During a Financial Accounting Foundation Oversight Committee meeting held last week, the Government Accounting Standards Board (GASB) announced that it is launching a series of short videos to help lawmakers understand financial reports.

Previously, GASB published user guides to help lawmakers, but according to GASB’s chair, Joel Black, “In this day and age, very few elected officials, if any, are probably going to read a 200-page PDF.”

I’m all in favor of using technology to help make difficult things easier to understand, but using short videos that I imagine as TikTok videos to help lawmakers understand financial reports doesn’t give me a lot of confidence in our lawmakers. At Spidell, we often pore over hundreds of pages of tax legislation. If we can read what lawmakers pass, shouldn’t we expect them to read financial reports that they base their votes on? And if 200 pages is too long for them, then who is reading the 800-page bills they are passing (other than us)?

In my limited spare time, I have worked on learning more about AI and how I can best use it in my practice and everyday life, but this new revelation from GASB makes me wonder if I can get AI to create a 10-minute video explaining every nuance of the One Big, Beautiful Bill Act, but I can’t imagine AI can even do that.

Feeling like if you are handed one more shoe box of receipts, you’ll likely launch them into outer space?

Halfway through the tax season and desperately needing a quick rejuvenating getaway to get through the dog days of March?

Well, for those of us living in Southern California, the answer may just be a few short hours away. And even if you don’t literally make it to the stars, you may be able to ride the sound waves to an altered state of mind.

I’ve lived in San Diego for 25 years now and thought I’d discovered all of the quirky out-of-the-way places to go, but last week I uncovered something that had previously escaped my radar: the Integratron.

Located near Joshua Tree National Park, the Integratron, a large white domelike structure, was built by George Van Tassel. Van Tassel was a former aviation engineer for Lockheed and Douglas Aircraft (of Howard Hughes fame), who felt compelled to build the structure after having had an encounter in 1953 with Solganda, a 700-year-old visitor from the planet Venus. The meeting occurred after Van Tassel had sat for several hours under Giant Rock, a seven-story high boulder in the Mojave Desert, to commune with Native American spirits.

According to Van Tassel, Solganda’s space craft landed on an airstrip located next to Van Tassel’s home and that Solganda wore a gray-one-piece bodysuit, spoke perfect English, and had come to Earth because “Earthlings’ reliance on metal building materials was interfering with radio frequencies and disrupting interplanetary ‘thought transfers.’”¹ But the greatest takeaway that Van Tassel got from his meeting with Solganda was that he was given a formula to build a “machine that would generate energy to suspend the laws of gravity, extend human life, and facilitate high-speed time travel.” Hence the Integratron, which took over 20 years to build.

Unfortunately, Van Tassel died in 1978, alas, not having been able to extend his life and, as far as we know, without having been able to time travel. However, all is not lost. Three sisters, originally from the East Coast, have purchased the Integratron. And although not claiming to offer exactly all that Solganda had promised, the sisters do offer amazing sound bath experiences that I’m sure can elevate you to another plane psychologically, make you feel younger (at least for a moment or two), and, most importantly, transport you away from your computers for at least a day or two.

I for one am signing up! Care to join me? Details are available at www.integratron.com/.

If you can dream it, you can sue someone for it. Footlong sub is only 11 inches?¹ Lawsuit. Texas Pete hot sauce is made in North Carolina?² Lawsuit. Mozzarella sticks don’t actually contain any mozzarella?³ How dare you! Lawsuit.

Here are a few examples of products that failed to live up to lofty consumer expectations.

Burnt by the sun

Benjamin Careathers sued Red Bull for false advertising, claiming that while he knows that Red Bull won’t literally give you “wiiiiings,” it was dishonest advertising because Red Bull should give a higher energy boost than coffee.⁴ It turns out that Red Bull actually has less caffeine than an average cup of coffee. Careathers won, and Red Bull shelled out $13 million to customers. Anyone in the U.S. who bought at least one can of Red Bull (no proof of purchase required) was entitled to $10 cash or $15 worth of Red Bull product.⁵

Melting under pressure

Amanda Ramirez sued Kraft over the statement on the packaging of Velveeta Shells & Cheese Original Microwaveable that states “Ready within 3½ minutes.”⁶ She alleged that these instructions only describe the cooking time and fail to take into account the time it takes to remove the lid, add the cheese sauce, add water, and stir. Had she known it would take longer than the stated time, she claimed she never would have purchased the product. Ramirez was seeking $5 million, but a judge dismissed the case because she “suffered no injury.”

De minimis lime

Rachael Barnett sued Frito-Lay after her experience with their Hint of Lime Tostitos soured.⁷ Barnett argued that “she expected it would have more of the named fruit ingredient, not just for flavor but for its nutritive value.” Her claim argued people increasingly turn to snacks that provide a healthy indulgence through ingredients associated with positive health benefits. The case was voluntarily dismissed, indicating a probable settlement. Note: This was the same attorney that represented Ramirez in the Shells & Cheese case. Spencer Sheehan is apparently known mostly for going after vanilla-flavored products that contain no actual vanilla and is known as “the Vanilla Vigilante.”⁸

While it may seem like fast money, these types of suits are very often (rightfully) dismissed. But if the plaintiff does win, the settlement is probably taxable and don’t forget about attorney fees, which take up a minimum of 25% to 30% of the legal award/settlement. Remember that individual taxpayers can no longer deduct attorney fees and costs following OBBBA making permanent the repeal of the 2% miscellaneous itemized deduction. However, an above-the-line deduction from gross income is still available if the fees and costs are paid in connection with any action involving a claim of unlawful discrimination (the above suits no doubt would not fall into this category).

There are two arenas in life where ordinary, respectable people are lured down a dark path, throwing the rules out the window and hoping no one will notice: the curling rink and the tax return.

The Canadian men’s curling team showed us this at the 2026 Olympics, when a player was accused of illegally touching a stone mid-play. It was a transgression so subtle it required video review to confirm, and yet apparently is something that “happens all the time”… the home office deduction of a sport otherwise known for its honesty and sportsmanship. (“Yes, my home office equals the entire square footage of my apartment.”)

What follows is a comparison of two of history’s great cheating traditions: one played in ugly pants and Teflon-bottomed shoes, one played in reading glasses in front of a pile of receipts. The strategies are more similar than you’d think.

• The double touch vs. the double deduction: In curling, touching a stone twice is illegal. In the tax world, this is the equivalent of divorced parents both claiming their child as a dependent.
• The spirit of curling versus the letter of curling: The Canadian player reportedly said he didn’t intentionally touch the stone; the Swedish team challenged — how could you touch 42 pounds of freezing granite and not feel it? Sounds like, “Well, it’s not my fault if I didn’t get a 1099 for that income” [leaves the income off the return].
• The sweep: In curling, teammates furiously sweep the ice to influence the stone’s path. When cheating on your taxes, you also sweep — frantically sweeping receipts into a shoebox and hoping the auditor doesn’t look too hard.
• The penalty: In curling, a “burnt” (i.e., illegally touched) stone is removed. In taxes, the IRS essentially does the same thing, except your deduction is the stone being removed.

When you cheat in curling, it happens on a world stage with cameras everywhere. Tax cheating happens on a laptop with Doritos crumbs stuck between the keys at 11p.m. in March, and yet somehow the IRS still finds out. The lesson from Canada’s curling scandal is timeless: Whether you’re on the ice or filing your return, the moment you think no one is watching is exactly when everyone is watching.

Okay, March is around the corner, which means things are starting to get a little tense. Here’s a few accounting puns to provide a little relief (no pun intended):

• Don’t hate, depreciate.
• It’s an accrual world.
• Accountants work their assets off.
• Accountants are great at relationships — they always know how to carry one.
• Auditors are just accountants with trust issues.
• I’m not lazy, I’m just on deferred action.
• I tried to come up with a tax pun … but I didn’t want to push my levy.
• Why did the accountant break up? There was too much ledger drama.
• My accountant has a great sense of humor — his jokes always have a net positive effect.
• Some people find accounting boring. I find it very taxing.
• I’m outstanding in my field — my boss put me on accounts receivable.
• Never trust an accountant who’s always losing their balance.
• Accountants know the most romantic way to propose is with an engagement letter.
• Why are accountants so calm? Because nothing phases them — only phases in and phases out.
• Why do accountants make good lovers? They’re great at going over the figures.
• Accountants are audit and a bag of chips.  

Do you have some other puns to share? Send them to us at: Editor@spidell.com.

In last week’s Tax Season Tribune article Olympic gold (sort of), I ruffled some feathers within our reader base by not-so-subtly suggesting that Olympic handball isn’t a “real sport.” One kind soul took the time to send me a link to a YouTube video produced by USA Team Handball that explains the sport to an American audience.

After watching the video and taking our reader criticism to heart, I will concede that handball is more of a sport than I gave it credit for last week.

In the spirit of paying it forward, here’s the YouTube link for the short three-minute video www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWh4tmKtIuw.

I was shocked when I saw a news story recently when a U.S. gold medalist from the Winter Olympics in Milan, Italy, was showing off her broken medal. Apparently, it broke while she was jumping around in excitement. That bit of cheap craftsmanship led me down a rabbit hole of investigating a little more about Olympic medals.

Did you know that Olympic gold medals are not made of solid gold? I was absolutely shocked by that until I learned that if they were made of solid gold, a single medal would cost about $45,000 at the current cost of gold. But, even then, you may think to yourself, as I did, that $45,000 is a worthy prize for taking the top spot in your sport.

That word “sport” is used rather loosely in the Olympics these days, isn’t it? I’m not one to make fun of curling (much); it’s a fun activity with a group of friends that’s played on a surface that doubles as a beer cooler. But is it a “sport”? Do we really want to give a $45,000 medal to all five members of an Olympic curling team? Isn’t curling just a Canadian version of cornhole? (Okay, fine, it was technically invented in Scotland, but let’s not get technical.)

And what about larger teams? Olympic hockey carries a 25-person roster (25 players × $45,000 gold medals = $1,125,000). That’s a hefty cost. You might suggest that hockey is a popular sport, so the medal cost is justified. I might agree with you on hockey, but when we get to the summer Olympics, there is no way you are going to convince me that Olympic handball, which carries a 14-person roster, is worthy of $45,000 medals per person! How on earth did handball become an Olympic sport? I would apologize to the Olympic handball teams, but I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking.

Moving away from the top of the podium, if you’re curious, Olympic silver medals are made of solid sterling silver and carry a cost of under $1,500 each, and third place carries solid, authentic bronze at a whopping cost of $6 apiece. Maybe we should give the marquee, one-athlete sports solid gold and give the handball players solid bronze and just tell them it’s gold. After all, someone told them handball was a real sport and they believed it.

On September 24, 2025, accounting industry groups including the Minnesota Society of CPAs gathered at the Target Center in Minneapolis to create the longest line of calculators.¹ Their world record total added up to 1,094.

By our math that’s enough calculators to give one to every attendee at one of our tax update seminars in Anaheim, historically Spidell’s largest in-person location. But even that falls well short of the world record for the largest taxation lesson. In 2018, 3,378 people attended a class taught by the Institute of Company Secretaries of India.²

Some other sums

In 2011, General Electric filed a 57,000-page tax return.³

In 2012, the IRS paid $104 million, the largest amount ever to a single whistleblower, to Brad Birkenfeld in the UBS tax evasion case.⁴

In 2017, Florida man Ramon Blanchett received a tax refund of $980,000.⁵

What do your accomplishments add up to?

Do you have any tax-related triumphs that are worthy of an entry in the record books? The longest time spent on hold with the FTB or IRS in a single phone call? The most repeated requests for any one client to send you their documents in a tax season (their last tax season with you, presumably)? We don’t have any sway with Guiness Book of World Records, but send us an e-mail and your feat might show up in a future Tax Season Tribune.

You know that old phrase “Go with your gut?” It’s one that some employees at Sacramento Municipal Utility District (SMUD) apparently forgot when they received an e-mail from a vendor requesting a bank account change. (TransAmerican Power Poles, Inc. v. Sacramento Municipal Utility District (August 26, 2025) Cal.App.3d, Case No. C100384)

A SMUD employee had been legitimately communicating with its steel pole supplier vendor, TransAmerican Power Poles located in Texas, about invoices totaling $248,885. Then, the employee received an e-mail from what appeared to be the same TransAmerican employee… only instead of the customary @tappinc.com domain, the sender had used @tappincs.com (the extra s is for “sneaky”). The employee failed to notice the difference.

Another e-mail arrived from the fake address requesting a bank account change regarding payment for the invoices. This e-mail appeared to CC the actual TransAmerican controller at his legitimate e-mail address, although he never received it.

The SMUD employee was suspicious. Another employee called the situation “sketchy” and a third labelled it “shady.” They decided to call TransAmerican and check it out. They even called twice… at 6:54 PM and 6:55 PM Texas time, which was after hours at TransAmerican, and so no one picked up. The SMUD employees didn’t leave a voicemail, overrode their guts, and wired $248,885 to the scammer’s account.

When the real TransAmerican came looking for payment, SMUD essentially replied, “we already paid you” and refused to pay again, arguing the imposter was TransAmerican’s “ostensible agent” and that paying twice would be an unconstitutional “gift of public funds.”

The shocking conclusion

The court held that SMUD had failed to exercise “ordinary care,” which is a very technical legal term meaning “call back during business hours.” The lesson for tax professionals: when a vendor suddenly changes their banking details, trust your gut and verify through a known contact method.

The court ruled that SMUD was liable to pay TransAmerican the full $248,885 for the steel poles that were actually delivered, even though SMUD had already lost $248,885 to the scammer.

Tax pros powered by Celsius energy drinks during busy season should exercise some caution — they might accidentally get more of a buzz than they bargained for. 

In late July 2025, High Noon issued a voluntary recall after discovering that some of its vodka seltzers were accidentally labeled as Celsius Astro Vibe energy drinks. The packaging mix-up occurred when a supplier mistakenly shipped empty Celsius cans to High Noon’s production facility, where they were filled with 4.5% ABV vodka seltzer instead of caffeine-fueled energy drink. 

The mislabeled cans — featuring a silver lid instead of the standard black Celsius lid — were distributed to retailers in Florida, New York, Ohio, South Carolina, Virginia, and Wisconsin between July 21–23. While no illnesses have been reported, the FDA warned that consumption of these products could lead to unintentional alcohol ingestion. 

For tax professionals who depend on energy drinks to power through marathon filing sessions, this recall serves as a cautionary tale. Imagine reaching for what you think is your afternoon energy boost, only to discover you’ve been sipping vodka seltzer all day. Your work product might become decidedly more … creative.  

The affected lot codes can be found on the FDA website, but the key identifier is simple: If your Celsius has a silver lid, don’t drink it unless you’re planning to make estimated tax payments significantly less stressful (though significantly less accurate).  While this particular recall affects a small batch of products, it’s a good reminder that even in the midst of tax season chaos, it pays to double-check what you’re consuming. After all, the only thing that should be intoxicating about tax work is the thrill of finding that last missing W-2.

When the government shut down in October 2025, IRS attorney Isaac Stein was ready for the furlough — he immediately pivoted to being a full-time hot dog vendor.¹ It was a move as natural as the casings on a Vienna Beef hot dog, because Stein had dreamed of having his own hot dog cart since he was a child.

The pivot was easy because Stein had just opened a hot dog cart after years of consideration. In September 2025, Shysters Dogs (“The Only Honest Ripoff in D.C.”) hit the sidewalks but was only open on Fridays and weekends because, at the time, Stein was working at the IRS. Once furloughed, the cart was open full time with Stein slinging dogs in his usual IRS attire: a suit.

His menu includes what he refers to as “the correct hot dog”: mustard and sauerkraut on a steamed bun with a Hebrew National hot dog. Of course, being from Detroit, I have beef with this. The real “correct” hot dog is a Kowalski natural casing hot dog in a steamed bun with Detroit Coney Island sauce, mustard, and onions. Preferred sides are curly fries and a Greek salad with that pink dressing.

According to the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council (there’s a National Hot Dog and Sausage Council?), here are the many regional varieties that make up the billions of hot dogs consumed by Americans each year: www.hot-dog.org/
culture/regional-hot-dogs.

So, if you’re an IRS employee facing a government shutdown or a tax preparer who’s working their last tax season, a hot dog cart could be the next step. Because you can’t bacon-wrap a tax return.