Whimsey and money laundering

In case HMRC and the serious crime wallahs read my last blog can I just say that I take money laundering, tax evasion and like very very seriously! It is not only a crime it is the machinery which powers illegal drugs and arms distribution, loan sharking, people trafficking, and prostitution. The sorts of things that do not make for a healthy and convivial society.

In the last century, when we were involved in starting and developing credit unions, we were addressed by a person from the Registrar of Friendly Societies on the subject of money laundering. Oh how we laughed! Then I pulled out an envelope, I had given up smoking by then, and on the back of it did a few, quick, calculations. Even in those days it would have been pretty easy to launder a million a year through the rudimentary credit union network and with the restrictive limits in place at the time.

Being a woolly minded liberal I am all in favour of HMRC going round, kicking down each door in turn and confiscating any boodle whether under the bed or not. The alleged owners would have to provide the usual audited accounts and receipts and a note countersigned by Nelson Mandela, the Dali Lama, and Desmond Tutu to certify that they were of good character, kind to children and small animals, active participators in civil society and gave freely to a variety of campaigning good causes (apply buddhistpizzagoodcauses.org/BancoBuddistPizza/Palermo) before assets could be returned.

However, a tale told against myself, I have been caught with my hands in the washing machine, as it were.

A holiday on Paxos started with our taking our first dander down to the Harbour Bar. Being near the harbour, herself was drawn to the edge to peer over. In an instant she was not there. This was not an assumptive intervention of a benign deity more a result of the edge of the harbour being wet and slippy. Panic, fear and other feelings passed through me as I moved to the edge where herself was just breaking surface. With the help of bystanders she was pulled bodily and safely from an early bath and I was much relieved. The only injury was to her pride. Everyone was kind and concerned and the Harbour Bar provided hot coffee and brandy for free. I was able to make the case that as a concerned spouse and weakling I needed to participate in this measure of revivification.

Thereafter, herself was a village icon. Those who spoke English enquired, daily, if she had been swimming and those who did not smiled sweetly and made swimming motions with their arms.
The link to money laudering came when wet clothes and the contents of pockets were processed after the adventure. I ended up washing Greek currency in the sink and hanging it out to dry on the washing line on the balcony of the apartment. Jesus, I thought, thank god the FSA can't see me now!