SEVEN NEW YORK STATE WORKERS today (March 31) stepped into the limelight to collect their share of hitting a $319 million lottery, said to be the fifth largest Mega Millions prize in the history of the game.
The winners each take home $19 million after taxes. These seven are among a group of 12 at their workplace who regularly participate in a group buy, but five decided to opt out when the tickets were purchased late last week. It’s reported that some of the so-called “Albany Seven” are considering sharing some of their coins with those who didn’t play.
One of winners says she plans to buy a dishwasher for starters. I like that. A practical purchase and the realization of a simple desire. I’m sure there’s much more on her shopping list. And she uttered that cliché which rings so true when she showed up at the press conference. Hey, you gotta play to win, right?
I wish these folks the very best and that their new-found wealth is put to good use, whatever direction that might take. Certainly, make their livelihoods a little easier and perhaps for deserving and needy others within their respective circles. But beware – the self-anointed do-gooders, no doubt, already are stalking the winners with opportunities.
Me? I don’t play the lottery. If I did and hit a fortune, my initial proclamation would be this: I would start offering my opinion a hell of a lot more freely at work and other venues where I am compelled to bridle my too- flexible tongue.
What I really like about the “Albany Seven” is how the winning ticket was obtained. Mike Barth was in line at the convenience story to make the group buy when he was briefly distracted by the candy bars at the counter. He slightly moved to the side and the fellow behind him cut in line to hungrily buy his ticket.
I didn't say anything because I wanted to be nice, Mike told reporters. And later I was thinking, 'Maybe that guy would have won.
He took the high road and let the greed-head plunk down his bucks for the long-shot.
In a society which often is inpatient for anything and everything – when we demand our fast-food Big Macs and other desires be delivered at Warp Factor 10 – this seems such an appropriate outcome. In fact, when I read this anecdote, I howled like a chimp on hashish at a PETA convention.
Rudeness and pushiness resulted in a three-ring, cosmic comeuppance for one clown.
So don’t tell me the fickle finger of fate (thank you, Laugh-In) doesn’t have a funny bone. And don’t try to convince me there is no God, when in fact there is and who, on occasion, likes to pull off a good practical joke on his goofy creations.
Most of all, I liked the name of the candy bar Mike selected when he stepped up to counter to buy it and the winning numbers.
It was a Snickers.
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