Mega Millions

Well, I’m not a millionaire….and neither are you. WTF? How is it possible that with 25 numbers on my card I only get 1 right??? Bunch of BS if you ask me. Now for the good news. No one else got all the numbers either, so now we have jackpot for tonight estimated at $325 MM!!!!! I mean come on. I can’t even begin to imagine what I would do with that much money. Why shouldn’t it happen to me? Why shouldn’t it happen to you? Why does it always happen to the 98 year old woman who leaves it all to her cats? Or to the 43 year old man from Kentucky who vows not to change his life at all and continues to drive his 1978 Datsun pickup to work? Why do reality makeover shows only involve “deserving” people? Why can’t a guy like me who drives 3 hours a day, works hard for his paycheck and family get a little break? Why shouldn’t normal be rewarded once in a while instead of only the extraordinary? Why must I have lost a leg, or adopted 18 children, or served in the military, or lost my spouse, or had my house destroyed in a freak lava flow, or been abducted by Aliens in order to have any attention paid to me?

Maybe what I’m saying here is that I’m tired of being normal. Or maybe I’m okay with being normal so long as it doesn’t lump me into the category of “you get absolutely no extra benefits because you are like everyone else.” And please don’t tell me I should be grateful that my family is healthy, that I have a roof over my head, that I have a job, that I have all of my limbs, that I have others who fight for my freedom, that I am able to enjoy life, that I live in America. I know all of that, and other than the health part which I cannot control, I have all of those things because I work my ass off every single flippin day. I get up at 5 am and work until 9 pm, and coach my kids, and join boards, and volunteer, and donate to charities so that I’m not that waste of oxygen that sits on his/her ass and waits for life to give them something. Yet here I find myself lumped into the same group called “normal and average” with roughly 3 billion other people because some other all-american gets up at 4 am and saves a bus of burning kids on the way to work. Because some other modern day Robin Hood not only coaches his kids, but starts a baseball league for mentally challenged kids who he ends up adopting. Because some great gal creates a foundation to feed all of the starving left-handed Cuban born, green-eyed girls in the US. Because some other philanthropist gives the keys to his car to a homeless man on the side of the street. Someone will always be better. Someone will always do more.

So what does that say about me?? Should I just give up? If my efforts are going to be so mindlessly lumped into the “you are average, therefore you get jack” category, then why should I ever strive to be anything more than average? What does it give me? I don’t get any extra money from the government, because I’m not poor enough. Even worse, I have to pay a lot more to the government because I worked hard enough to get a good job that pays me enough money to lump me into a higher tax bracket. I don’t get any protections from the law because I am the epicenter of average. I am white. I am male. I am young. And I’m not disabled. Ergo, you get dicked however and whenever by someone who isn’t white, male, young, or able bodied. Will Extreme Home Makeover ever come to my house for doing what millions of Americans do every single day of their life with absolutely no fan faire whatsoever? I doubt it. Ty Pennington can kiss my young, white, male, able bodied ass.

I know…boo hoo for me. I should be happy that I’m in the group of haves instead of have-nots. And I truly am. Just don’t call me average…that’s my job.

How’s that for a rant??? Maybe it’s worth $352 million. Yes...I will be playing tonight with the same false hopes and dreams I had on Tuesday, only to wake up tomorrow to find out that a group of lunch ladies from Gnaw Bone, Indiana pooled their weekly $7 to hit the jackpot. They all have cats, they all plan on working, and they all plan on buying new pick-ups.