| General Non-Fiction posted June 12, 2019 | Chapters: |
...8 9 -10- 12... 
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It can cut both ways
A chapter in the book A Fly on the Wall
On Luck
by Rachelle Allen
| Background I keep a daily journal of interesting people and situations I experience. |
JANUARY 20, 1990
One of my father's favorite phrases was "You make your luck in this world." Easy for him to say! He and all of us who share his blood are known for having Saxman (our family name) Luck.
My father won the football pool so many times at work that one day, an exasperated co-worker groused, "Why don't we cut out the charade of placing our bets, Bill, and just hand our money over to you?"
Grandma Saxman was the same. She won at Bingo so many weeks (months) in a row that she actually began losing friends! Before long, she was ostracized, like a leper, to a tiny table far in the back of the Bingo hall. She had to yell, "BINGO!!" a lot louder, but the woman wasn't exactly a shrinking violet, so no inconvenience there.
Today, Saxman Luck reared its head in a big way in my life.
I'm anti-Lottery. It's described as "a game for people who aren't good at math." And that's exactly right! If you're seventy and never bought a Lottery ticket, you saved a dollar a week for fifty-two years: $2,704. Even Saxman Luck can't be pushed THAT far!
So, my new husband's birthday was last week, and when I asked what he wanted, his answer made me blanche: "I want you and your Saxman Luck to go down to the Lottery office and buy me a ticket. The jackpot is forty-seven million dollars."
"Aw, come on," I whined. "You know I'm philosophically opposed to the Lottery."
"You asked what I want; that's what I want. All it'll cost you is a buck."
We're newlyweds. How could I deny him such a simple request? How could I put my principles above my husband's birthday desires? Unthinkable!
So, in my hyper-organized way, I wrote down a bunch of numbers as they popped into my head. I even put the slip of paper into the front flap of my purse so I'd remember to play them when I went grocery shopping.
But it's not part of my shopping routine, so I didn't remember.
Anyone care to guess what numbers hit? Ohhhhhh yeah. Every. Single. One. AND the "alternate numbers," too --the ones they go to in the event of a tie. They were equally correct in their entirety.
I do believe the bud is now off our marital rose. My husband claims there was never a crueler birthday "gift." (He used air quotes for emphasis.) It didn't even help that I offered up Murphy's Law: If I'd played them, they probably would not have hit.
It's a week later now, and he continues to sulk. Who says you have to be wealthy to be a spoiled brat?
One of my father's favorite phrases was "You make your luck in this world." Easy for him to say! He and all of us who share his blood are known for having Saxman (our family name) Luck.
My father won the football pool so many times at work that one day, an exasperated co-worker groused, "Why don't we cut out the charade of placing our bets, Bill, and just hand our money over to you?"
Grandma Saxman was the same. She won at Bingo so many weeks (months) in a row that she actually began losing friends! Before long, she was ostracized, like a leper, to a tiny table far in the back of the Bingo hall. She had to yell, "BINGO!!" a lot louder, but the woman wasn't exactly a shrinking violet, so no inconvenience there.
Today, Saxman Luck reared its head in a big way in my life.
I'm anti-Lottery. It's described as "a game for people who aren't good at math." And that's exactly right! If you're seventy and never bought a Lottery ticket, you saved a dollar a week for fifty-two years: $2,704. Even Saxman Luck can't be pushed THAT far!
So, my new husband's birthday was last week, and when I asked what he wanted, his answer made me blanche: "I want you and your Saxman Luck to go down to the Lottery office and buy me a ticket. The jackpot is forty-seven million dollars."
"Aw, come on," I whined. "You know I'm philosophically opposed to the Lottery."
"You asked what I want; that's what I want. All it'll cost you is a buck."
We're newlyweds. How could I deny him such a simple request? How could I put my principles above my husband's birthday desires? Unthinkable!
So, in my hyper-organized way, I wrote down a bunch of numbers as they popped into my head. I even put the slip of paper into the front flap of my purse so I'd remember to play them when I went grocery shopping.
But it's not part of my shopping routine, so I didn't remember.
Anyone care to guess what numbers hit? Ohhhhhh yeah. Every. Single. One. AND the "alternate numbers," too --the ones they go to in the event of a tie. They were equally correct in their entirety.
I do believe the bud is now off our marital rose. My husband claims there was never a crueler birthday "gift." (He used air quotes for emphasis.) It didn't even help that I offered up Murphy's Law: If I'd played them, they probably would not have hit.
It's a week later now, and he continues to sulk. Who says you have to be wealthy to be a spoiled brat?
 Recognized |
#229 2019 |
This marriage didn't stand the test of time. But I can guarantee you that even forty-seven million dollars would not have saved it.
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