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Today's
Feature
Assessor Mails
Personal Property Forms.
News release
Jasper County
Assessor has mailed forms to property owners for
listing their personal property which is subject
to assessment for the 2008 assessment year.
By March 1, 2008,
every owner or holder of personal property must
report, on the form provided by the assessor, all
taxable personal property which was owned or held
by the person or business on January 1, 2008.
"Every year a
few property owners forget to return their
lists," Don Davis said, "so we make
every effort to remind people to return them on
time."
Those not
returning a completed list to the assessor by the
March first deadline are subject to a penalty.
"Penalties
range from $10 to $100 depending upon the value
of the property and the statutes provide the
assessor with almost no discretion to waive the
penalties," Davis said. According to the
assessor, until recently, few penalties were
applied and the lists were commonly filed late.
These statutes were toughened in 1994, and
compliance with the law increased dramatically.
The assessor
advises that the best way to remember to return
the list on time and avoid a penalty is to fill
it out, sign it and put it in the mail the same
day you receive it. It is also helpful for the
property owners to copy the completed and signed
form and keep a copy with their records. If a
question arises regarding filing, the copy will
indicate the form was completed.
Property owners or
lessees who have not received lists are not
excused from filing and should contact the
assessor for a blank form at Jasper County
Assessor’s Office, 302 S. Main St.,
Carthage, MO or at 417-358-0437 or 417-625-4355.
Council Meets
This Evening.
The Carthage City
Council will meet this evening at 7:30 p.m. in
the Council Chambers of City Hall. Items on the
agenda include the second reading of an ordinance
amending the budget to appropriate an additional
$27,250 to the Carthage Public Library for
increased operating expenses.
New Reporting
Requirements.
News release
In 2008, for the
first time, owners of manufactured home parks,
manufactured home storage facilities, marinas or
any hangars will be required to report to the
county assessor information regarding certain
personal property located at their facilities.
Failure to report the property could result in
the property being assessed against the facility
owner and the assessment of a penalty.
According to the
new statute, section 137.092, RSMo, the owner of
such facility must report to the county assessor
by January 30th of each year certain personal
property owned by others that is located at the
facility. The personal property that must be
reported is any house trailer, manufactured home,
boat, vessel, floating home, floating structure,
airplane, or aircraft. The list of personal
property must be accompanied by the name and
address of the owner of the personal property,
the county of residence of the owner, if known,
and a description of the personal property.
If the owner of
the facility fails to timely report or fails to
include all of the information, the assessor may
assess the property to the owner of the facility
and assess a penalty ranging from $10 to $100
based upon the value of the property not
reported.
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Mornin' Mail |
To Your Good Health
By Paul G. Donohue, M.D.
Cholesterol
Isn’t Good or Bad
DEAR DR. DONOHUE:
I would like to know about cholesterol. What part
of the body makes it? Does it make bad as well as
good cholesterol? What foods contain bad and good
cholesterol? -- B.A.
ANSWER:
Cholesterol is cholesterol; there is no good or
bad. Most cholesterol is made in the liver.
Cholesterol foods contribute only a minor
fraction to total blood cholesterol. Saturated
fat stimulates liver production of cholesterol.
Saturated fat is the fat that surrounds meat and
the fat that’s found in whole-milk dairy
products. Cholesterol has important body
functions. It’s a part of every cell’s
membrane.
Because
cholesterol doesn’t dissolve in water, it
has to be modified to be transported in the blood
from the liver to distant body sites. The
modification consists in hitching it to
lipoproteins - part fat, part protein molecules.
Lipoproteins can be though of as trucks.
LDL (low density
lipoprotein) takes cholesterol to arteries, where
it dumps it. LDL cholesterol infiltrates the
artery wall and eventually builds an obstruction
in the artery. This is "bad"
cholesterol. The lower the LDL cholesterol, the
better off arteries are.
HDL (high density
lipoprotein) transports cholesterol from artery
walls and takes it back to the liver, where it is
degraded. It’s "good" cholesterol.
The higher the HDL cholesterol, the better off
arteries are.
Dietary changes
can increase HDL cholesterol and lower LDL
cholesterol. Eat a diet that emphasizes fruits,
vegetables and whole grains. Minimize the intake
of saturated fats. Low-fat dairy products are
good. Avoid trans fats. Trans fats are listed on
food label. Lose weight, if need be. Exercise
daily.
OLD GORGON
GRAHAM
More Letters from
a Self-Made
Merchant
to His Son
by George Horace Lorimer
First Published 1903
From John Graham, head of the
house of Graham & Company, pork packers, in
Chicago, familiarly known on ‘Change as Old
Gorgon Graham, to his son, Pierrepont, at the
Union Stock Yards.
No. 10
From John Graham, at Mount
Clematis, Michigan, to his son, Pierrepont, at
the Union Stock Yards, Chicago. The young man has
done famously during the first year of his
married life, and the old man has decided to give
him a more important position.
X
Continued...
I remember one boy
who organized a secret society, called the
Mysterious League. It held meetings in our big
vault, which they called the donjon keep, and,
naturally, when one of them was going on, boys
were scarcer around the office than hen’s
teeth. The object of the league, as I shook it
out of the head leaguer by the ear, was to catch
the head bookkeeper, whom the boys didn’t
like, and whom they called the black caitiff,
alone in the vault some night while he was
putting away his books, slam the door, and turn
the combination on him. Tucked away in a corner
of the vault, they had a message for him, written
in red ink, on a sheep’s skull, telling him
to tremble, that he was in the hands of the
Mysterious League, and that he would be led at
midnight to the torture chamber. I learned
afterward that when the bookkeeper had reached in
his desk to get a pen, a few days before, he had
pulled out a cold, clammy, pickled pig’s
foot, on which was printed: "Beware! first
you will lose a leg!"
I simply mention
the Mysterious League in passing. Of course, boys
will be boys, but you mustn’t let them be
too cussed boyish during business hours. A slow
boy can waste a lot of the time of a
five-thousand-dollar man whose bell he’s
answering; and a careless boy can mislay a letter
or drop a paper that will ball up the work of the
most careful man in the office.
It’s really
harder to tell what you’re getting when you
hire a boy than when you hire a man. I found that
out for keeps a few years ago, when I took on the
Angel Child. He was the son of rich parents, who
weren’t quite rich enough to buy chips and
sit in the game of the no-limit millionaires. So
they went in for what they called the simple
life. I want to say right here that I’m a
great believer in the simple life, but some
people are so blamed simple about it that
they’re idiotic. The world is full of rich
people who talk about leading the simple life
when they mean the stingy life. They are the kind
that are always giving poorer people a chance to
chip in an even share with them toward defraying
the expenses of the charities and the
entertainments which they get up. They call it
"affording those in humbler walks an
opportunity to keep up their self-respect,"
but what they really mean is that it helps them
to keep down their own expenses.
The Angel
Child’s mother was one of these women who
talk to people that aren’t quite so rich as
she in the tone of one who’s commending a
worthy charity; but who hangs on the words of a
richer woman like a dog that hopes a piece of
meat is going to be thrown at it, and yet
isn’t quite sure that it won’t get a
kick instead. As a side-line, she made a
specialty of trying to uplift the masses, and her
husband furnished the raw material for the
uplifting, as he paid his men less and worked
‘em harder than any one else in Chicago.
Well, one day this
woman came into my office, bringing her only son
with her. He was a solemn little cuss, but I
didn’t get much chance to size him up,
because his ma started right in to explain how
he’d been raised--no whipping, no--but I cut
it short there, and asked her to get down to
brass tacks, as I was very busy trying to see
that 70,000,000 people were supplied with their
daily pork. So she explained that she wanted me
to give the Angel Child a job in my office during
his summer vacation, so that he could see how the
other half lived, and at the same time begin to
learn self-reliance.
I was just about
to refuse, when it occurred to me that if he had
never really had a first-class whipping it was a
pity not to put him in the way of getting one. So
I took him by the hand and led him to
headquarters for whippings, the bench in the
shipping department, where a pretty scrappy lot
of boys were employed to run errands, and told
the boss to take him on.
I wasn’t out
of hearing before one kid said, "I choose
him," and another, whom they called the
Breakfast-Food Baby, because he was so strong,
answered, "Naw; I seen him first."
I dismissed the
matter from my mind then, but a few days later,
when I was walking through the shipping
department, it occurred to me that I might as
well view the remains of the Angel Child, if they
hadn’t been removed to his late residence. I
found him sitting in the middle of the bench,
looking a little sad and lonesome, but all there.
The other boys seemed to be giving him plenty of
room, and the Breakfast-Food Baby, with both eyes
blacked, had edged along to the end of the bench.
I beckoned to the Angel Child to follow me to my
private office.
"What does
this mean, young man?" I asked, when he got
there. "Have you been fighting?"
"Yes,
sir," he answered, sort of brightening up.
"Which
one?"
"Michael and
Patrick the first day, sir."
"Did you lick
‘em?"
"I had rather
the better of it," he answered, as precise
as a slice of cold-boiled Boston.
"And the
second?"
"Why, the
rest of ‘em, sir."
"Including
the Breakfast-Food--er, James?"
He nodded.
"James is very strong, sir, but he lacks
science. He drew back as if he had a year to hit
me, and just as he got good and ready to strike,
I pasted him one in the snoot, and followed that
up with a left jab in the eye."
I hadn’t
counted on boxing lessons being on the bill of
fare of the simple life, and it raised my hopes
still further to see from that last sentence how
we had grafted a little Union Stock Yards on his
Back Bay Boston. In fact, my heart quite warmed
to the lad; but I looked at him pretty severely,
and only said:
"Mark you,
young man, we don’t allow any fighting
around here; and if you can’t get along
without quarrelling with the boys in the shipping
department, I’ll have to bring you into
these offices, where I can have an eye on your
conduct."
There were two or
three boys in the main office who were spoiling
for a thrashing, and I reckoned that the Angel
Child would attend to their cases; and he did. He
was cock of the walk in a week, and at the same
time one of the bulliest, daisiest, most
efficient, most respectful boys that ever worked
for me. He put a little polish on the other kids,
and they took a little of the extra shine off
him. He’s in Harvard now, but when he gets
out there’s a job waiting for him, if
he’ll take it.
That was a clear
case of catching an angel on the fly, or of
entertaining one unawares, as the boy would have
put it, and it taught me not to consider my
prejudices or his parents in hiring a boy, but to
focus my attention on the boy himself, when he
was the one who would have to run the errands.
The simple life was a pose and pretense with the
Angel Child’s parents, and so they were only
a new brand of snob; but the kid had been caught
young and had taken it all in earnest; and so he
was a new breed of boy, and a better one than
I’d ever hired before.
Your affectionate
father,
JOHN GRAHAM.
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