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A Boomer’s Journal

By Tom Anselm

Much to my surprise, we didn’t win the Powerball lottery last week that was up to $580 million. Jill, had we won, said she would have given most of it away anyway. Just like her.

So we decided we’d split it, after paying off our kids bills and ours as well. But then I had some different plans which included acquiring that silver-metallic Mercedes Benz SL550 convertible I saw at a stop sign last week. But, alas, it was not meant to be.

Also gone are the foundation we were going to set up, the scholarships we’d have endowed, and the golf course I was going to buy. But then, as The Man in Black told Inigo Montoya in “The Princess Bride”, I suppose I’ll just have to “get used to disappointment.”

Look, I was passed over yet again by People Magazine for “Sexiest Man Alive.” So I am getting used to it.

And remember those winners whose lives were totally messed up because of their new-found treasures. Don’t wanna be in that boat. Besides, if we had gotten all that cash, I’m sure it could have turned into quite a hassle. You know, fly-by-night financial planners, questionable charities, and people claiming to be my long-lost sister from Europe, just to name a few, all coming out of the woodwork trying to get their grubby little paws on our treasure. We may have even gotten a call from Congress about helping them out with this fiscal cliff business. What a bother!

I blew $16 on this losing venture. For that amount, I could have scored 9 holes at Florissant Golf Club with the senior rate, 5.16 gallons of unleaded regular at $3.10 per, or nearly 11 Breakfast Jacks (which may just be the best fried-egg sandwich in all of recorded history.)

This waste will not happen again. I will never retrieve those 16 bucks, and my taste buds are the worse off due to my greed. Not to mention my putting stroke. Jesus Himself said that “the poor we will always have with us.” I’m pretty sure, if asked, he would have also included the middle class. “Oh, sure, Peter… I mean, somebody’s gotta do the real work around here. Now, throw them nets back out again. Thatta boy.”

As we awaken today, and the next, and the next, God willing, we will continue our contribution to the working class of America. Even retired, I keep on keeping on as I add to the family coffers. Jill does her due diligence as a valued employee and provider of that indispensable entity, health insurance.

We will join the millions who had their brief dream of wealth shattered by the reality of an overwhelming statistical truth that the odds really were not in our favor. However, someone told me that the smaller-valued games are easier to win. Hmm. Maybe one less fried egg samich is worth another crack at that silver convertible. And Jill’s benevolent give-aways, of course. So I gotta run. I hear there’s a drawing coming up this Saturday. Wish me luck.

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