IT is quite a relief that I didn't win the $195 million Powerball lottery last week. My brother, who lives in a relatively bullet-free area of Oregon, said he picked up a couple of Powerball tickets for me. Odds are, winning
isn’t everythingThe tickets apparently contained my favorite numbers, the same ones that never seem to work when I play keno in Las Vegas. I'm married to these numbers now, a solid core of five numbers and about three back-bench substitutes that I'll send in when needed. I'm afraid if I stop using these numbers, they'll suddenly win.
I actually once did pick seven out of eight numbers on a keno ticket in Vegas, different numbers than the ones on my team now. Winning, I learned, was a bad thing. It paid about $1,700, but it convinced me that it is not impossible to win lotteries, even though the odds are against you.
It's said that you are 40 times more likely to die falling out of bed than win the lottery. That's pretty harsh. Whenever the experts try to tell you the odds of winning vast sums of cash, they tie it together with the odds of something really horrible happening to you.
I don't know of one person who died falling out of bed. I've known people who died IN bed. Lots of people die in bed. The experts never say that you are 1,000 times more likely to die in bed than win the lottery. See, if they told me that, I'd probably start sleeping on the couch.
Another favorite thing is to say that you are, like, 100 times more likely to be hit by an asteroid than win the lottery. That doesn't make sense. I mean, is that asteroid going to come down and hit me personally or kill thousands of people? There's a big difference, odds-wise.
But I did win the lottery, at least the casino keno version. The odds of me picking seven numbers out of eight were enormous. I was probably eight times more likely to get run over by a handi-van. But I won.
SO now, the odds don't even faze me. I assume I'm going to win. And so, I started figuring out what I was going to do with all that dough I'd win in the Powerball lottery.
After taxes, the take would be about $100 million. First off, I figured I'd have to tip my brother 50 bucks for buying me the ticket. Then, he'd get mad and sue me for being such a tightwad. Then, I'd have to pay a bunch of attorneys to handle the case. Then, we'd settle out of court and I'd end up giving my brother half.
Then, the state of Hawaii would probably claim that I had to pay all kinds of taxes on what was left. I'd refuse and they'd indict me for tax evasion. Then, I'd have to hire more lawyers to fight that. Then, we'd come to an agreement where I could stay out of jail if I would give the state half of my winnings.
Then, my wife would demand that we move into a bigger house and she'd want to buy all kinds of cars and furs and stuff. I'd refuse. So she'd divorce me. Then, I'd have to hire more lawyers. Then, I'd lose and have to pay her half of what was left of my money, as well as $10,000-a-day child support and $100-a-day dog support.
Then, I'd be so depressed that I'd go on a wild spending spree with lots of liquor and babes. Then, some pimps would beat and rob me and leave me dazed and bleeding in a seedy motel room with only $45 left to my name.
Then, I'd be back here writing this column, wondering if my wife and dog would ever return.
So, you can imagine how relieved I was when I lost the Powerball lottery. Not one of my quiver of numbers was picked: zero out of six. What are the odds of that?
I was ecstatic. I jumped for joy. I felt like Scrooge waking up on Christmas morning. I had beaten the odds! I had lost! And, I still had my house, wife, child and dog. My brother and I were still on speaking terms. It truly is a wonderful life!
Charles Memminger, winner of
National Society of Newspaper Columnists
awards in 1994 and 1992, writes "Honolulu Lite"
Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
Write to him at the Honolulu Star-Bulletin,
P.O. Box 3080, Honolulu, 96802
or send E-mail to charley@nomayo.com or
71224.113@compuserve.com.
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