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Middle Class Tax Revolt Are you fed up with high property taxes? Are you frustrated because each year your tax bill for municipal services and schools gets a little bigger and there is nothing you can do about it? ' If you are, and you would like to do something about it; you could move to sunny California. Last week, property owners in that state took an unprecedented step that is having repercussions all the way to the White House, and is creating a bit of stir among municipal politicians in Canadian pro- ; vinces. What the good citizens of California did quite simply, was reduce in one fell swoop their collective property taxes by a whopping $7 billion (an average of $800 on a $1400 annual tax bill). They also rolled back assessment rates to the 1975 levels, and limited future increases in taxes to two per cent, unless a property is sold. Jou 5HoUlD4 sEEN THE ONE THAT GOT Away' / 11 was THAT Far over THE INTERNATIONAL LINE |" How they managed to do this is also quite simple. Nearly 1.5 million signatures were gathered in favour of the cuts, and the proposals went on a state wide referendum known as Proposition 13. There can be little doubt that property owners in that state were fed up with sky-rocketing taxes (in some areas as high as 25 per cent a year) and despite pleas from municipal and school board officials, police, fire and other essential services, and even the state governor, the proposals passed by a majority of better than two to one: Immediately, city and county officials across the state started issuing pink slips to municipal em- ployees, and there were all kinds of dire warnings about massive teacher lay-offs, drastic cuts in police and fire fighting services and the likelihood of increased crime in the streets. . No doubt the implications of an immediate cut in half of monies to local municipalities from property taxes will have serious affects on services, and the victory by the middle class in this issue may very N RRR _ RNR 00000 SOCOROONN CRM SWAN > SW ress 00s08s080880PIPFILIIIS Sa: oy Cry = EA". ho Foye ~ 2 NNN a pre ett e NNN NNN SUNN 7 7 A 7 Z RRR TR RELEEEERRN AA RCN hy Sa W Aa Ste SRN editoriol poge well backfire in their faces. Time alone will tell. But one thing is certain. The citizens of Californ- ia who voted overwhelmingly in favour of Proposi- tion 13 were echoing the frustrations of the middle class all over North America who are finding that the simple dream of owning a home is becoming more of an illusion every year. We haven't heard the end of Proposition 13, not by a long shot. Its validity will likely end before the courts. And while outsiders may consider the out- come a little drastic, there are a couple of lessons to be learned by all of us. The first is that the people who pay taxes should have more direct say in how much they are to shell out each year, and the second more important lesson is that the guy in the middle has had it with government spending at all levels. It is time to put the brakes on, time to put a stop to new programs and schemes, lower expectations, and maybe, for the next few years make do with what we have. The "middle class revolt' in California told us all that we either face these unpleasant realities and L "recognize that there is a bottom to the bucket, or watch home and property ownership slip forever from the grasp of low and middle income wage earners. Property taxes in Ontario are not at this time as high generally as those in California, but there have been some dramatic rises in recent years. As the citizens here do not have access to a mechanism like direct referendum, the task of getting a hold on tax hikes lies with our local and provincial politicians, and our school boards. But no sooner had the incredible results of " Proposition 13 flashed across the continent last week, when provincial treasurer, Darcy McKeough an- nounced to-the legislature that the on-again, off- again government proposal on property tax reform was off, this time apparently for good. After nine years and a half-million dollar study, known as the Blair Report, the concept of reform through market value assessment which would have eased the tax burden in most areas out-side Metro Toronto, and the burden on those with newer homes, is not to be brought in this year, or next year for that *® matter. The issue is a complex one that might have cost the provincial treasury hundreds of millions in grants and credits to local municipalities, would definitely have hurt home owners in Toronto, and has created a split among local politicians around the province. Whatever the reasons, one can only hope that politicians at all levels in Ontario get the message out of California: namely, that the time to get a grip on taxes is now. While the ramifications of Proposi- tion 13 will end up hurting Californians in the long run, the "revolt of the middle class" should not be @ taken lightly by those who rule in Ontario. RG PASS oh, =e oo ==0 _-- ® Crazy Wives QUICK now. What is exactly like a Quebec politician: always wanting a bit more than there is in the kitty; quick to anger; deliberately misunderstand feelers of amia- bility; vaguely threatening separation; charming one minute, abrasive the next? Give up? I thought everyone would get 100 per cent on that. Answer: a wife. Sometimes, I wish I had been married three or four times. Not because I am a sex fiend, or because I want a change of cooks every few years, or because I don't like the way my socks disappear in the dryer. No. Just to find out if other men's wives are as crazy as mine. Back in the good old days before women's lib, men just heaved a universal, brotherly sigh, and groaned: "Women..." Everybody 1, who counted (all adult males and small i boys), knew exactly what was meant by the 14] big shrug that accompanied this ambiguous y two-syllable lament. Even the women knew what it meant, and smirked slyly, tactitly admitting they had us be the short and curly, and there wasn't a ey dang thing we could do about it except endure. Nowadays, if you get some guy in a dark corner in a bar, and try to tell him your wife is crazy, he's probably so house-trained that he'll look up at you in horror, glance nervously over his shoulder, and blurt: 'Oh, no! Perhaps a little volatile, a trifle mercurial, but that's all." Then, casting a swift glom around, he might whisper: "No crazier than the sea, which is also affected by the moon." There's no comfort in people like that. He's the type who probably scrubs the kitchen floor every Saturday morning, delivers his kids to their music lesson, and mows the lawn himself, even though he knows these are his wife's perogatives and privileges. I don't for one minute suggest that my wife is crazier than other wives. I couldn't in all honesty, and without prejudice. I've seen some pretty crazy wives in my day. But I think I'd put some money on her if it came to a contest. And I'm a cautious bettor. Perhaps the only way I can describe her is in sports' terms. She is like a boxer with a long left jab that keeps you off balance, and a mean right hook that can come in out of left field at any time. I trust I am being obscure. Obscurity is what I have need of, when this appears in print. It's not that we don't get along. We get along and along and along. Thirty years is a long time to be married to a strange woman. Perhaps it's the fault of The Lord. He made man in His own image: decent, upright, honorable, straight forward, sense of humour. I can just hear Him saying: "A poor, forked, naked thing, but Mine own." Then His sense of humour got out of hand. He took one of Adam's ribs (note it was not a tooth or an ear or a toe) and made Woman. Notice the connection. A rib is both concave and convex, just like a dame. Imagine what women would look like if He had taken a toe. But He wasn't satisfied with condemning men to heart attacks because they were missing a rib, and things are inclined to cave in on a chap. I can almost hear Him giggling as He took, not one of Adam's Yoda, run-of-the-mill ribs, but his crazy rib. This was the rib that Adam couldn't seem to control. Sometimes it made him pant breathlessly. Sometimes it grew a sharp end, punched him in the guts and gave him an ulcer. Sometimes it seemed to float, and when he put out his hand to grasp it, it wasn't there. Sometimes it sang the sweetest of songs, all by itself. At others, it gave him a pain in the arm. We head out to a party with friends, and she tells me I have the most beautiful blue eyes in the world, after Paul Newman. I tell her she looks pretty good, too. Five hours later, after I have delivered an extremely lucid lecture on sex after death, polygamy among penguins, or the iniquity of high school principals, she tells me that I am a rotten father, husband, and grandfather, that she's sick of hearing me click my "partial plate," and that my eyes look like those of an alligator crossed with a sleepy parrot. We used to go to church on Sunday morning, and have our sins washed away, or at least slightly rinsed. Nowadays, we have a Revival Meeting on Sunday mornings. From a long list, meticulously hidden in that floating rib, she produces sins of omission and commission that make me a combina- tion of Attila the Hun and Henry the Eighth, with a little dash of Richard Nixon thrown in. Absolutely adament, she says: "And not another nickel to that daughter of yours." Two days later, she sends her a cheque for $200 to pay the ever-behind rent. [I've slipped the kid only a lousy hundred. Then she rages: "And no way are those boys going to come and destroy the house! Just look at that - you name it, they've done it." Three hours later, on the phone: "Of course, darling, we'll take the boys for two weeks while you sort out your psyche." Women is crazy. J 8