Venison for Charity

A college friend recently had an away message up about the Venison for Charity Tax Credit.  Now, I’m no hunter, but I still had hopes that this applied to me because I:

a) Currently have a freezer full of deer meat,
b) Don’t intend to eat it any time soon, and
c) Am set to inherit an antique venison chafing dish from my grandparents (as long as my cousins know what’s good for them, and keep their grubby paws off).

Some quick research taught me that I sadly don’t qualify for this credit.  Though it’s pretty much what it sounds like, to qualify for the Venison for Charity Tax credit, you need to be a licensed butcher or meat packer and need to have a contract with a nonprofit.  (Although I don’t think the IRS really thought through what a powerful contribution I could make to society by handing out deer meat to random passersby, while simultaneously keeping said meat warm in mid-century baroque style).

My hope is that this is just the beginning for the IRS as they attempt to re-integrate members of society whose favorite pursuits are met with some political or moral resistance by incentivizing custom-made charity.  I’m hoping that next year’s tax forms include a credit for Lite Brite Construction for Charity (and if you think lite brite construction isn’t at the cutting edge of moral or political controversy, just try telling someone of any political persuasion that you’re a twenty-six year old woman who enjoys using pegs to construct clowns, zoo animals and other cheerful, light-up-able scenes.  I guarantee you the response you get isn’t going to be delight).

To be fair, I do understand that in some ways, deer hunting and Lite Brite construction aren’t quite equivalent hobbies.  For one thing, Lite Brite construction surprisingly doesn’t have an edible yield - my six-year old self can confirm that being brightly colored, translucent and of a size to be swallowed, does not make something candy - but who’s to say it can’t prove just as useful to those in need?  After all, I have a freezer full of deer meat and a closet full of lite brite (well, full of one lite brite and assorted clothes), and even though I eat every day and only feel the need to bask in the warmth of an illuminated tableau on very special occasions (like Tuesdays), the edible denizen of my freezer is still much less likely to see the light of day.