BE AFRAID, BE VERY AFRAID

Every year as tax-time edges nearer to my checkbook, I am confronted with fears. Not fear that I may have paid too much or too little, both of which are a common reality. In the grand labyrinth of our tax code, has anyone ever paid in exactly what they owe?

No, this gut-turning dread comes from a fear of my government. Yes, "We the People" fear Washington. Fear that one day men in black suits driving black SUVs, bearing IRS badges will show up at my door. When the Internal Revenue Service is involved, the rule is "guilty until proven innocent."

Until now, that dread has been seasonal: tax-time. But times, they are a changin'.

With the IRS assuming enforcement of health care, and hiring tens of thousands of agents with the mandate of "health care or else," that gnawing little voice in the back of my head will speak to me—and you—all year long, year after year. Every time you go through the rigamarole of signing up for health insurance, use your flex account (if the benevolent government lets you keep one), each time you visit the doctor, need a prescription, or have to show your shiny new government-issue heath care card, there will be that momentary, "What if it doesn't work this time?" moment. "What if I'm turned down?" "What if someone didn't file the right paperwork in triplicate and the computer says I don't deserve this treatment?"

I can't wait for that moment when I actually say, "Gee, I remember when I only had to deal with the IRS once a year. Boy those were the days!"

Now there is change you can believe in.