Entry for December 14, 2006

It's rare that you get a laugh when writing a book about family law.
However, I was wading my way through Sweeney v Sweeney last night. It's an exceptionally boring case about capital gains tax. In fact - and excuse me while I bore you a bit - it's not even about capital gains tax; it's about notional capital gains tax. God knows what that is. Presumably it's some platonic ideal of capital gains tax. It's the perfect system that exists only in the ether; a system that chancellors throughout the ages have dreamt about but can never quite grasp.
Anyway I was idly leafing through the Sweeney opinion last night. The couple had pots of money but a lot of it was locked up in the husband's business and one of the issues that cropped up was whether he should be allowed to keep some ready cash, or whether he should just keep the businesses.
In a lovely piece of reasoning the Court of Session gravely considered this question, and after much deliberation decided Mr Sweeney should be able to keep £100,000 in cash to "deal with the contingencies of life requiring ready funds."
Oh really?
And what contingencies would those be m'lord? An emergency trip to the Seychelles? Essential repairs to the Lear jet? Personally I tend to need ready cash to pay the window cleaner, or to buy a walnut whip when I get my 4.30 pm blood sugar dip. Usually a tenner sees me through most of the little problems that life throws at me.
The other annoying thing about Swweeney v Sweeney is that every time I see the name (which is a lot just now) I can't help but think about the incredibly irritating theme tune from the 70s cop show.
The Sweeney. The Sweeeeney. Doo doo do do do do do do doooo. The Sweeney.
I also think about Mr and Mrs Sweeney screeching up to the Court of Session in their Ford Capris wearing matching his'n'her sheepskin car coats.
It's very juvenile of me.