Is this your first time to a psychiatrist, Mr. O'Neill?

Yes.

What brings you here?

I think I'm going nuts, Doc. Everything I see, I relate to Pittsburgh's financial crisis. I went to a play the other night and was terrified it wouldn't end until Act 47.

Well, you were right to come here, Mr. O'Neill, because that is nuts. Do you remember when this started?

It was about five years ago. I began rooting hard for the Penguins to make the playoffs and win the Stanley Cup, and I don't even like hockey. But I figured the city would clean up on parking and amusement taxes.

Well, that seems harmless enough.

Maybe, Doc, but it has gotten worse since. This past week, I was drawn to this story about the feds arresting Terrance "Big Head'' Cole, an alleged cocaine dealer. I was drawn to it because I once had the same nickname.

Good thing you came to a headshrinker, Big Head.

I didn't come here to be insulted by my own literary device.

Sorry. But what does this Big Head have to do with your obsession with the budget?

Well, I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that the feds hope to confiscate 17 of this guy's properties, most of them in the city. I figured that would hurt the city because, whatever else this man might have been, he isn't a tax deadbeat.

You're kidding.

Seriously, I looked him up on the county Web site. Cole is pretty much square at the tax office. Of the 14 properties listed under his name on the Web site, he has paid through 2003 on all of them, and is late with his 2004 taxes on only four.

Excuse me, Mr. O'Neill, but didn't I read that your real estate magnate and model taxpayer is accused of distributing two tons of cocaine?

Yeah, just imagine if that were road salt. The city could sure use that this winter.

Forget that! Big Head is supposed to have laundered $40 million. He is accused of being a violent drug dealer with a history of gunplay and intimidation.

Yeah, and I only wish I had gotten the assessment break he got on his Gertrude Street properties. You see my problem, Doc? I wound up calling the U.S. attorney's office and talking real estate.

What did you find out?

It turns out Uncle Sam doesn't seize any property until there's a conviction. Forfeited real estate is generally sold within a matter of months, at which time any unpaid taxes are paid. Meantime, taxes are the owner's responsibility.

So you're thinking that a man who could spend the rest of his life in prison, if convicted, might not have taxes atop his to-do list?

I fear this may be so.

How much are we talking about?

His 13 properties within the city have a collective market value of about $525,000.

That doesn't sound like much.

Hey, he's a Hazelwood real estate magnate. Second Avenue isn't Fox Chapel Road. But I calculate that the city alone could be out more than $5,600 in property taxes until ...

You know what I think, Mr. O'Neill?

The city needs a broader tax base than hospitals, universities and alleged money launderers?

No. I think I need to take your calculator away. You have to forget about millage rates. Forget about oversight boards and who isn't paying how much to whom. Get outside and enjoy the warm weather. Take a hike. Ride a bike. Canoe a river. Go to a ballgame. Swim.

That sounds pretty good, Doc. I'm told 16 of the city's 31 pools will open this year. How much do I owe you?

One hundred fifty dollars.

That's 15 times the annual occupation tax!

Not for long.

First Published: June 13, 2004, 4:00 a.m.