ROANOKE TIMES 
                      Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times

DATE: Tuesday, February 18, 1997             TAG: 9702180057
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 1    EDITION: METRO 
COLUMN: BETH MACY
SOURCE: BETH MACY


THE IRS HAS A HUMAN FACE, AND IT'S SMILING AT YOU

``It was as true ... as turnips is. It was as true ... as taxes is. And nothing's truer than them.''

- from ``David Copperfield,'' by Charles Dickens

It has the feel of a small-town auction, the kind where everything, from old Strawberry Shortcake dolls to fresh heads of cabbage, gets sold.

Numbers are shouted out; the talk, at times, turns personal.

It's a truly odd combination of bureaucracy and intimacy - not exactly what you'd expect from the front desk of Roanoke's Internal Revenue Service office.

At 9:30 a.m., an hour after opening, Mike Spears is already up to customer No.33. Spears, the coordinator of taxpayer assistance for the Roanoke IRS office, mans the front counter like an auctioneer working his crowd.

He answers one question with, ``That's all ya need, yep, thanks.''

Answers another by making the OK sign with his fingers.

Nods cheerfully to another.

And through it all manages to hum a tune.

April 15 may get all the press, but Mike Spears - and a whole lot of us who live paycheck-to-paycheck - know differently. ``The tax season,'' as accountant-types like to call it, isn't in two months at all.

For those of us who count on refunds to pay bills, buy Nikes for our kids or take a spring-break vacation, 'tis the season. Right now.

Debra Moorman doesn't have a gripe with the IRS. She's resigned to the idea of paying her fair share - death and taxes, and all that. In fact, she has a lot more respect for the IRS than she does the child-support enforcement office, where she regularly goes to battle on behalf of her 4-year-old daughter, with limited results.

Moorman has been coming to Mike Spears' counter for tax-filing help ever since she started working. A kitchen worker at Lewis-Gale Medical Center, she counts on her annual refund ``to pay bills, mostly'' - although this spring she has something better in mind: a trip to Maryland to visit relatives.

Spears, Missouri native, says the most common use of the tax refund - generally in the $1,000 range among the moderate-income, February-filing crowd - is to make a down-payment on a car.

One might assume that Spears, 50, dreads this time of year: the endless questions, the gripes and complaints, the no-vacations rule it imposes on the entire office. And don't even think about calling in sick.

Wrong assumption.

Somewhere in the fine print of the gazillion-page IRS tax code that Spears has committed to memory must be a clause that states: I love my job! Ask me anything related to form 1069-Z-12, and I will rejoice in providing you cheerful, detailed, up-to-date information!

Among the questions Spears has fielded in his 10 years of IRS work:

Can I deduct the expense of my dachshund's $2,000 vet bill? (The man had taken the dog to a nursing home to cheer up residents. The dog fell off the lap of an elderly woman and broke its back.)

Spears' answer: An injured wiener dog does not a charitable contribution make.

Do I have to pay the interest on taxes I owed but didn't pay because I was in jail?

Spears, being very careful to answer that question in his nicest voice: Yes.

And my own question: Can I deduct the new home computer I use for work?

``If it's required as a condition of doing your job, if you use it only for work. ... Probably you can, but see publication 529 just to be sure.''

One man comes in the office every year to return - yes, RETURN, that's not a typo - his refund. ``We try to give him the money, but he says no, just keep it and put it on next year's return,'' Spears says.

``Apparently, he's just trying to save the money. He's got some personal reason for doing it that way, and it's not my business.''

That helpful, yet unobtrusive, manner is what endears taxpayers to the taxman. Spears, who transferred from the Richmond IRS office two years ago, has been accosted with IRS questions while walking down the street on his lunch break.

Last year, one man was so appreciative of Spears' help, he brought him a watermelon as a gesture of thanks. Ever the i-dotter, Spears put the watermelon in the refrigerator until he could clear the gift with management, making sure it wasn't a conflict of interest.

The tax code allowed that the gift was small enough. Spears ate the watermelon.

Asked what he does to gear up for the February frenzy, Spears proves again why he is so relentlessly unflappable. A long-distance runner in his spare time, he says: ``I make sure I exercise and rest, get plenty of sleep. And I think happy thoughts.''

Spears and his team of assistants will answer, for free, even the most irritating tax questions at the Roanoke Taxpayer Assistance office, sixth floor of the Poff Building, from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. weekdays. By phone, the IRS takes questions at (800)829-1040.


LENGTH: Medium:  100 lines
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO:  CINDY PINKSTON/Staff. Mike Spears gives his approval 

after checking over William N. Evans' tax returns at the IRS office

in downtown Roanoke. color.

by CNB