STRANGER THAN FICTION: BACK WHEN A DOLLAR MEANT SOMETHING

My state taxes were slipped into the post office slot under cover of darkness Monday night.

The federal forms were filed weeks ago, about two minutes after the accountant announced The Other Half and I were getting a refund. We had to pay the state, thus the delay.

Young romantics thinking about marriage, consider this: Our income tax refunds were a combined FOUR HUNDRED DOLLARS less than last year, when we were single. That's a month's rent, or five dresses, or two car payments, or 15 pairs of shoes, or a three-day weekend in Nashville.... You get the picture.

All those dreams of paying off bills and taking a long trip on our whopping tax refund went up in smoke.

This makes me think that we should have been married by a minister but never filed the paperwork. Then God would know we were man and wife, but the Internal Revenue Service would not -- or are they the same entity.

My 1994 taxes were completed by a very nice lady with very bad luck. I took them to her around April 1, but she got sick and filed an extension, good until August. Then her daughter had complications during childbirth. These complications lasted long after the babys delivery, so the lady filed another extension, good until October.

On the last day possible, I picked up my taxes. They were neatly done and only cost me $25. On the extension forms, it said, "I was unable to file my taxes because of the flooding of the Mississippi River."That sounds so much better than, "I come from a sickly family and my client was too stupid to do her own taxes and too chicken to take her forms away from me."Actually, I tried to make an appointment with her again this year, but she couldn't accept any more clients. Go figure.

Remember the good old days when a buck really meant something and your parents were the only ones worrying about taxes? My favorite activity as a child was counting the money Id saved.

When I was 9, my single mother planned a trip to King's Dominion in Virginia. I saved $22 in allowance and lawnmowing money and counted it incessantly, when I wasn't packing and repacking a paper sack that served as my suitcase.

Unfortunately, in my excitement, I left the paper sack by the door. Mom made me spend part of my $22 for clothes. Looking for the best bargain, I bought a pair of navy polyester shorts with an elastic waistband and a T-shirt that said, "I $pent my vacation at the gas station."It was during the 1970s gas crisis, you know.

The rest went for $5 sodas at the money-grubbing amusement park. Easy come, easy go.

Apparently every kid has foibles with her money. My buddy Olivia said she used to save all her allowance except for the 99 cents she spent weekly at the hot-dog, chips and soda cart. Her brother stole the rest or held her teddy bear for ransom until she gave him the money.

He's in prison now. Just kidding.

The Other Half's mom gave him $10 to buy Christmas presents for the family one year. He bought a few choice items, kept them, and wrapped up a 10-cent rubber ball for his brother. Mom and Dad got construction-paper Santas with cotton-ball beards made in school.

And fellow columnist Marc Powers almost choked on a quarter when he was little, but he coughed it up and matured to become a journalist.

Now he doesn't have any money to swallow.

Heidi Nieland is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.