I just won $1,000,000,000 — that’s one billion dollars — from the lottery. Tax-free. Mystifying as I don’t remember buying a ticket, but I’m not going to argue the point. What’s next?
It’s fantasy time here on the Kachingerosa. I don’t know about you, but I lull myself into a pleasant sleep imagining what I’d do if a huge amount of money — so much that I don’t even have to count what I’m spending — were to come my way.
The only time I inherited money was when my father died. It turned out to be exactly enough to fix the dying septic system and buy a new camera. Five years, it was. Must be, because that’s when I had cancer. The money and the cancer arrived more or less together. Everything has a price.
It was the defining moment of my unfortunate relationship with my father. He was much too dead for me to thank him, but it was the single nicest thing he ever did for me. No longer being alive, he could not, this once, ruin it with a lot of snarky not-funny jokes at my expense.
After the executors finally coughed up a check, we had the septic system repaired. So we wouldn’t have to abandon the house and live in the car. We should have had the well done at the same time, but who knew? It wasn’t enough money anyhow.
With no windfall, we’ve been paying things off. With a billion dollars … well, that would definitely turn the tide. I could pay everything off all at once. Knock this house down. Build a new one more suitable for people our age. Without stairs. Insulated windows. New heating and cooling systems. Showers with real water pressure. Hopefully, the well would coöperate. Some things money can’t buy. Apparently, water pressure is one of them.
Two new cars. The non-winter vehicle will be something entertaining and sporty, perhaps with top down possibilities. When bad weather comes, little sports coupé goes into the garage. The second car will be our winter truck, an all-wheel driver that can plow through snow drifts and laugh.
We’ll have a multi-car garage. Not just for storing junk. We’ll make sure there’s plenty of room for cars.
And there will be a garden tractor to mow the grass and clear snow off the driveway. We’ll have a guy to come tend the gardens, clear away the leaves in the autumn. Run heavy errands which involve hauling and lifting.
We won’t forget our friends. We’ll make sure everyone we care about has what they need. Maybe we’ll have a compound so we can live in close proximity. Visit without driving long distances.
Beyond this? Security for whatever years we have. Life won’t have to be so hard. We can grow old and enjoy ourselves without wondering what weird laws the government will to pass or which strange new rules will make it impossible to get medicine I need. It won’t buy us more time on earth — money doesn’t matter when your number is up — but it could make the time we’ve got a lot more fun.
More fun for us and for our friends. Maybe for you, too.