Country music embraces a long tradition of songs about sadness and ruin, heartbreak and pain. It just makes sense, then, that country sometimes runs afoul of the tax system. Most famously, Willie Nelson found himself on the wrong side of a $16.7 million tax bill. And outlaw country icon David Allen Coe, who penned Take This Job and Shove It, drew three years probation and $980,000 in restitution for failing to report his income, which he insisted on taking in cash to hide from the IRS.
Joy Ford probably never expected she would become a part of that particular tradition. She got her start as a carnival dancer performing at state fairs. Her co-star Loretta Lynn inspired her to start singing, and she had several minor hits in the 1980s. She went on to operate the Bell Cove Club outside Nashville, where she showcased up-and-coming acts. But her eye for talent turned out to be far better than her eye for business.
Ford met with a producer to talk about a TV show, and met with a consultant who suggested converting the club into a seafood restaurant. But the show went nowhere and the consultant's advice went in one ear and out the other. She claimed losses of $210,298 for the years 2012-2014, and deducted them against income from trusts and a brokerage account. Business losses are deductible against outside income, of course, if you can show you're really trying to make money. But the IRS decided her business was just an expensive hobby, disallowed the losses, and case ended up in court.
Judge Foley took just two pages to find that Ford wasn't really trying to make a profit. "She had no expertise in club ownership, maintained inadequate records, disregarded expert business advice, nonchalantly accepted Bell Cove's perpetual losses, and made no attempt to reduce expenses, increase revenue, or improve Bell Cove's overall performance." Not much to sing about, there!
Not all country musicians who take on the IRS wind up on the sad side. Remember Conway Twitty? (Who could forget a name like that? It sure beat Harold Lloyd Jenkins, the one he was born with!) In 1968, he rounded up 75 friends and associates to invest in a side venture called Twitty Burgers. Apparently, his fans found his vocal licks tastier than his burgers, and by 1971, all but one of the restaurants were shuttered. Twitty worried that the failure would hurt his reputation, so he repaid his investors out of his music income. Naturally, he deducted those repayments, totaling $96,492.
The critics at the IRS disallowed Twitty's repayments because they were related to the burger business, not the music business. So Twitty took the IRS to court, and the Tax Court ruled in his favor. Judge Irwin found that repaying the investors was an "ordinary and necessary" expense for "furthering his business as a country music artist and protecting his business reputation for integrity." (We're not sure how Twitty would have translated those happy results into a country song!)
Are you looking for happier music where your taxes are concerned? You'll need to do a little planning, and probably a little homework. But we can help you with that effort, and we promise you'll whistle a happy tune if you do. So call us when you're ready to save, and remember, we're here for your bandmates, too!
When you think of "federal crime," you probably think of big-ticket offenses like mail fraud, identity theft, and tax evasion. But our criminal code is also full of, shall we say, lesser offenses. For example, according to the Crime a Day Twitter feed, "18 USC §1854 makes it a federal crime to cut, chip, or chop a government-owned tree to get turpentine out of it." 7 USC §8313 "makes it a federal crime to bring an imported camel's blanket into the United States without the permission of the port inspector." And 8 USC §1865 "makes it a federal crime to roller skate in Alaska's Sitka National Historical Park."
Our Internal Revenue Code similarly focuses most of its attention on core questions like brackets, rates, standard deductions, and personal credits. But the tax code's 70,000 pages include their fair share of lesser provisions, too. And the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act that just passed includes a couple that might sound like the tax equivalent of sneaking a smelly camel's blanket in under a port inspector's nose.
Here's one that just seems petty and mean. Under the old law, you could exclude a whopping $20 per month of income for expenses related to riding your bike to work, so long as you weren't getting other pretax transit benefits. That's not a whole lot of benefit for bike commuters. Granted, most bikes aren't that expensive — but cyclists face far bigger dangers than taxes, in the form of road-hogging trucks and SUVs who can run them over without even seeing them.
Section 11047 of the Act lets the air out of the "qualified bicycle commuting reimbursement," for tax years beginning after December 31, 2017 and before January 1, 2026. And how much will derailing this break save the Treasury? A million dollars. A whole million dollars a year in new revenue. That's a rounding error, at best, for a bill with trillions of dollars of impact.
Of course, the bill keeps the tax subsidies for car commuters that cost the Treasury $8.6 billion per year — and contribute to the six tons of carbon the average vehicle pumps into the atmosphere every year as well!
Here's another minuscule transportation-related change that wasn't buried quite so deep in the act's fine print, and so attracted a bit more attention. Under the old law, Code Section 4261 imposed a 7.5% ticket tax on payments to aircraft service management companies that help private plane owners with chores like scheduling, flight planning, and weather forecasting. The purpose of the tax was to replace revenue the Treasury loses by not charging private aviation passengers a ticket tax.
Section 13822 of the Act eliminates those taxes, under the rationale that aircraft management services shouldn't pay the ticket tax because they don't sell tickets. Plenty of observers cried foul at the fat cat jet owners getting another tax break. But the provision's primary sponsor was Democratic Senator Sherrod Brown of Ohio, who is nobody's idea of a pawn of the rich. And the congressional Joint Committee on Taxation estimates that grounding the tax will cost the Treasury less than $500,000 per year.
Paying the least amount of tax obviously means starting with bigger questions like choosing the right entity for your business. But this week's story shows that, whether your ride to work is a Schwinn or a Cessna, there's always an opportunity for planning. So call us when you're ready to save. We don't care how you get to our office . . . we just want to see you do it!
In 2016, SyFy debuted a new show called Incorporated about a dystopian future where corporations, not governments, rule the world. If that nightmare ever comes true, we all know which real-world corporation will rule them all. It's Apple, of course, which just took the shrink-wrap off their $5 billion ring-shaped headquarters in Cupertino, CA and is on the verge of becoming the world's first trillion-dollar company.
Odds are good that you've got an iDevice of some sort in your home, office, or pocket. Apple's product design geniuses use crack-like design and technology that keeps users hooked like heroin addicts, to make Apple the most valuable corporation in the world. But what you may not know is how Apple's financial geniuses use proactive tax planning to make their company even more valuable. And now, the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act has inspired them to act again.
Apple has scattered their manufacturing operations throughout the world to take advantage of lower costs overseas. (You think your 10-year-old's science fair project is special? Big deal — 10-year-olds in China are making iPhones!) This has prompted various entertaining debates over the ethics and politics of offshoring, which we won't presume to touch here.
Apple hasn't just off-shored manufacturing operations to cut manufacturing costs. They've also off-shored their profits, to take advantage of tax rates that are lower than our own traditional 35%. This involves strategies with names like the "Double Irish with a Dutch Sandwich" strategy, which sounds like something you'd see figure skaters attempting at the upcoming Winter Olympics. Apple's Irish subsidiary, Apple Operations International, earned $30 billion from 2009-2012, and didn't even file tax returns for those years.
Hoarding cash before the IRS gets to grab 35% of it doesn't mean stuffing it under some sort of supersized Irish mattress. The parent company borrows their own subsidiary's cash, deducts 35% of the interest they pay for it here in the U.S., and pays tax on that interest at just 12.5% in Ireland, shifting even more money out of IRS reach.
Now the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act has cut the rate on Apple's iProfits to just 21%. It even includes a bonus "get out out of jail free" card for companies with cash overseas, letting them pay a one-time 15.5% rate to load those bales of cash on a plane and bring them home. So Apple is repatriating $252 billion, and writing the IRS a $38 billion check — enough to finance the entire government of Wisconsin for a year, with enough left over to pay for Jacksonville or St. Louis, too. But that's still $43 billion less than paying the 35% on the full amount.
And what will Apple do with their iSavings? Throw a party, of course! They've announced plans to hire 20,000 new employees, build another major domestic campus, and boost R&D to diversify away from the iPhone. They'll also use billions more for dividends (which put cash in shareholders' hands) and share buybacks (which also rewards them by pushing prices up).
We realize you don't have $252 billion to plan for. But that doesn't mean you can't profit from planning, too. So give us a call when you're ready to take full advantage of the new tax law and see how much iCash we can put in your pocket!
In 2012, the singer Whitney Houston died suddenly, drowning in a hotel bathroom after years of battling drug addiction. Yet the world will always treasure her musical legacy. The Guinness Book of World Records reports that she was the most awarded female artist of all time, with two Emmys, six Grammys, 30 Billboard Music Awards, and 22 American Music Awards, among 400+ awards. Rolling Stone listed her debut album as one of the 500 greatest albums of all time. And VH1 put her number three on their "greatest women of the video age" list, behind Madonna and Janet Jackson.
Houston also left a considerable financial legacy, estimated at $20 million. She saved all her estate in trust for her only child, Bobbi Kristina Brown, with instructions to release 10% when Brown reached age 21, another sixth at age 25, and the remainder at age 30. (Brown died in 2015 from her own drug overdose, leaving the ultimate fate of the estate in the hands of lawyers, who are sure to bill lots of hours.)
But Houston's estate includes far more than cash and securities. It also includes her music catalog, digital performance royalties, movie and television residuals, and "publicity rights," meaning her right to control the commercial use of her name, image, and likeness. Now, it's easy to value assets like cash or stocks. But valuing the music catalog involves estimating the amount of future royalties, and valuing publicity rights is even more subjective.
Naturally, the IRS gets so emotional about those sorts of intangible legacies, especially with estate tax rates in 2012 running at 40% on amounts over $5,120,000. In fact, estate tax returns are audited more than any other type, with the IRS examining over 30% of estates reporting $10 million or more in assets. (Does that mean estate taxes are the tax man's "Greatest Love of All"?) These disputes often come down to a battle of valuations, which makes a good appraiser all the man you need.
The IRS determined that Houston's representatives underestimated the value of her intangible assets by $22.6 million. They imposed a $7.92 million deficiency and $3.17 million in penalties. The parties were scheduled to go to trial next month. However, on December 26, 2017, the estate filed documents agreeing to settle for $2,275,366. ("Didn't We Almost Have It All," we can imagine the folks at the IRS humming as they deposit the estate's check.)
This isn't the first time the IRS has battled over pop star publicity rights. Executors for Michael Jackson's estate valued his at just $2,105, which essentially argues that the King of Pop's bizarre controversies and misadventures had rendered his image essentially worthless. Attorneys at the IRS told them to beat it, valuing those rights at $434 million. That case is still working its way through court — last month, a Tax Court judge denied the IRS's bid to provide additional evidence to support seeking penalties up to 40% of the allegedly understated tax.
The Tax Cuts and Jobs Act of 2017 doubles the estate tax "unified credit" to $11.2 million per person for 2018. This should cut the number of estates filing returns to less than 4,000 per year. But careful planning is still in order to make sure your legacy goes where you want it going. So call us when you're ready to plan, and let's make beautiful (financial) music together!
NFL playoffs have begun, and Wild Card Week featured some real competition. On Saturday, the red-state Tennessee Titans barbecued the red-state Kansas City Chiefs, 22-21, and the red-state Atlanta Falcons defeated the blue-state Los Angeles Rams, 26-13. On Sunday, the purple-state Jacksonville Jaguars pounced on the blue-state Buffalo Bills, 10-7, and the red-state New Orleans Saints marched past the purple-state Carolina Panthers, 31-26.
Now, if you're like most people, you're wondering why we're polluting your NFL news with red state and blue state political references. You wouldn't think politics matter on the gridiron! Unfortunately they do, now even more than before, thanks to the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act of 2017. Huh?
Here's the deal. Blue states, as a group, tend to have higher income and property taxes than red states. (That's not always true — Washington, for example, has no state income tax at all — but it's a fair rule of thumb.) Those higher taxes make blue states slightly less attractive for athletes who play home games subject to income tax there. If you're a first-round draft pick wide receiver, would you rather pay a 13.3% top tax rate to catch passes in Los Angeles, or a 0% state tax rate to catch them in Jacksonville?
Does this really matter? Surprisingly, yes. Erik Hembre, Assistant Professor of Economics at the University of Illinois at Chicago, took win-loss records from the last 40 years of professional sports, then overlaid them with state marginal tax rates. He found that "state income tax rates significantly impact team performance." In the NBA, where the effect is greatest, moving a team from high-tax Minnesota to tax-free Florida should yield 4.7 more wins per year. In baseball, where there's no salary cap and the tax effect is lowest, the same move would still add 1.6 Ws per year.
The new tax law actually magnifies this effect. Under the old rules, a hypothetical utility infielder, grossly overpaid to bat .260 for the Yankees, could at least deduct the 13% he pays in state and local income tax from his federal return. That effectively reduces the tax by about 40%. But the new law caps the deduction for state and local income, sales, and property taxes at just $10,000, no matter how much an athlete actually pays. That means sports fans in high-tax New York will have even more to grouse about!
The new rules will be expensive for lots of blue-state taxpayers, not just athletes. The Government Finance officers Association found that in 2015, over one-third of taxpayers in California, New Jersey, and New York claimed the deduction, with an average amount over $17,000.
Blue state officials aren't taking the change lying down. Legislators in California and New Jersey are considering encouraging taxpayers to make gifts to the states in exchange for credits against their tax. This would let them sidestep the new law by deducting those amounts as charitable contributions. New York Governor Andrew Cuomo has threatened to challenge the constitutionality of the law and switch from income to payroll taxes. Only time will tell if those strategies are practical and pass muster with the IRS.
Until then, there's a time-tested strategy that works better than any legislative Hail Mary. That strategy is planning. If you don't have a tax plan yet, 2018 really is the time to get one. And if you do, now may be the time to update it. So call us for the coaching you need to make the most of this new law!
They say that "what goes up must come down." But that's not true when it comes to college costs. U.S. News reports the average private college tuition stood at $16,233 back in 1997-98 — roughly $24,973 in 2017 dollars. But the same tuition today costs $41,727. And that's before pricing in luxuries like, you know, meals, and a place to sleep. In-state college costs are rising even faster as legislatures cut budgets for higher education. That means colleges are increasingly turning to alternate funding sources, including their endowments.
In academia, though, as in so many other parts of our "winner take all" society, there's the 1%, and there's everyone else. America's richest 800 colleges and universities hold over $500 billion in endowments, which sounds like there should be plenty to help supplement tuition and fees. But the top 1% of schools hold over $10 billion each, and 11% of schools hog 74% of those assets. That leaves the Faber Colleges of the world essentially fighting over scraps. ("Knowledge is good.")
Now, the Phi Beta Kappas who write our tax code have turned their green eyeshades towards those mammoth pools of tax-free wealth. Both the House and Senate tax bills working through Congress would impose a 1.4% excise tax on net investment income of private colleges holding more than $250,000 per student. That group includes about 70 schools, including obvious targets like Harvard, Yale, and Princeton. At the same time, the proposal spares public school systems with big endowments like the Universities of Texas ($25.4 billion), Michigan ($9.7 billion), and California ($7.4 billion).
It's true that if any schools have "too much money" (LOL), it's the top-shelf Ivies. Harvard's endowment started in 1638 with £779 and 400 books. Over the next 379 years, it's grown to over $37 billion (and 16 million books), leading critics to call it a hedge fund with a university attached. In 2015 that fund grew by just 5.8%, compared to rival Yale's 11.5%. But Harvard Management Company paid its chief executive a whopping $14.9 million, with his deputy taking home $11.6 million. (And you thought college football coaches were overpaid!)
Academic endowments have grown so large that they're starting to use some of the same tax strategies as the richest individuals. The New York Times recently exposed how colleges use offshore entities to boost earnings, including "blocker corporations" that let them avoid tax on debt-financed "unrelated business taxable income." (Trust us, those UBTI rules are even more boring and technical than they sound.)
But naturally, academics are irate at the proposal, rolling up their leather-patched tweed sleeves and prepping for a (genteel) fight. "Endowments support substantial student aid and student service programs, and provide funding for instruction, research, and for building and maintaining classrooms, labs, libraries, and other facilities," said the Association of American Universities. At Princeton (the #1 target with $2.5 million per student), undergraduates from families earning under $56,000 pay no tuition, room, or board, while those from families earning under $160,000 pay no tuition.
Here's the good news. You don't have to be an Ivy League university — or even have an Ivy League education — to save big on your tax bill. You just need a proactive plan. So call us when you're ready for some real-world lessons on how to pay less!
April 15 hasn't always been the national exercise in self-flagellation that it is today. Up until the 1940s, you could just waltz into your local IRS office and they would do your taxes for you. But those days have long since passed. You're still welcome to do it yourself, if you need more stress in your life. But how will you know if you're paying too much? Even software like TurboTax can't guarantee you'll get it right. If you don't know how to use it, the program just helps you make the same expensive mistakes faster than when you made them with paper and pencils.
If you're like most Americans, you just throw up your hands and call a pro. That begs a new question: who to call? Certified Public Accountants and Enrolled Agents have traditionally dominated the field. But up until 2010, anyone with a pencil could call himself a tax preparer. (Most of them use computers now — but, surprisingly, not all. Hey, some people still carry flip phones, too.) That seems like an obvious vacuum in today's regulatory environment, considering that in most places, you need a license just to catch a fish. And we all know bureaucracy abhors a vacuum.
In 2009, the IRS decided to do something. After a series of public forums and comments, they launched the Registered Tax Return Preparer (RTRP) program. The new rules required preparers to: 1) sign up for a Preparer Tax Identification Number, 2) pass a 2.5 hour test, and 3) complete 15 hours of continuing education per year. Naturally, the IRS charged a fee for the program, which started at $64.25 per year. And they based their authority to do it all on an obscure 1884 law regulating representatives of civil war soldiers looking for compensation for dead horses.
Everyone was happy with the RTRP, except the people subject to the new rules (and maybe those long-dead horses). Preparers felt like they were being forced to take a test to prove they could do something they had done, in some cases, for decades. So three of them sued to shut down the program. And they won — the court agreed that the 1884 law didn't give the IRS authority to regulate an industry that didn't even exist when it was passed. (Oops.)
The IRS suspended the RTRP program. But they kept charging the PTIN fees, even though the program the fees were supposed to finance had ended. So, one year later, a different group of preparers filed another suit to recover those fees.
Once again, the court ruled in their favor. This June, the court decided that PTINs aren't a "service or thing of value" justifying a fee. The IRS can't charge fees for PTINs, "because this would be equivalent to imposing a regulatory licensing scheme and the IRS does not have such regulatory authority." (Don't hold your breath waiting for Congress to give it to them.) And yes, the IRS has to give back all the PTIN fees they've collected. That was $175 million when the plaintiffs filed their complaint; but it could be as high as $300 million now.
Chalk one up for the good guys, right? Well, sure. But here's the real lesson: most tax preparers, credentialed or not, focus on putting the "right" numbers in the "right" boxes on the "right" forms. They do a great job of telling you how much you owe — but nothing about how to pay less. And that has everything to do with attitude, not credentials. So call us when you're ready to save — and remember, we're here for your family, friends, and colleagues, too!
Every year, PNC Bank publishes their "Christmas Price Index" to track the cost of the Twelve Days of Christmas. For 2017, it's a hefty $157,558. (And you thought your holiday spending was out of control!) The index may not be completely accurate — for example, the ten lords-a-leaping are valued using the cost of male ballet dancers, rather than actual lords, and the eight maids-a-milking don't include eight actual cows. But still, it got us wondering . . . what sort of taxes are we looking at on the whole affair?
Your kids and grandkids have finally finished eating their Halloween candy, which means that the real holidays are right around the corner. But before you sit down to open presents, December 16th marked the 244th anniversary of an important holiday in tax history — a pop-up costume ball in Boston Harbor called the Boston Tea Party.
From 1698 through 1767, Britain's Parliament passed a series of laws giving the East India Company a monopoly on the British tea trade, forcing the colonies to buy their tea from British wholesalers, and slapping hefty taxes on it all. But Dutch traders, who paid no tax, could sell their tea for less, costing the East India Company a fortune. (If you remember Miami Vice in the 1980s, try picturing a colonial-era Crockett and Tubbs, dressed in fly white buckskins, chasing Dutch bootleggers in a sleek Italian brigantine.)
In 1767, Parliament passed the Indemnity Act to lower the tax on tea to compete with the Dutch. (Earl Gray was just three years old, so he didn't vote.) But they needed a "payfor" to make up the lost revenue, so they brewed up the Townshend Acts taxing colonial imports, including tea. (Hmmmm . . . sounds like the sort of horse-trading today's Congress is up to right now with the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act.) Five years later, the Indemnity Act expired, and everyone was back where they started. (Sort of like what happened in 2013 when the Bush tax cuts expired . . . . )
The Tea Act of 1773 brought things to a head. The new law actually lowered the price of tea to undercut the smugglers. But the colonists still hated Parliament taxing them without their consent. They hated how England used those taxes to pay colonial governors and judges, thus insulating them from local influence. And that's where things stood in November, 1773, as the tea ship Dartmouth sailed into a Boston Harbor steeped in resentment and controversy.
British law required the shipper to unload and pay the tax within 20 days. But colonists, who gathered by the thousands, were determined to prevent that. On the night of December 16, the final deadline, a group of 30 to 130 of them boarded the Dartmouth and two more ships. A few of them sported elaborate Mohawk warrior costumes to hide their faces and show their loyalty to American identity. They spent three hours dumping 342 chests of tea into the water. The next day, future President John Adams wrote in his diary:
"There is a Dignity, a Majesty, a Sublimity, in this last Effort of the Patriots, that I greatly admire . . . . This Destruction of the Tea is so bold, so daring, so firm, intrepid and inflexible, and it must have so important Consequences, and so lasting, that I cant but consider it as an Epocha in History."
The Tea Party set all sorts of consequences in motion besides the obvious "American Revolution" thing. (Does that remind you of Taylor Swift's song, "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together"?) If you're a coffee drinker, for example, you should know that coffee first became popular here as an alternative to "unpatriotic" tea. (Sort of like renaming french fries "freedom fries" during the Second Iraq War . . . . )
244 years later, we still resent paying taxes we don't have to pay. The good news is, you don't have to don a Mohawk headdress and row out into the middle of the harbor for three hours of creative vandalism to pay less. You just need a plan. So call us when you're ready to save, and let us give you something to celebrate!
Two hundred and forty one years ago, we declared our independence from Mother England — over taxes, of course. But here on our side of the pond, we've never completely lost our affection for all things British. We applauded as the Queen celebrated her 70th wedding anniversary. Netflix fans who just finished binge-watching Stranger Things are eagerly awaiting Season Two of The Crown. And now we've learned that Prince Harry and his longtime girlfriend, actress Meghan Markle, are getting married in May.
Now, Harry may be just fifth in line for the throne, and about to be bumped down to sixth when Princess Kate gives birth to her third child next spring. But a royal wedding is still a Very Big Deal. There's going to be lots of work to keep the couple knackered out for months to come. That includes a guest list, a gown, and flowers. And of course there will tax questions, too.
Here's the issue: Markle isn't a Brit. She's a Yank. Buckingham Palace has already announced that Markle will become a British citizen, which involves passing a test with questions like "What did the Statute of Rhuddlan in 1284 lay the basis for?" and, "Who or what is Vindolanda"? But that transition will certainly complicate her finances, and possibly the rest of the royal family's, whether she says cheerio to her American citizenship or not.
Giving up her U.S. passport would be a simple but possibly pricey proposition. There's no magic to it: you make an appointment at the nearest embassy, sign some forms, and take an Oath of Renunciation. There's a $2,350 fee to process the paperwork, but that's low enough that she could probably add it to her wedding registry and count on a generous Member of Parliament, or maybe a lesser Marchioness, pick it up for her.
The real problem with expatriating is the bloody exit tax. If your net worth is over $2 million, or your average annual income for the five years before you leave tops $162,000, you'll owe tax on any appreciated assets you own, calculated as if you had sold them on the day you leave. That could make it frightfully expensive to move into a palace!
Things get more complicated if Markle keeps her U.S. citizenship. She'll still owe U.S. tax on her worldwide income. And she can't hide foreign holdings from the IRS. If she keeps more than $300,000 in assets abroad, she'll have to file Form 8938 reporting them. (And, really, what's the point of being "Her Royal Highness Princess Henry of Wales" if she's not going to have more than $300,000 in assets?)
If Her Royal Yankee Highness hold anything jointly with Harry, those U.S. filings could reveal assets the Crown prefers keeping confidential. We know that Harry inherited half of his mother, Princess Diana's £21.5 million estate (roughly $28.5 million), and he shares a £3.5 million allowance with his brother. But the royals work hard to keep the bulk of their finances private. The recent "Paradise Papers" leak revealed that Harry's grandmum the Queen benefits from investments the Duchy of Lancaster holds in the Cayman Islands and Bermuda.
You probably thought that marrying a royal would solve your financial problems, not create new ones. But life is full of surprises, even for princesses. So let us propose a jolly good solution: a plan for paying the legal minimum, no matter who you marry! Call us when you're ready to save, and take a few quid to treat the queen to a cuppa!