Tim wrote:

I don't know what I would do. I like to think I would simply not answer the door at all once I saw that two agents were standing on my doorstep.

There is an unpublished story about Robert Heinlein that was told to me by the last person to interview him before his death. At the time, Robert and Ginny lived in the Santa Cruz mountains, not that far from Tim (hmm, maybe it's something in the water). Their house was circular and their property was surrounded by a high chain-link fence with a razor wire on the top (if memory serves). Anyway, one day someone came to the gait and sounded the buzzer. Robert asked them through the intercom who they were and what they wanted. They said they were from the IRS. When Robert asked them if they had an appointment, there was a long silence followed by the statement, "No, but we've driven all the way from San Jose to talk to you about your account." Mr. Heinlein turned off the intercom and buzzer and went back to his business. That was the last he heard from the IRS. S a n d y