Category Archives: estate tax

A Little Conversation

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May 1, 2009.

“Dad, I think you need to spend a little time with your lawyer, Jeb about your estate plan. Luckily, our dealerships are surviving this recession, nicely and that new Cash for Clunkers program will stimulate things further. He says that unless you happen to die next year, it will be impossible for me to keep the business open after you die because of all the death taxes that I’ll have to pay. That scare in March with the ski accident ought to be a warning to both of us that things can happen. Will you please schedule a meeting with Jeb? asked Junior.

“Son, that crash in March didn’t kill me did it? I may not be invincible, but I definitely am lucky. But I’ll meet with Jeb sometime soon. Did you see that new Iron Man commercial we just shot. I can’t believe that the movie company let me use that car for the commercial. I’m going to go to Biloxi for a few weeks to recuperate, then back here for a week and then going to Maine for a month or so. But come fall, we’ll definitely get on that tax stuff.”

September 12, 2009.

“Son what a summer, this is Bridget, I met her up in Newport this summer. And its still bikini weather down here. She’s from Sweden. I’m going to have to put up some screens around the pool at the house so that she can continue to get that all over tan. Boy the Tide sure beat the stuffin’s out of the Hokies last weekend. This is the year”.

Junior winced. His father was still reliving his childhood and clearly was not growing up. Except now, he had a gold card without a spending limit. “Dad after you get Bridget settled in, we need to have a meeting with Jeb. I’ll schedule it for maybe next week?” “Son, you’re a one track thinker and I appreciate that, but trust me, you gotta have some fun, too. Now after the Bama game tonight let’s see if we can get you in some trouble.”

The Prognosis and the Diagnosis

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The doctor called Junior. “He’s one tough SOB, I think he’s going to make it, but the key is whether he gets an infection from the bowel leak.” “Thanks, do I need to come out there?” “Well its going to be touch and go for a few days, it wouldn’t hurt”, said the doctor.

The phone rang again, “Hello is this Jack, Jr.? This is Deputy Marinara of the Park City Sheriff’s office.”

“How can I help you deputy?” asked Jack, Jr. “We’re a bit concerned that Jack’s ski bindings failed, any thoughts on that?” the deputy asked? “Well Dad might have tried to make them too tight for the race today and perhaps sprung something, or he got too drunk last night and didn’t check them this morning because he was hung over, or blind from taking too much ED medicine.”

“You’re probably right and your father doesn’t remember anything, and the only finger prints on the bindings are your fathers”, the Sheriff replied. “Sheriff, do you think that I would have tried to kill my father?” asked Junior. “No such thing, the resort is always afraid of lawsuits and sometimes people rig up their own stuff to get hurt and get some settlement,” the Sheriff answered. “No problem of that, Dad has more money than God, I think and he’s trying to spend it all before he dies. He may have a death wish since Mom died, I don’t know, but he’s certainly got joi de vive these days and lawyers, hospitals and death would cramp his style right now I think.” The Sheriff paused for a second and then answered, “Okay, then, I’ll just chalk it up to some dumb old coot who still thinks he’s 25.” “That about sums it up”, answered Junior.

Later that evening, Junior visited his father in the hospital. “Dad, I told you to be careful.”

“Son, I’ve never had a binding fail, ever, if I didn’t know better, I’d bet they were tampered with.” “Dad, I understand your pride was hurt, you’ve never crashed before, but your BAC was .055, that’s impaired for driving and drunk for racing. I’ll bet you had a handful of ED meds last night so you could please the babe of the week and you’re not 25 anymore. Promise me you’ll be more careful, I want to keep you around for awhile”, Junior replied.

After finishing his meeting with his father, Junior talked to the Doctor, “what’s his prognosis doctor”. “He’ll be fine, he’ll just have to rest for a couple of weeks and then have some physical therapy”, answered the doctor. “Good thing he was a little looped, most people would have tensed up before impact, he was so loose, that it probably saved his life”, the doctor continued. “That’s my Dad, he always lands soft”. As he walked away, Junior thought, “if only he would land hard enough to die.”

An Accident

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February 28, 2009

“Now son, don’t be too generous with the customers while I’m at Park City this week competing in the senior downhill”, the old man said. “Dad, don’t try to be the poster child for the “agony on the Wide World of Sports, “ Junior fired back. “Hell, son, its not the skiing that worries me, its whether that ED medicine will hurt my vision going downhill.” “Dad, you know you shouldn’t be mixing fast skiing with that stuff, you could get killed.” “Hell, son, I’ve been taking that stuff for years and it never bothered me before, doubt it will start now. I just want to make sure…. oh what is that chick’s name…, Sandi… to enjoy herself.”

March 1, 2009.

While blazing down a double diamond slope the bindings on Jack, Sr’s, skis failed. He fell into a grove of pine trees. He was carted downhill in the inglorious ski patrol toboggan after Patrol members stabilized him for about 20 minutes. A chopper was waiting at the bottom of the slope to carry him back to Salt Lake City for shock trauma.

“We have a male caucasian, 6’2″, weight about 200 lbs. He suffered trauma when his skis malfunctioned and he fell headlong into a grove of trees. He was wearing a helmet, but suffered a concussion. He also has a lacerations over much of his body, and a wound from a branch in his chest”, the doctor dictated into his recorder. “Will start to lavage the wound track of the branch and make sure there is no internal bleeding”, he continued.

The doctors worked tirelessly on him and discovered that the wound was deeper than expected and had nicked his bowel requiring surgery to close the bowel and clean out his insides.

After seven hours of surgery, they closed him up and started an IV drip of antibiotics.

A Surprising Gift

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February 1, 2009,

Jack, Sr. totaled the Muscle. “Son, we need to get me a new car.” “No problem, Dad. You and I need to talk. I feel like, I don’t know, I’m being taken advantage of here. You are constantly doing crazy things, I have no ownership interest in these businesses, I haven’t had a raise in five years.” His father blinked, “Son, don’t you want me to be happy? I built these dealerships and it was my name that built them. After your Mom died, I admit, I’ve been a bit crazy, but before that I scrimped and saved to build the business. This is my mad money.” Junior said, “But Dad, I’m running the business now. I should get something.” His dad smiled, “You’re right, I’ll tell Oscar to issue you a 10 percent ownership in the holding company as a bonus for all your good work.”

February 20, 2009.

“Here’s your stock certificate, Junior. By the way, I have to up your withholdings this year since this is taxable to you,” Oscar said in a matter of fact tone. “Taxable?” asked Junior. “That’s the law, son”. “Oh and son, when is that new car going to be delivered?” “We’re having it tricked out special for your dad.” After Oscar left the office, Junior threw an ash tray across the room shattering it. “Son of a bitch, we’ll have that car real tricked out alright.”

Hi, meet my new squeeze

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August 30, 2008.

“Junior, I’ve decided to take a trip to Hawaii. Babs and Fawn here want me to show them Diamondhead. I’ll see you next month.” The call sent shock waves down Junior’s spine. “ What if he meets some bimbo and decides to marry her? Where will that leave me?” he thought.

September 30, 2008.

Senior comes home from Hawaii with the requisite tan. He checks the lots to see how sales are going, then shoots a few television ads with Babs and Fawn getting some promised screen time, and spends the next few weeks doing personal appearances. Of course the ulterior motive was that college football season was well under way, he didn’t want to miss those Crimson Tide games. Junior noted a change in his father. Once very cautious, his father’s behavior became more and more reckless. He announced that he was going skiing in Utah in December. He started driving around the souped up very ungreen Muscle that Bipco Motors had released much to its chagrin. Not a green car in any stretch of the imagination.

October 17, 2008.

“Come on in Junior”, Jack Jenkins motioned to his son standing outside of a Tuscaloosa hotel room. “This is Bonnie and what’s your name darlin’ I forgot”? The smell of bourbon and young women with cheap cologne filled the room. Not that Junior was a prude, he had just left the dorm room of a Cheerleader whose name he had already forgotten having celebrated another Bama Victory. Junior replied, “no thanks, Dad, sorry to interrupt, just wanted to go over the September sales figures with you like we discussed yesterday.” “Well come back in the late morning son, we’ll have brunch.”

January 21, 2009.

“Junior, despite the depression, I think your dad’s car dealerships are worth about $100 Million. You need to tie him down and do some estate planning,” the company accountant told Junior. “Otherwise, Uncle Sugar going to get $50 Million from your sorry butt, unless of course your dad happens to die during the year 2010 when there is no estate tax.” Junior laughed, “No chance of that happening unless it’s a jealous husband, boyfriend or angry father. Dad’s been spreading the love, shall we say. “Well marriage would save a ton of taxes, but a prenup would be an absolute necessity”. Junior cringed at the thought of his dad marrying some hot babe who would soon be eating bon bons and giving birth to future siblings.