What's money got to do with it?

So today I was thinking, "What would I do if I won the lottery?" Actually, nothing. I will never win the lottery - I don't play the lottery, so there's that whole problem - however, I do go down to the local American Legion post every Thursday night and buy $20.00 worth of Treasure Hunt tickets. Somehow, taking my chances with 1000 other members of my community seems less wasteful than blowing it on lottery tickets and fighting with twenty million other hopefuls, and I can better justify throwing good money away if I know it is supporting my local Legion.

I have been going for several months, always certain that my ticket will not be pulled from the enormous tumbler, but secretly hopeful and planning what to do with my windfall. This week, the jackpot reached $130,000. I do not consider myself a greedy individual, so $130,00 seems like a lovely, conservative, un "Scrooge-y" amount. I really have everything I need, and to tell the truth, most of the things I want. I do not need to win mega millions, so I started looking into all of the smaller things I could do with $130, 000.

After only a few minutes, it has become apparent that I do not have nearly as many things as I want, and I am far more greedy than I previously believed. It's not even that I would piss it away on silly things; I would pay off my kids' student loans, pay off my home, maybe buy cars for some family. They wouldn't even be stupid cars, just nice, reliable cars, maybe with a few "bells and whistles." Personally, I would LOVE to have a house on a beach. Again, nothing fancy, a modest house on a modest beach for modest me and my modest friends and family.

It turns out $130,000 is not enough. Really? Nope. Do you know what I cannot do with $130,000? All of that stuff. I can do one or two - maybe a couple cars or the house. Certainly not loans for grad school for brilliant children (my thoughts on higher ed loans are a matter for another conversation and I don't want to use that kind of language on this site). Most definitely not a beach house.

So I am back to daydreaming.

As a high school English teacher, I daydream a lot. (What if all of my students loved to read? What would it be like if everyone loved the language like I do? Dear Heavens, what if, in some alternate reality, all of the research papers came in? On time!?!?) When I am not wistfully imagining a world of English-loving students, I sometimes diverge into conversations with God about an unexpected influx of cash. "You know, I would be a very good steward of the money. I would be generous; I would do so many goods things town, my friends, my family - heck, for strangers! I would not let the money change me. If you give me the chance, I would totally prove it. Give me a shot. Put me in, Coach!"

Oh, I would retire. No way would I be that guy, "Sure, I am going to keep working after I win $30 million." No, I will walk out an not look back, but I might sub, I might volunteer. I could open a rec center for the students I would have been teaching if I were still poor (ouch, that's harsh). On second thought, I would open a bar that caters to teachers. "Final exams coming up? Bring your grading key to the bar and get a free beer. Standardized testing week? Come tell us how many of your students actually went down on the test, and you get two glasses of wine. Administration on your ass about how many "Fs" you have due to absences, not-handed-ins, and "I didn't read the book" s? Come pour out your heart to our bartenders and a bottle magically appears. Parents phone calls? You drink for free for the night." Judgement free zone.

As things stand today, I am still an English teacher with no money, and the most reckless thing I can bring myself to do is take my $20.00 to the Legion. Next week, I anticipate the Treasure Chest will be $150,000. Maybe if I win I will not pay off the house. Maybe I will sell it and get that little place on that little beach, slip my kids a couple grand and disappear for a few months. Maybe longer. Maybe if I am careful with what is left I can open up a little bar on the beach - would that be ok, God? - teachers welcome.