Firefighter, 'Public Safety Officer' - When Tax-Free ... Might Not Be...

No ‘April Fools’ here, I read that the 2014 Tax Code had 73,954 pages. Apparently, our CPA hasn’t read them all. Just saying 😊

So, if there wasn’t enough craziness to prove once again why I made an edit to one of my key ‘life mantra’s’, our ‘not-so-friend’ IRS, has provided one more. First my mantra was: “Simplicity, Flexibility and Availability”. That mantra later was changed to: “Simplicity (complexity happens), Flexibility and Availability”. Maybe it’s ‘too’ obvious to not expect that ‘IRS’ and ‘Complexity’ are often synonyms.

'Taxable Amount' ... same as 'Gross Distribution'

The year 2019 is the fourth year that we’ve utilized part of the 2006 ‘Pension Protection Act’, that is particular to “Public Safety Officers”.  (See page 18 of the 'Summary of the Pension Protection Act of 2006' and 'Distributions to Public Safety Officers). Those included within this cadre are, “Law enforcement officer, firefighter, chaplain, or a member of a rescue squad or ambulance crew”.

The PPA allows a member to draw up to $3,000 from an eligible retirement plan and to be used toward medical expenses “tax free”. For myself I use our 457. For the years 2016 and 2017 I made distributions for both the PPA and for additional expenses. But in 2018 we I only made a draw for the $3,000 PSO distribution. So you can imagine my surprise when I looked at our 1099-R from our financial institution for all three years, and see that line 1 ‘Gross Distribution’ and line 2a ‘Taxable Amount’ are identical. So the initial obvious thought was that our 1099-R was completed incorrectly by the company. Oh no, that would be to easy. No, in fact this is the method in which the IRS has set this up.

How do I know this? I’m glad you asked. Go to the ‘Instructions for Forms 1099-R’ and scroll down to ‘Box 2a Taxable Amount’. There you find that the 1099-R is NOT to reduce the ‘$3,000 exclusion’. Common sense says, “This would be a great place to reduce an amount that you’re not going to be required to pay taxes on. For it says, “Taxable Amount”, but no, again this would be to easy.”

So Rick, what’s the BOTTOM LINE? When you make a draw from your financial institution, they do not withhold taxes. But, when you receive your 1099-R the $3,000 IS included in both your ‘Gross distribution’ and ‘Taxable amount’. So…in order to not pay taxes YOU MUST reduce the ‘Taxable amount’ somewhere. And our friend the IRS has decided that in 2017 and prior that you would make this distinction on Line 16 of Form 1040, ‘Pensions and annuities’. In 2018 the line is changed to ‘4’ and called, ‘IRA’s, pensions, and annuities’. As stated in Publication 575, not to be mistaken with Publication 757 (how to pass a kidney stone tax-free), page 6 says, “reduce the amount ($3,000) on Form 1040, line 4b”. Then you add, “PSO” adjacent and walla, you’re done.

Seriously, how difficult was that? Honestly, I’m pretty sure that the IRS has been smoking something funny for much longer than it has been allowed in Oregon. Totally dude!

Reduce '4a' by $3,000 place into '4b' and write 'PSO' to the left

 Anyway, it’s just possible that your CPA is not aware of the above information. Please let them (and our fellow PSO's) know, make your appropriate amendments, save some taxes and … have yourself a skinny salted caramel latte without cream.  

Thank you, 'Dan Mitchell' *

*Found at danieljmitchell.wordpress.com/2012/04/07/some-cartoons-to-help-you-prepare-for-tax-week/ 

Smell of The Mitt

The 'Dodger' 1970-72

To most, seeing someone with their face stuck into one’s baseball mitt would just be down right silly. But, for a twelve-year-old boy, the smell from the leather of the glove and that of the ball, well, it was just heavenly. Add to these the warmth of the California sunshine, the brilliant blue sky and diving into the lush green grass, nothing, no nothing else came close to perfection in this boy’s mind.

The 'Hall of Famer'

It was 1970, beginning what was my third year of playing baseball, my first as a Dodger. Seriously, Los Angeles, baseball, Dodger…perhaps you can’t imagine the thrill that this twelve-year-old was experiencing. Though both the great Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale had just recently retired, still there was Hall of Famer Don Sutton on the mound, Wes Parker at first base (Steve Garvey, soon to be the starter), or my favorite, Willie Davis in centerfield. It was a time that, well, I knew baseball like the back of my hand. No, better than the back of my hand.

 I would go on to play more than 200 hundred games during those childhood and youth years. I would have even missed meals just to get into a game. I imagine that there were times when I questioned where he was, but typically, just playing was worth him not showing up. To my dad’s credit, other than my ‘Babe Dahlgren’ story, which I shared in a post called, ‘Baseball and the Babe’, that Spring afternoon game at Dodger Stadium stands out as the greatest.

The Dodgers had just returned from Vero Beach, where they played their preseason games. They had one more game before the season began. It was against our own College hero’s, the USC Trojans. Both teams had three championships over the past decade, and the future looked bright.

'Man Wall' with Baseball Memoirs

Seriously, the only part of the game that I recall, was when the Dodgers took the field for warmups. The infielders were warming up in make-believe style. That is, they didn’t have a ball. They pretended to throw the ball on the ground and in the air, making great throws and leaps in order to keep the ball in play.

My 'Dodger' Team

On this particular afternoon … an amazing beautiful day, at Dodger Stadium, playing the Trojans, with my dad sitting next to me. Memories.....they just don’t get much better.

Fathers...you, we have a great opportunity to make lasting impressions upon our sons. My encouragement, make this your life's goal. Paul says, "Fathers, bring your children up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord." Ephesians 6:4

It’s Just A SIM Card …

It always seemed like it was ‘just a matter of time’ before my journey would return me to San Luis Rio Colorado. Over the past four years that reality has been more than an itch, it has become a determination. And that determination came to fruition in February of 2019

After two deployments with Team Rubicon in Southern California, I continued south through the border at Algodones and then the short distance onward to San Luis.

In preparation for this trip I had decided on three primary goals. One, for it to be a trip of Spanish immersion. Two, to bring baseball equipment, coaching baseball clinics. And three, well three is whatever or however the Lord might direct.

Angel & Luis - an hour before my departure

So why San Luis? For five years between 1998 and 2002 I had the privilege to join and co-lead teams, mainly composed of youth, to this city about the size of Salem, Oregon. During those years we were able to accomplish many projects including VBS, and building a church, named Betania, as well as a few homes. Typically we would arrive on Sunday afternoon, with our building supplies not far behind. Though in the year 2000, we never saw them until Tuesday afternoon. So, the obvious question was, what do we do now?

With the Vega Family - 2002

A key goal for Jon and I during those years was ‘relationships’. It would be one thing to build a home, but without building relationships in the process, well, would we not be missing the point. One such relationship was with the Vega family. Heriberto, Gudelia and their six beautiful children had already a special place in my heart. So, it was natural to ask Heriberto if there was anything that needed repair or that we could assist with on their home. His reply, priceless! “No necesito nada, yo tengo mi salud, mi familia y Jesuscristo es mi salvador”. That is, “I don’t need anything, I have my health, my family and Jesus Christ is my savior”.

Heriberto & Gudelia y Nietos

The following two mornings, with our supplies still delayed, I would ask Heriberto the same question and he would give the same response. Finally, late Tuesday morning I decided to attempt one more time. This time he relented. Melody, one of our youth, and I went over in his Ford Bronco. What happened next has never left my memory. Might I just say that I was glad that I was wearing dark sunglasses as his quote echoed in my head. His simple and humble life overwhelmed me. Right then I mentioned that I would love to build him a house one day. To which he repeated, “No necesito nada, yo tengo mi salud, mi familia y jesuscristo es mi Salvador”. In March of 2002 we were able to fulfill that commitment.

Moving the story forward to February 2^nd, 2019, I went to the most logical location in which I assumed might be just the place to set up my tent. You see, I had the baseball gear, I had my own clothing, I even brought some food for just in case. But, where I might actually stay, and what, exactly might I be doing, these things I did not know.

Sister Ylda Praying For a Worker

Before my arrival to Betania I decided that I better replace my SIM Card with my Mexico card and charge it with minutes at an Oxxo (the main ‘7-Eleven’ store of Mexico). There was but one small problem. I could not get the SIM Card out of the phone. After nearly an hour, three stores in an attempt to find even a paperclip, finally a cashier asked if an earring might work. “Absolutely, I said!”. With the card exchanged and the phone charged I continued the few blocks to the Betania/Bethany church.

Now nearing dusk and no one at Betania, I decided to drive past Templo Berea. How this church even becomes part of the equation is quite providential. You see almost four years to the day I concluded a three month stay in Jalisco Mexico with my last night in San Luis. Through a series of events I was able to find my sister-in-the-Lord, Ylda, pastora of Betania. That late afternoon in February 2015, we drove to a couple of the comedor’s (food kitchen’s) that she had set up. And finally to Templo Berea, where I would enjoy a brief visit with the Vega’s outside of the church before they went in for the evening service.

Now one picture you must set in your mind before I continue is that most of the homes and churches in this area are guarded by fence and locks. Betania had such and Templo Berea the same. As I arrived a man and women had just stepped out of their house adjacent to the church. Now recall, that I would have driven past about an hour prior if I had been able to exchange the SIM cards. And with the fence, well, it's unlikely that I would have even stopped.

Chuy, Andrea, Lupe & Family

I stepped out of my Nissan pickup and walked up to the fence saying, “Hola, me llamo Ricardo Williams yo soy un amigo de Heriberto y Gudelia Vega”. That is, hello my name is Rick Williams, I am a friend of the Vega’s. Before I could say anything further, the wife (Andrea) motioned to her husband (Lupe) and said something. Being more than thirty feet away I could not hear what she had said. Andrea then continue to her van and was off to run an errand and Lupe escorted me to a lovely studio apartment, with a full bathroom, on the second story of the church.

Baseball Clinic #1

What had just happened? How had I gone from most likely setting up camp in my tent to sleeping in a ‘castle’. Well, as providence would have it, Andrea is the baby sister of Gudelia. She had heard the story of this gringo who built a house for her sister over a decade and a half ago. And she even seen my picture many times. You see, in the living room of the Vega’s home are placed six pictures. Five of their family and one of yours truly in front of their newly built home in 2002 with the entire Vega family.

Orfanato with Abraham & Alan

Sobrina Rita, Miguelito & Players

Oh, and Templo Berea, just happens to be a block and half from the only baseball field in the area. Over the next two weeks I would have the privilege to have some Spanish immersion, enjoy six baseball clinics, come to build a new and lasting friendship with many, most notably Lupe, Andrea and Chuy and that “whatever or however the Lord might direct”, well, it was changed to “Por amor de Cristo”. That is, “For the sake of Christ” in our English bible. Found in Philippians 3:7 where Paul says, “I count all things to be loss for the sake of Christ”.

Bethel Orfanato

And if you need more evidence of our Creator’s providence, perhaps being in San Luis exactly at the time that they had planned to visit and assist one of the local orphanages. Or perhaps the discovery of the ‘Algodoneros’ baseball caps. Having searched three different times at multiple stores and coming up empty handed, I went out one last time. While nearing downtown, I could see in the distance the light poles of their stadium. As I approached there was one remaining player, who had just placed his gear into his truck, and was about to head home. Speaking in Spanish I asked if he might perhaps know where I could find baseball hats for the local team. In perfect English he says, “We can talk in English if you’d like”. And, “Yes, I know exactly where you might purchase them”.

All With Algodoneros Hats & Evelyn With Her New Uniform

So, a trip, in planning for more than three years had just been concluded. The lessons learned, much more than what one blog can hold. Suffice it to say, travel slowly, listen deeply and wait for much more than one can even imagine.

Ephesians 3:20-21 - Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

The song was one that I heard while waiting the three hours in line to enter back into the United States of America. 'Gracefully Broken' sung by Matt Redman and Tasha Cobbs Leonard. Powerful!

Orange Nesbitt's ~ Just Another Round ~

When I say two words … ‘Great memories’ … what comes to mind? And if I were to add one particular factor, that is your earliest childhood memory, what would it be? Perhaps as interesting is what is the trigger that ranks this as one of those great memories? For me, it's all about Orange Nesbitt’s.

Many were the visits to the southwest corner of my father’s home state of Iowa, most to good ole Red Oak, but this memory … it takes place in the spot on the road called ‘Hastings'. I challenge you to find it on the map. 

Although I easily recall the two or three trips to Iowa aboard my grandfather's semi, at least one flight, one via car and perhaps even one via train. Whether it was one of these or another, I have not a clue to how I arrived in Hasting on this visit.

If my memory serves me right I stayed with my uncle Jimmy for perhaps three or four nights. It was circa the summer of 1966, with baseball and Sandy Koufax becoming an integral part of this lads life. Shortly after arriving Jimmy took me around the town so I could be familiar with all six or seven streets. Then we walked up to the town center to the store, the post office and the pool hall … oh, of course these were all one and the same. He introduced me to the man behind the counter of the store, no not Oz … most likely the owner. And he told him that he could add whatever his nephew Ricky purchased onto his tab.

Jimmy 1958

The following days were filled with new buddies, a new game called billiards and a childhood favorite Orange Nesbitt’s. On my last visit to downtown Hastings, accompanied by Jimmy, he asked the man behind the counter what the amount was on his nephew's tab. Now remember a soda in the mid sixties was but a mere 10 cents and a candy bar even less at 5 cents. I would imagine that Jimmy was likely expecting that I might have had two, maybe three soda pop's per day and perhaps the same amount of candy bars and hence a tab somewhere between one to two dollars would be reasonable. What my uncle's initial response was, I don't know, but looking back I now realize that the ten dollar plus tab must have been quite the surprise. 

Jimmy 2010

Apparently somewhere I had heard the phrase, “Give them another round on me”. I'm thinking that I made some new found buddies quite happy, at least for a couple days during that summer of 66'. The man behind the counter, well he was making a little extra on Jimmy and I'm sure smiling all the way to the proverbial bank. And uncle Jimmy, he just grinned, paid his nephew Ricky's tab and learned not to be fooled by the savviness of an eight year old boy. 

 There will likely be some in my family whose remembrance of Jimmy is much less favorable. And I totally understand. You see, my uncle Jimmy would become, or was likely even then, an alcoholic. Many lives were hurt in his wake. I know that my own father tried to assist a couple times with jobs, that in turn he would once again lose because of the bottle. 

September of 2010 brought two big surprises in my life. One, the sudden death of my father. Two, while notifying family and friends of his death, to discover that uncle Jimmy, whom I presumed dead since the 90's, was actually alive. Later that month I would call and talk to Jimmy.  Living with his wife in a shelter, Jimmy told me that he had recently received his twenty year sobriety pin. Shame and many burnt bridges had kept him from reconnecting with family. We enjoyed a couple laughs, including the mention of that brief visit and his nephew having quite the affinity for Orange Nesbitt's.

Jimmy died the summer of 2017. I imagine that he was sober until the end. For me, he is often remembered when drinking an orange soda, if only it could be a Nesbitt’s 😃

Just Do...Ing It - Without Fear

On the Honda 550 Four to the Redwoods - 1984

It was the 1960's, in the hometown of my father of Red Oak, Iowa and in the backyard of his kid brother Ronnie, that I first received my initial taste of riding a two-wheeled motor vehicle. Now, fifty years later and multiple on and off-road motorcycle experiences, I find my love for this activity likely greater than any that make up my current repritrar. And possibly ... it may be my all-time most pleasurable pastime. That is saying a lot for a guy that has enjoyed, and continues  many pastimes of SCUBA, baseball, hiking, boating, tennis, amateur photography … and the list continues.

Just to hop upon my FJR or GL1800 provides a peace, relaxation and therapy like none other. It was not always the case. Through the 70's our family had a few minibikes and motorcycles. And in the 1980’s I had my first street bike, that of a Honda 550-Four. Used mainly as a commuter, Karen and I did enjoy (well, we relatively enjoyed) a four day ride down the Oregon coast to the California Redwoods. But when I went looking for a new ride in 2012, it had been more than twenty years since my butt was placed onto a two-wheeled ride of joy. 

Big Horn Mountains - 2013 'Bucket List' Ride

That first bike in June 2012 was a 1999 Yamaha Roadstar. This bike of thirteen years had a mere 8,000 miles on her. Her nearly 700 pounds and 1600 cc’s would be enough for most that fear would have quickly squashed the dream before it even began. I still remember my good buddy Eddy advising against the 1,100 Shadow for the larger Roadstar knowing my dream of distance riding. His, was advise gratefully received 😃 That summer until the cold October mornings, mostly while riding to work, I was able to add 5,000 preparation miles on her. Preparation that is, for one of two ‘Bucket List' motorcycle rides.

Coast to Coast - 2017 ... Birthplace of Yours Truly as Well ...

That first ‘Bucket List’ ride added another 5,000 miles on the Roadstar and took me through Yellowstone and Rushmore to the very place where it all began…Red Oak, Iowa. The eight days with a very special cousin and her parents, uncle Ronnie and aunt Joann will forever be etched into this guys heart and mind. The College World Series, they were just icing on the proverbial cake. The return to Oregon added many additional amazing adventures, but none greater than reconnecting with two Air Force buddies, who had also been part of our wedding party.  

The FJR - ABCity Tour 2018

In the six years since my return to the saddle I've had countless people, friends included, reminding me just how ‘dangerous’ motorcycles are. At times they recount a friend or story of someone who was seriously injured or died. Yes, no doubt of this fact. Yet, I refuse to be governed by fear. Perhaps I wouldn't be on this Boeing 737 if ‘fear' was how I measured life. Rather I choose to ‘Just keep Do…ing it with common sense and without fear.

A favorite singer/song writer as well as a favorite riding song. Thanks brother Rich!

The Way to The Cross

Live long enough and you will undoubtedly experience trials, some will be life changing. Trials are surely part of the trail of life. Yet, the view from the top, absolutely worth it!

The Cross - Above PV

Some of the most wonderful victories came after great endurance. 

The thoughts above are inspired from the best of staircases while once again visiting Puerto Vallarta. It is 6am, the roosters bellow their ever distinct crow, and from our bedroom I'm able to view my goal that I'll set out once again to conquer. For most, it is daunting to consider once let alone daily. And then, once I arrive, the decision will become, how many times? 

I began stairclimbing in 2005. Then, as a 47 year old, it was to honor my mother who died of cancer at that very age. Most climbs have the added benefit of raising funds for cancer, cystic fibrosis or several other great causes. My very first competition, I call “The Beast”, was as a firefighter climb in Seattle's Columbia Center. Sixty-nine stories, 1311 steps of pure EXHAUSTION!  And yet, isn't that just what life often throws at us…pure exhaustion? 

Staircases - Thousands Across the City

From our apartment it will take just over twenty minutes to reach the cross. As in life, the trail goes down before it goes up. And unfortunately you don't just descend once. No, the trail descends and ascends multiple times. Yet, once at the top, the beauty, the refreshment of the body, the soul… it all becomes worth the agony. Which, is made less, quite less, by regular training.

A Steep Descent

Most will make this particular climb once or perhaps as an annual event. Many will struggle with each of the 205 steps for the cross that sits atop. Kind of a pilgrimage of sorts. This is part of my pursuit as well. From this perspective I reflect on the life of the Christ, whose journey took Him to the cross. His ‘way to the cross' definitely had descents and ascents. None greater than which occurred three days after being placed into the tomb. There, in His resurrection, stands the pinnacle of our faith. And finally, after time with His disciples and many followers, all giving witness to His, and our ultimate victory… over death…He made His final ascent.

The Grand-daddy of Staircases

The moral of this blog … life will always be full of trails (or crosses) that descend into valleys before ascending to the mountaintop. In daily life, if I could encourage you to prepare yourself through regular disciplines, i.e. by exercise and reading good books, especially the bible. For myself, I have found that the ascent is so much less daunting when I have done such.

The Reward - The View Across Banderas Bay

Well, I'm off once again to make my way to the cross. Perhaps you'll join me one day. Not just here in PV, but to His cross that was placed on Calvary. That ascent, though trials continue to persist, makes life less daunting.

This blog I dedicate to Nan Turner Jopp who made her final ascent to the Father this week. Dad and you ... some SPECIAL people!