Yeah, admit it, we all do…

Over the weekend, for giggles and grins, I googled not my married name, but my maiden name (which happens to still be my legal name, for various and sundry reasons having to do with when I was working way back before I became married).

To my shock, I discovered that I have a business!

Really? Wow, that’s news to me…

With 2 employees no less! And I’m supposedly getting a chunk of change from annual sales, as well!

It’s posted on the Internet, on sites that have obtained information from (supposedly) Dun and Bradstreet, so it must be true, right?

Yeah, right.

Before I go any further, let’s clear the record: I don’t have a business. Nope. Never have. It’s not even remotely possible for me to even fathom, given my level of disability. Sheesh.

Me having a business is as likely as me being the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus.

Geez, Louise, where do these sites get this nonsense?

It took a bit of detective work on my part, but I think I’ve figured it out. It’s a crazy tale indeed–and one tied to the insanity of what happens when someone like me becomes disabled.

First thing to know: when you are disabled, stuff like health insurance doesn’t pay for someone to take over all things you used to do to keep a household going. Nope. It pays for “medically necessary” caregiving, which boils down to stuff like getting a catheter changed if you require one and don’t have anyone in your family that can be trained how to do that.

That means that if you need trifles done like laundry and picking up prescriptions (get the picture?), you hire someone to do that, usually as a household worker, or you hire an agency to do that for you.

If you hire a household worker, and you’re scrupulously honest (like most average Americans, not like the silly wealthy people you read about that hire a nanny and pay cash under the table and then, duh, are shocked when they rightfully get their butt kicked by the IRS for it), you have to do all kinds of things that an ‘employer’ does, even though you aren’t running a business–and even though you’re paying out money, not taking money in.

For example, in Wisconsin at least, you must have worker’s compensation insurance for that person, and pay quarterly unemployment taxes. If they’re going to use a car to run errands (like when getting that prescription), then you need to make sure you have car insurance that covers them during the hours they’re working for you. On the federal level, you have to pay Medicare and Social Security taxes for them. You have to file a W-2. You must also file a “Schedule H” with your yearly personal income taxes every year that you have a household employee (the Schedule H is the IRS’s ” Household Employment Taxes” form — designed just for these types of situations). Everyone must do this, incidentally, who hires an individual (not an independent contractor or business) to mow the lawn, or baby-sit kids, if they pay that person (2010 threshold) more than $1700 a year.

Trust me on this, it’s a total pain in the butt, especially if you’re like me and want to make sure you always do everything honestly. You can pay out as much in insurance and taxes to the government to have a person run your washing machine as you pay a person to actually do the task. And you can’t claim any of it as a medical expense–it’s another one of those hidden costs of being disabled. However, when you become fully disabled, it’s really the only choice you have, unless you hire an agency. Those, however, are way more expensive, and you have much less control over the quality of the people that are going to come breezing into your life to help with the tasks that you can no longer do yourself.

Still with me? Good.

Now, here’s the next complication. You can’t get the state-mandated worker’s comp insurance for that 10-hour-a-week laundress, or file required state unemployment comp taxes (or many other things involved in having a household worker), unless you have something called a FEIN: a Federal Employer Identification Number. The federal Schedule H also asks for a FEIN, although apparently a social security number can be used on that form instead. However, in Wisconsin at least, the State gets confused trying to match its records, which it bases on the FEIN, to the IRS’s Schedule H if you fill out the Schedule H using your SSN. And then lots of people get their knickers in a knot trying to straighten it out. So, it’s dumb to use the SSN on the Schedule H and end up making everyone testy.

But… how does all this fit with web sites claiming I have a business? Ah, Grasshopper, read that acronym again: FEIN. Federal Employer Identification Number.

aHA!! Ding! Now we’re closer to solving the mystery of “my” phantom business!

If I have a FEIN, I must be an employer, right? Which means I have a business, right?

Wrong.

From what I can figure out, companies harvest FEIN information and then sell it. No distinction gets made as to whether a FEIN is a “real” business or is, as in my case, simply an individual who is disabled and had to jump through about a bazillion hoops to have someone pick up my prescriptions.

Apparently, companies and sites harvesting this information aren’t doing any checking to see if the information they’re publishing is even remotely accurate in other ways, either. For example, my phantom business lists me as having almost six-figures of yearly sales. Wow! Who knew? I wonder what I’ve supposedly been selling? Phantom Fairy Dust? The inaccuracy becomes excruciatingly even more ridiculous as I haven’t even had a household employee for years, not since a family member became my full-time caregiver.

The icing on the cake? There is no way to remove this ridiculously incorrect information from these websites. There is no way to stop the FEIN information from getting misused, misconstrued and propagated throughout the web in this fashion.

Argh.

It’s ludicrous.

God Bless Canadian physician Dr. Irwin for her 20+ years of advocacy against these toxic chemicals. Because of the actions set in place by her personal activism, determination and downright refusal to be ignored or bullied, over 80% of Canadian residents are now protected by bans on residential pesticide application.

Read more about Lawn Pesticide Awareness Day on Paul Tukey’s Safelawn’s blog.

In case you’ve been out ice fishin’ and missed the party going on in Madison: Wow. Just wow.

About those Wisconsin Democratic Senators makin’ a run across the border to prevent a vote on the bill that’s going to strip away union workers’ rights?

Again: Wow. Non-violent. Innovative. Effective. My hat is off to you.

I’m not a Democrat. I’m not a Republican, either. I’m one of those “independents” you always hear about that political pundits just can’t seem to understand. Fiscally conservative. Socially progressive. Fiercely independent.

I am deeply disturbed by our new Governor’s stance that his tactics regarding union workers are “the” way to save “us” taxpayers our dollars.

I’m not a member of a union. But this sure smells to me like saying that since private employers have gotten away with kicking their workers in the teeth, stripping away contractually promised benefits and pay as a “cost cutting” measure (while continuing in many cases to pay big-buck bonuses and perks to upper management), the “right” thing to do is treat union workers the same way.

No, thank you. We can do the right thing–there are many ways to return to a fiscally responsible, effective government that works within the taxpayer’s means–but let’s not do it the wrong way! The ends do not justify the means. Ever.

And why do I care about what’s happening regarding the union workers, since I’m not a union worker, I’m not a Democrat, I’m not a Republican, and I’m not even marginally in the workforce?

I think German Pastor Martin Niemöller’s famous poem says it best.

First They came… (Martin Niemoller, 1892–1984)

First they came for the communists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

It’s been great!

However, I’ve discovered over the last several months that I have a little fly buzzing about that’s been increasingly demanding attention, and it hasn’t gone away even though I regularly swat at it.

I have two sets of readers. They have totally different expectations. The first set are the friends, met and unmet, that are looking for neighborly chit-chat.

The second set, however, comes to read the posts scattered throughout BSD that express my somewhat jaded opinions regarding politics, environment, energy and other such topics… posts on “issues” instead of about our favorite bunnies and blossoms. They’re equally good people that come to read those posts, but they have different interests and a different focus.

It has made me feel increasingly divided about what I decide to post. I’m constantly asking myself which group of readers I am “talking” with when I write a post.

It’s a rather uncomfortable feeling, a bit like being part of a circus act, precariously perched way atop two galloping horses… but in this case the horses aren’t actually harnessed together.

Not. A. Good. Idea.

Solution:

The Shovel Awards.

Butter Side Down will continue the friendly over-the-fence natter that has comprised the vast majority of its content. You probably won’t even notice much difference if you come here for the bunnies and the blooms.

The Shovel Awards blog, going forward, has opinion and commentary on “issues” — just about any issue that annoys, irritates or otherwise catches the attention of not just myself, but also two other bloggers who plan to contribute in the future on an on-going basis

Go on. Check it out. Even if you aren’t one of BSD’s “issues focused” readers.

And rest assured… we’ll continue chatting here.

Which of the following have you already checked off of your equestrian bucket list?

1. Gallop along the beach.
   *snort*
   Gallop on a beach? In Wisconsin? Have you seen our beaches? Like you think you even could gallop around all the trailers unloading ice fishing shanties from the shore?
2. Win a blue ribbon, even if it’s for the egg and spoon race!
   Does it count if you’ve glued the egg to the spoon?
3. Enjoy an evening of equestrian theater, from major touring productions such as Cavalia to local performance troupes.
   See #1. Like we’d ever have the chance here in Wisconsin?
4. Try your hand at cattle work. Find out what it means when they say a horse is “cowy.”
   Oh, Lordy, I can just see what the local dairies would do if I had ever gone out herding their prize Holsteins… yeah, that would have gotten me shot right quick, I’m here to tell ya.
5. Jump! From crossrails to cross-country obstacles, experience the thrill of soaring over fences.
   I’m assuming you mean jump various obstacles whilst mounted on a four-footed beast, not by, say hurtling oneself at them in futile hopes of getting over? If so, then yes–already done that. Lots. Even did a tad of jumping while riding sidesaddle with my late beloved Beth, the World’s Best Horse. Ever. So we can check this one off.
6. Fall off and get right back on again. Conquering fear is empowering.
   Yeah, right. Let me slap whoever wrote that up the side of the head to see if I can shake a few of their brain cells into functioning. It’s SO noble. Uh huh. Especially when your horse stumbles while he’s cruising at a nice bold canter and you do a triple cartwheel through the air while your horse equally spectacularly crashes, leaving you both with injuries that are damned nasty and only by a miracle not deadly. Empowering, my a–.
7. See the majestic white Lipizzan stallions of the Spanish Riding School.
   (Shhhh – don’t tell anyone…. I’d actually love to do this–it really is a bucket list item for me!)
8. Come to a sliding stop on a well-trained reining horse.
   Done a few of these on a badly-trained brainless Appaloosa named (fittingly) “Bobo” who could jump the moon but loved to pitch riders into the standards just for giggles, but never did one of these on a reining horse, well-trained or otherwise.
9. Take a lesson with your equestrian idol, _________ (you fill in the blank.)
   Sadly, The Lone Ranger never answered my letters asking for his schedule of clinic dates, before retiring his mask.
10. Nurse a horse through a crisis and back to full health.
    Yes, and discovered to my chagrin that they’re much better patients than I am, although I’ve drawn the line at providing bedpan service, ungrateful owner than I was.
11. Watch the horses come through the Head of the Lake on cross-country day at the Rolex Three-Day Event.
    No, but I’ve seen a Belgian draft horse charge through a five-foot tall manure heap and jump a four-foot fence to escape a particularly nasty stinging horsefly. Does that count?
12. Have the courage to do the right thing for your horse, even when it’s not easy.
    Like what, deny her carrots when she’s had more than The Official Carrot Guru says she should? Puh-leeze–that’s not courage. It’s being “daring.” (waddya mean, I’m sarcastic? NOT! I’m ironic. So there. Nyaaah.)
13. Attend the Kentucky Derby dressed to the nines-including hat!
    Strike that one. I don’t like mint juleps. Too sweet.
14. Tackle a trail accessible only by horseback and enjoy the view.
    What view? The view of my riding partner’s horse’s butt scampering off down the trail after dumping her when a vicious fanged maple leaf blew past on the ground and touched his hoof? That view?
15. Take your dream vacation on horseback.
    aHAHAHAHAHHA! My dream vacation involves lots of down time with fluffy pillows, no alarm clocks, sacks of candy and a case of Frey port wine. The horse is more than welcome to come along if it brings its own corkscrew and snacks.
16. Master the sitting trot.
    Duh. This one just cracks me up. Sets of cavaletti’s followed by three-foot in-and-outs… (as in a series of three jumps in a row, each three feet tall, with the horse taking one stride in between, for those of you who haven’t ridden hunters or jumpers) without stirrups AND without reins was part of the regular practice routine back when I was riding hunters. Not just for me – for everyone. Master the sitting trot. Hee hee hee. Um, that would be a “yes, already done that. (who wrote these?)
17. Ride a fine-tuned horse in your discipline of choice, be it dressage schoolmaster or barrel champ.
    You mean like the time I was talked into taking out a highly trained eventer through an Olympic training level cross-country course, because I was naive enough to believe his owner when she said “if you think any of the fences are too hard for you, you can just go around them.” Little problem: my friend neglected to tell the horse that, and being a very talented and competitive eventer, Horsie thought jumping was more FUN than carrots and apples, and the bigger the fence the BETTER and ALL fences were made to be jumped. I’m guessing it must have looked like the equine equivalent of putting a Piper Cub pilot behind the controls of an F-18 fighter and slinging him off a carrier via the steam cat. Screams optional. I’m here to tell you it was six miles of sheer unadulterated terror… but, damn, I’d do it again in a heartbeat!
18. Watch polo. Even better, try your hand at it!
    Actually, I’ve played a bit of polo, and am totally lousy at it. But, boy, could the Morgans I rode kick butt in a good game of broom polo.
19. Feed, muck, groom, ride. Repeat daily.
    If this is on anyone’s bucket list, they need their head examined. My bucket list? Owning the horses and having somebody else always do this for me. Daily. For free.
20. Wake up to a whinny every morning.
    If I was waking up to whinny, it would mean yet another Morgan spent its night scheming out a way to go over, under, around or through a “horse-proof” fence and was demanding breakfast at 4 a.m. by shoving its nose into the house. Does this sound like a life ambition to you? No? Me neither.
21. Fly down the track on a Thoroughbred.
    You haven’t experienced a gallop until you’ve galloped a just-off-the-track-Thoroughbred who has learned to do one thing in its life (run like hell, with no on-board brakes as standard equipment and about as much steering mobility built in as an oil tanker) and the pig truck arrives unannounced to drop off a load of angry full-grown porkers in an open pen right next to the arena. Yeah, that’s a bucket list item everyone should aspire to have. Special note: be sure to have clean undies waiting at the point you figure your crazed mount will finally stumble to a stop in exhaustion. That will ensure that you can obtain a “newly freshened” feeling after you drop to the ground and kiss it fervently in sheer and abject thanks for your survival.
22. Meet one of your favorite famous horses in person.
    See “Lone Ranger” above. I always did want to meet Silver.
23. Ride bareback, bridleless … or both!
    Well, duh, I’m guessing whoever wrote this one was born into money, because the rest of us rode that way because it was cheaper than putting lots of wear and tear on that expensive tack. What, that’s not why you’re supposed to ride bareback and bridleless? It’s supposed to be a mystical experience?
    *eye roll*
    (Remind me again, did I already ask who wrote these stupid questions?)
24. Share a bond with your horse that’s deeper than words.
    I leased a Thoroughbred for a while who would fight with me over who got the last spoonful of our shared hot-fudge-coffee-flavored-ice-cream sundaes. Does that count?

Whew – that it! That’s the end of the meme. Aren’t you glad we had this moment of sharing?

*snort redux*