We’ve
been in the watchmaking business since 1951, when the first Hacko
opened a small repair shop in a central European country right on the
border of the Iron Curtain. Literally three years after World War II
ended. Running a small business, and being a self-employed was kind of a
novelty in a country where the State took care of employment. There
were three kind of citizens: farmers, factory workers, and
intelligencia. In that system, we were a misfit from day one.
Yet things ran relatively smoothly: we fixed watches, providing a valuable service to both state and citizen.
>From a taxation stand-point, small businesses were assessed by a
Government official in a very rudimentary way: pauschal, or flat rate.
Meaning, once a year an assessor would walk into our family shop, have a
good look at the number of watchmakers (two, plus an apprentice) and
stock on hand (none, just spare parts). He would also take into account
the shop’s location and passing traffic, and based on that, we would
come up with a figure which represented an amount of tax to be paid that
year.
The negative side of flat rate taxation was obvious: inherent unfairness
and corruption, but there was a positive side too: no invoicing, or
billing, no book keeping, and no accounting of any kind, meaning zero
administration. We simply focused on fixing watches. We only started
retailing watches in the late 1970s when non-government businesses were
allowed to buy and sell watches.
I saw my first proper accountant upon arrival in Australia. Quite
frankly, it took me a few years to figure out why I should even have one
when the business was really struggling to break even. My very first
accountant was an Irish gentleman, Mr. McCarty from Parramatta, who was
equally puzzled with my desire to operate a small business – lacking
working capital, having no local experience, and barely able to speak
English. Ten years later, after moving to the city, the business was
ready for a new accountant: a serious professional with an office in
York street. I have to say that we got what we paid for: a good
relationship, proper business structure, finely tuned performance. You
buy Rolex, you wear Rolex kind of deal.
Unfortunately we had no choice but to part at the very outset of Covid
because Nikolaki decided to close the city office and move interstate.
It was then when I met my current accountant. Sam is a legend. He is the
kind of guy who can answer any question, on the spot, in a second.
Efficient, prompt, friendly; a mature gentleman who simply loves what he
does. For Sam, nothing is difficult. I trust him blindly. He's the
A.Lange & Sohne of accounting. Every morning I pray for his health
before I pray for my own.
Why am I retelling all this? Last year, I met Ivan, an accountant from
Adelaide. Ivan kindly helped me setting up a small radio retail business
which is now celebrating it’s first birthday. Over the past twelve
months, we exchanged numerous emails, phone calls, we worked together on
the website, and we’ve spent many late evenings trying to find a
strategy to launch new products. Quite frankly, I have never come across
someone more passionate about my business than I am.
It would be a sin not to recommend Ivan. I bet there is someone out
there, in Adelaide, right now, thinking of taking their business to the
next level, or simply, looking for a passionate, enthusiastic,
trustworthy accountant. If this is you, or someone you know, then give
him a call and simply mention ‘Nick, the watchmaker from Sydney’. I have
no idea what he can do for you, but I can guarantee that you would be
hard pressed to find a more passionate and a better value for money
accountant in Adelaide.
For complete transparency: Ivan did not pay, or even ask to be mentioned
in this newsletter. The idea is entirely mine, on merit, my way of
saying ‘thank you for going the extra mile’.
An unsolicited 5 star Google feedback, so to speak.
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