To Win or Not To Win

I’m not going to talk about it.

I’m not going to dream about it.

I bought one.

Enough Said.

Really, I bought two.

How many houses can you buy with $1.50 billion anyway?

How many islands?

How many pizzas? Martinis? Mocha Lattes?

Deep down inside, my muse is telling me I really don’t want to be a single winner of this out-of-control Powerball thing. After taxes and lawyers and doctor bills for the heart attack I surely will get, I might not be around to even SPEND money.

I mean, with all the poor, struggling, lost people in the world, how can one even enjoy 1/4 of a ridiculously ridiculous sum of money? How can you fly to Hawaii on a whim when there are driveways to be shoveled and PTA meetings to attend?

I’ve heard tales of people who have won — normal people — who have had strangers throw themselves in front of their car, slip on their driveways, and/or even fall in front of their desk, threatening to sue the winner for all the money they had. I’ve heard of groups of people suing a single winner, claiming they contributed to the purchase of the afore-mentioned winning ticket.

I’ve already dreampt away millions of dollars on wasted two dollar investments. I can’t tell you how many books I’ve published, how many museums and churches I’ve visited in France and Italy, how many Scottish moors I’ve wandered through, how many pubs I’ve visited in Ireland and how many Buddhist temples I’ve visited.

I suppose if you win half of the pot — $700 million — there’s a few more places you could call home.  You could build wings on hospitals and update falling apart nursing homes and create 10,000 scholarships in 10,000 schools.

Do you see what I mean?

I already have an ulcer just thinking about how many good things I could do for the country, for the world.

My blood pressure is rising as I barely touch on who I would share the money with, how far my personal connections would reach. Kids? Grandkids? Friends? Friends of Friends? Kids of Friends? Grandkids of Friends?

You see, it’s much too much for me to think about.

Better to be poor and calm than filthy rich and confused.

I bought two.

Enough Said.