Lucky me!

NOTE: This is an example of the kind of column I would write once a week for the newspaper. Readers told me they loved hearing stories about me and my dog Ted, and so Ted became one of the most famous dogs in the county for a couple years.

I walked around with a lottery ticket that was almost worth $500,000,000 for a few hours this week, and that was kind of fun.

I’m usually the guy acting impatient behind people playing lotto at the gas station in the morning, but I look at it as they’re on their way to work too. These are, after all, potential millionaires, and hopefully they won’t forget us little people.

The lady behind the counter asked me, “You want a lottery ticket? It’s worth half a billion dollars tonight.”

How could I say no? It’s like Wayne Gretzky says: You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.

I was a potential half-billionaire for about 10 hours maybe, and I never even really put much thought into what I’d do with my winnings. We Lutherans don’t like to get our hopes up. I tucked the ticket into my wallet and tried to forget about it.

Thursday night I finally broke down and checked the ticket. Nope, I didn’t win. I’m kind of surprised actually. That ticket had a good, lucky feel to it. I thought for sure this one would bring me a dazzling unexpected windfall.

The $250 million take-home would have been $50 million for every degree Fahrenheit above zero the world could muster Thursday morning as my dog Ted and I took our morning constitutional. I think we’re both feeling a little cooped up, and the deep snow out back makes it a tough slog to reach the woods. I wouldn’t be crazy about going out for walks either if my undercarriage were only a couple inches above the snowdrifts.

Ted was probably thinking a nice heated walkway would be a good use of some of those millions, and I was sort of thinking the same thing. I’d probably build a pole barn tall enough to shoot some hoops in the winter, or maybe just a million-dollar estate with an indoor swimming pool and basketball court. Kanye West probably has one of those.

You could probably build a pretty awesome library, I imagine, pay for lavish landscaping, water features, a fountain, a skating rink, every television station known to mankind, cars, trucks, boats, snowmobiles, jet skis, motorcycles …

But what point would that prove, and how would you have time to use all that stuff? I guess I wouldn’thave to work anymore, but then what? Sit around and indulge?

I saw a quote from George Carlin on Facebook the other day: “Trying to be happy by accumulating possessions is like trying to satisfy hunger by taping sandwiches all over your body.”

Now, I don’t know about that statement; I get hung up on the tape part of it. If you used scotch tape the bread would rip or the tape just plain wouldn’tstick. If you used duct tape, who’d really want to eat a sandwichcovered in that adhesive goop?

It makes sense though, and I imagine Carlin knew what he was talking about. I imagine he amassed quite apile of cash during his career.

But really, why would I need that kind of money? It’s fun to dream about all the extravagant items a person could buy with that kind of money, but in the end would my life be any better? A lot of people are looking for that fast fortune, but is it as satisfying as something you’ve worked to earn?

On the plus side, I wouldn’t have to worry about making ends meet. On the negative, is there anyone I know who would see me as anything more than a walking paycheck – a wallet with legs? And isn’t there a so-called “curse” thatfollows lottery winners? Who needs that kind of bad mojo?

One can buy a lot of Valentine’s Day candy with $500 million … suite tickets for the Pistons, Tigers AND the Lions. My friend joked that I should buy the Pistons with my winning lottery ticket.

But it wasn’t meant to be. The scanner read my ticket, beeped and puked out a slip of paper that said “NOT A WINNER” — way to let a guy down easy! — and both the worthless ticket and the readout found their way into the garbage can below the scanner.

So I finished my meal, drove home to my warm house and was greeted by my buddy Ted, who is currently paying dividends on the money I spend on Alpo by keeping my feet warm on these frigid winter days and nights.

There’s a lot more I could want, but there’s not a lot more I could need.