Sometimes I think that winning the lottery could solve my problems.

Ticket to Paradise

Let me elaborate: I don’t need to win multimillions. Maybe just a couple of mill. Enough to pay the bills and (carefully) live on. I desire not to be Warren Buffet rich–I just want to have enough money to do my own thing without being hassled by the Man, you know? Besides, a lot of people who win a staggering amount of money often suffer a staggering loss of themselves.

What would I do? I’d find a modest beach house and write. My wife and I would raise our daughter amidst the palms and on the sand. Really.

But, I know full well that the odds are terribly against winning anything. Even when I have that spidey sense that my numbers may turn up, it’s probably not meant to be. Case in point, my college roommate…here’s his story:

“It was the winter of 1990, and I was midway through my masters program at Northwestern.

I was born on the 22nd day of the 2nd month of the year, so the number 2 had a special meaning for me. I always thought it was my magic, special, lucky number. So, when twos appear, I pay particular attention. Well, there was a sequence of twos that was far too great to be ignored, and I just knew it was a good omen and that I was about to become a very wealthy man. The Illinois lottery was at $22 million. This is usually enough to get my attention, but wouldn’t raise my level of expectation too much. But in this case, it was part of a series of appearances of twos that made me certain that I was destined to win. There were more twos than Lincoln-Kennedy assassination coincidences.

Here are a few of the two occurrences that weekend:

• Lottery was at $22 million
• It was February (2nd month)
• It was the 22nd day of the month
• It was my 22nd birthday
• I was finishing the 2nd quarter of my 2nd degree
• My wife was in her 2nd trimester
• She was pregnant with twins
• We had been married for two years

So, I rushed to the convenience store (through the 2 inches of snow that had fallen the night before) to purchase two lottery tickets. I felt like Charlie opening a Wonka bar. I’m not superstitious by nature, but I really believed in my heart that I was going to win. It was more than hope, I truly thought that the stars had aligned perfectly to allow me to win. In the back of my mind I was rehearsing my speeches and interviews with the media.

That night, I watched intently as the little ping-pong balls spun around. Pencil gripped tightly, I wrote down the numbers as they announced them. They closed the show by thanking me for playing the lottery and wishing me good luck. I didn’t need luck, I had fate on my side!

I pulled the ticket out of my pocket  and began matching my numbers. My excitement was replaced with a feeling of shocked disappointment as I almost immediately realized that I hadn’t won the big $22 million jackpot. But maybe I won something, so I kept checking. I circled matches lightly in pencil but felt incredibly disappointed and dejected. There was a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. As they often do, the fates had played a very cruel practical joke on me. It wasn’t as bad as Oedipus and thankfully was not fatal, but I was part of a modern Greek tragedy, which is essentially the Greek’s version of Punk’d.

I circled the last number, looked at my lottery slip and, true to form, true to the destiny of my two numerology, on the entire ticket, I had correctly matched – two numbers, one of which was the number 2…”

Tough break, man.

It would still be nice to win a couple mill. Think I’ll buy a ticket this week.