So a billion and a half bucks
went to someone else,
someone who bought a lottery ticket
after pumping gas
or buying a container of milk at the supermarket,
someone who threw down a couple of dollars
on a whim.
This means I won't be cruising around the world anytime soon,
or wearing tailor made suits,
or donating to my favorite causes,
or financing friends and family.
No new cars in my future,
no new mansions, no summer homes in The Hamptons
with servants to cook and clean for me.
This means I'll be spending time at home
sleeping in my own bed, my head on my own pillow,
wearing comfortable jeans, driving my 1995 Mazda,
donating twenty bucks now and then to a good cause,
helping family and friends by being there for them, sans checkbook,
and my wife will continue cooking comfortable meals
and I will continue cleaning up afterward.
I'll have free time to write and read,
follow baseball news and politics,
watch cop shows on television with my sweetheart at my side.
There will be no need
to speak with lawyers, estate planners, tax consultants, financial advisors,
real estate agents, interior designers, travel consultants
and distant cousins
with a once-in-a-lifetime investment opportunity.
I didn't buy a lottery ticket
like that guy who won a billion and a half bucks
because I already have what I need,
and as Stephen Wright says,
“You can't have everything. Where would you put it?”
Wayne Scheer has been nominated for four Pushcart Prizes and two Best of the Nets. He's published numerous stories, poems, and essays in print and online including Revealing Moments, a collection of flash stories. His short story “Zen and the Art of House Painting” has been made into a short film.
