that simple? Really? There had to be a glitch. I figured that the government would send me another form. Or something.
I sent it in. I figured to hear back in, maybe, three or four months. Nope; it was one month. Thin envelope, too.
It told me what I'd done. No exceptions, no extra issues, no extra forms. Simple deal.
I stared into space with wonder. The damn government works. Even from way-far-away. What happened was exactly what I wanted to happen.
I'd had an office in Washington, DC for six years, and I chose to live in the District for another single year, so I knew about some of the people who work, mostly anonymously, to deliver services for this enormous country of ours. They're just working stiffs like you and me. Their jobs touch far more of us than we give them credit for. They work well. They want to help.
I heard someone complain about 'corruption' a while back, and vaguely, as it usually is, referenced Washington. I got all over him. "They're like the rest of us, but they care far more," I said. "They want all of us to succeed as Americans."
The efficient response I got in the mail shouldn't have stunned me. But my confidence in government has been diminished in recent years with the temporary insertion of someone who didn't think government mattered much, and worked to keep it from working, giving that conclusion a self-fulfilling prophecy.
The people who undermined government were the people who catered to those who automatically reject government as an internal enemy, which wants to steal your money for things you never see. I already know that's like many of the other myths they choose to believe. Amidst 330 million people (or so), it's often difficult to identify with a place so seemingly remote but with so much power.
But those people care. They do what they do, too, because they're civil servants, not because they were elected to do so. That's the idea.
An article ran in the New York Times not long ago noting that the Social Security Administration was doing some recalibrating to improve its image. Whatever it's doing, the best thing it can do is what it just did with me: Deliver services. Now they have a champion they never knew. Mission accomplished.
Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.
Mister Mark
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