January has come and gone. This writer has been given another birthday to look forward for rounding towards 80. The CEO of this outfit has gathered 1099 forms like a greedy squirrel. Don't want the IRS coming ‘round here asking questions.
"Nawsiree…!"
Punxsutawney Phil crawled out to look for his shadow somewhere in a Pennsylvania village and allowed those selfish Yankees to hold him up for the hordes and cameras to see his fat little self mid-slumber. This year Fat Phil blinked, the top hats declared an early Spring, and here we wait.
February is shortened to 28 days for three years. Then the...
