If . . .

It has been embarrassing.  It has been frustrating.  I feel so stupid.  I blew it.  I could have been rich!  Rich, I say!  But I blew it! 

“They” (whoever “they” are) tells me that it only takes one to win.  “They” also tell me that “you can’t win unless you play the game.”  Well, I almost did.  I almost bought a ticket to play the game in the recent Powerball Lottery that paid out $1.765 billion dollars.  But I didn’t.  I had almost convinced myself that the odds were pretty good at 292,201,338 to one.  Though the odds were looking good in my favor, I didn’t purchase a ticket. 

 

I forgot.

 

The next thing I knew was some person in California had bought the winning ticket and walked away filthy rich.  I have been grieving ever since.  I blew it!

 

Yeah, it could have been me if I had bought a ticket . . . if I had played the game.  The truth of the matter is that I would never have won. I have an affliction . . . “bad luck”.  Especially when it comes to gambling and contests.  I never win.

 

The family motto, as I have told my children for years, which is emblazoned on our family crest is:

 

Gloom, despair, and agony on me

Deep, dark depression, excessive misery

If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all

Gloom, despair, and agony on me

 

Our family motto was made famous on the high-brow country comedy, Hee Haw.  They were singing my song . . . playing my soundtrack.  No more concise words ever summed up a person’s mantra.  Roy Clark and Buck Owens same it well.  I figure if the shoe fit, wear it.  I wear it well.  Always.

 

“You may have already won $10,000,000.”  Remember that catchy phrase?  For years I read that phrase in the mail I would get.  Ed McMahon and Dick Clark told me so.  At least that is what the American Family Publishers wanted me to believe . . . I had won!  If you can’t believe Ed McMahon and Dick Clark, who can you believe?  Publisher Clearing House ran a similar sweepstakes.  I was told I had won there too . . . or so I thought.  Despite purchasing lots of worthless magazines to increase my odds of winning, I never saw the ten million dollars or even one dollar.  I didn’t even get a participant trophy or medal.

 

That is the sort of luck I have.

 

Daily, my box for email is filled with proclamations of winning.  Supposedly I have won Apple iPhones and iPads.  From cell phone companies I have won their biggest selling phones.  I have won gift certificates from all the major corporations and manufacturers—Walmart, Lowes, and Target to name a few.  I have won vehicles from local auto dealerships.  You name it and I have probably won it at one time or another.  You would think with my impressive winning streak that I’d be banned from the competition.  But, no . . . instead they just want my name, address, phone number, and Social Security number.  They assure me that if I include my banking information, I can receive my prizes even faster!

 

I’m still waiting.

 

292,201,338 to one . . . I was so close!  I could taste the richness of being a millionaire.  (I would have said billionaire, but by the time the government took what it believes is its fair share . . . well, there would only be millions left. So, millionaire.)  I was even humming If I Had a Million Dollars by the Barenaked Ladies . . . thinking, I can do this! 

 

But alas, it was not to be.  I’d blame it on luck, but luck had nothing to do with it.  The truth of the matter is . . . I forgot.  I forgot to buy a ticket.  You can’t win if you don’t have a horse in the race.  I was so close.  If . . . if I had only bought a ticket, you wouldn’t be reading this drivel.  Nope, I be off celebrating by buying my own Costco or Sam’s Club . . . or buying my wife a house.  Oh well.  Next time.