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By Tim Istock

For the Clemmons Courier

So there’s a commercial on the radio for a tax debt resolution company that claims their team of qualified tax accountants and enrolled agents can work to significantly reduce one’s delinquent IRS tax liability. This claim is backed up with exuberant testimonials of clients who have apparently enlisted their services and managed to extricate themselves from some rather impressive tax obligations, and they go something like this:

“Stu from Kalamazoo owed over $256,000 in back taxes to the IRS, and after throwing in with the experts at The Grateful Debt Tax Relief Company, walked away only having to pay a hundred and forty-seven dollars. Clayton from Dayton owed the IRS $178,000 and ended up settling with the IRS for a mere 38 bucks.”

Hmmm . . ok, so let’s cut to the quick here. First off, can these remarkable testaments actually be true? And more importantly, if in fact they are true, why is it again now that I’m busting my butt each and every year to completely pay my fair share of taxes, and doing it by the required filing deadline to boot?

And then there’s the commercial from the national restaurant chain proudly proclaiming they offer only “honest food” with “clean ingredients.”

You don’t say?

So tell me, which restaurants out there are serving up dirty food to folks, because I for one would really like to know? And more curious still, how can food be dishonest in the first place? Look, if we’re talking about restaurant owners or their marketing agents or maybe even servers for that matter, then sure, I can see where maybe sometimes that is true, for whenever human beings are involved in anything there is always the potential for deception, but food? I mean, seriously, what are we talking about here, a Polish sausage intentionally masquerading as an Italian sausage, or maybe a foot long hot dog not letting on that it is in actuality only 10 inches long? I mean, Holy Rocky Mountain oysters Batman, what is this world coming to when you can’t even trust a hot dog to be frank with you?

And lastly, how many of you have seen the following TV commercial:

A sketchy looking individual is seen roaming around inside a house when he is confronted with the following announcement:

“C.Y.A. Security . . . identify yourself.”

Uh . . really?

Now listen, I’m not going to argue the fact that maybe, just maybe, the utter surprise of such an unexpected verbal command might prompt a novice home invader to suddenly get cold feet and skedaddle out of the premises before finishing his dirty work, but . . . I have to admit that I find it really hard to fathom the notion that even the dumbest of dim witted criminals would actually go so far as to voluntarily provide any information as to their identity.

But hey, what do I know? I’ve certainly been wrong before.

“Huh? Me? Oh sure . .  my name is Robin Ewe, that’s Ewe with a “E” and not a “Y”, and I live at 345 Big House Lane in Alcatraz Heights. I’m 5 ‘ 9” and 254 pounds with blue eyes, blonde hair, and a tattoo on my left arm that reads, Crime Pays My Bills. I’m driving a 2007 powder blue Toyota Corolla, expired license plate number CON-4573 and sporting a Felons Are People Too bumper sticker. Now, I’ve got a few other houses to hit after I leave this one, but I should be home around 3 AM if you need to reach me in person, otherwise, you can call me on my cell at 487-7377, again, that’s 487 – PERP.  If I don’t answer right away it’s probably because I’ve got my hands full, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I’ve finished unloading my car.”