Dubya returns - still much like The Shadow

The Cayman Islands are a rich man's offshore piggy bank nestled just south of Cuba. They are easily accessible by private jets that are met by limos at the airports.   They are  an escape by oppressed  folks who have so much money that   there's not much more they can do with it so they hide it from the tax collectors until something better comes along - which it won't.

For these miillion-billion-zillionaires, since it is not possible to get to heaven while they are still breathing, the Caymans are their  luxurious tax-free destination of choice. Smart money-guys like Mitt Romney would have it no other way.

The true Republican brand of the  party's moneyed achievers  was again disclosed a few days ago when reports filtered out of the Caymans that George W. Bush was on hand to be the keynote speaker at a global investment conferfence.  In the perfect fit of the Ritz-Carlton. On Grand Cayman Island.

But then  we lost the narrative of Dubya's sudden reappearance like Jacob Marley's ghost. Until then we had given up on seeing the former president again inasmuch as his party declared him to be a non-person in the current campaign.   We could be heard shouting, "George W. Bush LIVES!"

But no sooner  than we wanted to eavesdrop on his return, the entire trip was blacked out.  Reporters were banned from covering the speech and the participants who paid $4,000 to hear it were  told not to say a word about it. Conference spokesman Dan Kneipp said the restrictions were  imposed by Bush's staff.

As long as the topic is investment savvy, do you think that somebody might have asked Dubya about why he approved the trade of Sammy Sosa when he was a managing partner of the Texas Rangers?  Or how Texas oilmen rushed to his aid  to buy his cash-poor oil company?  "I'm all name and no money," he once said.  But now as his party is concerned, it's the other way around.







   

In the Caymans, a penny hidden is a penny saved

After reading about Mitt Romney's unreported tax-free millions that he has stashed in Swiss banks and the Cayman Islands, we were so inspired by his clever accounting that we decided to do a little investing, too.  We called the International Hide-and-Seek Bank in the Caymans to learn more about their appealing deposit plans.

When a polished voice came to the phone, I explained my mission:

"I would like to deposit some tax-free money in your bank."

"Yes, sir.  That's why we're  here. No one will ever know because we deal in the strictest confidence.  "

"Right. That's what I've been told."

"How much would you wish to deposit?"

"I would wish to begin with $24.63.

(Pause.)

"I'm sorry, I didn't get that.  Was that millions or billions?"

"No, sir.  $24.63. That's all I can afford."

"Surely, sir, you are kidding."

"I think not.  I grew up in a fiscally conservative Middle Eastern family, tight-fisted as hell,  and if there was one thing my father never kidded about, it was money."

'I see.  But what's the point of depositing so little with us when your tax savings  - let me figure this out - would be less than a penny?"

"You must understand,  my friend, that a penny hidden is a penny earned."

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't think we can hide any of your money so if you'll simply ---"

"OK, I can round it off to an even $25 and ---."

 Click.

Moral:  If you can't match Mitt Romney's hidden treasure, it's best not to flaunt  your own $24.63.