Should you win the lottery, do you have a plan?

The billboard along I35 somewhere in Iowa informed drivers that a lottery was currently worth $377 million dollars.

“What would you even do with that much money if you won?” asked my friend Heidi.

It’s funny because one of the things I do when I can’t get to sleep is count how I would spend a windfall of money (rather than sheep). A big windfall. And I’ve been doing this for enough years that I think I have a pretty good plan.

Good plans are important for lottery winners. It’s pretty well established that winning a lottery (or I suppose inheriting a fortune) can destroy people’s lives just as likely as improve them. Google “lottery winners who lost it all” and a long list of articles detailing the sad experiences of individuals whose lives tanked after the big win appears. Broken marriages, bad financial decisions costing millions, even contract killings by greedy relatives all seem pretty common. Who’d a thunk? 

So here is my plan, at least until the next time I have trouble sleeping:

1. Provide financial security of my personal loved ones. For each of my family members and close personal friends, current and past, I could establish annuities that would give each about $4000 a month into perpetuity. I settled on that amount since it is enough to keep a roof over one’s head and food on the table without it being so much that it would be a disincentive to work. It could be added to a current income to provide nicer vacations, fund children’s educations, buy that cabin, save for retirement, etc. I’m a believer of UBI so this would be my version of it.

2. Endow two scholarships to two library schools. I would establish two endowments each for the University of Iowa and Minnesota State University, Mankato library schools for full ride scholarships for library grad school. These would be enough to cover tuition, fees, materials, AND room and board for all four recipients. At each school, one recipient would need to be BIPOC. 

3. Fund an executive director position for the state school library association. I would create a fund that paid $100,000 per year to create a job that would help run the state’s school library association (currently ITEM). This person would write the newsletter, communicate with other professional education and library organizations, recruit new members, organize lobbying efforts, conduct surveys, manage conferences and workshops, and maintain the club records. The board would supervise and most of the work would still be done by members. If the membership numbers dropped below a certain level, the position would be eliminated. 

4. Establish endowments for my favorite local libraries. The Sac City Public Library, the Blue Earth County Library, and the Dakota County Library would all be beneficiaries of my gratitude for the services they have provided me and my family through the years. The gifts would be large enough that the interest alone should greatly increase their materials and programming budgets.

5. Piss the rest away. Yes, I would spend some of my winnings on myself. Maybe a modest house on a lake, a small pickup truck, more exotic vacations. Maybe a new recliner to replace my current 20-year-old model. But I really don’t have a ton of desire for material objects at this point in my life. And I don’t care how rich I was, I’d still buy cheap wine.

I’ve never had a lot of respect for rich people who act rich. I don’t need a space shuttle or a mansion or a limo or a seaside villa or expensive watch. The accoutrements of wealth seem mostly like a lot of work. I guess money is really wasted on lazy people like me. But maybe someday I will actually buy a lottery ticket* to test the theory.

And how would you spend your $377,000,000?

*I’ve always thought of the lottery as a tax on the mathematically challenged...

Type-two fun

Ciudad Perdida, 2016

There’s no hard science behind it, but outdoor athletes and adventurers have been discussing the “fun scale” for years. Type-one fun is enjoyable from start to finish. Type-two fun is only fun in retrospect. And type-three fun consists of activities that seem fun in concept but then devolve into fear and danger—if you make it home alive, your memories of the experience are nowhere near positive.

I’d argue that type-two fun, by adding meaning to our lives, might contribute the most to overall happiness. “Why Type-Two Fun Feels So Good,” Amanda Loudin, Outside Magazine, Aug 29, 2021

Questions I often ask myself when on a challenging backpacking trip is “Why in the hell am I doing this instead of sitting on the deck of a cruise ship with a margarita in my hand? Isn’t this supposed to be a vacation?” Dragging myself up a “two-hour-hill,” feeling the backpack getting heavier and my back aching more, wondering if the hot spots on my feet will turn into blisters or if I will lose a toenail, wiping the sweat streaming down my face, and scratching the latest bug bites on my ankle, all counterbalance the enjoyment of the scenery, fresh air, and serenity of the hike. Yet the moment I get home, I tend to relate only the joys of the experience. And immediately start thinking about my next “challenge.”

Loudin’s article in Outdoor Magazine cited above helped me understand this seemingly irrational behavior - suffering, and then signing up for more. While the ultramarathoners she uses as examples who exhibit this kind of behavior are far above me in effort and skill, it is comforting to know that I am not the only person who has “type-two fun.” I’m not the only nut job on the planet.

I’ve been pretty lucky about rarely if ever experiencing type-three fun and having more than my share of type-one fun, but I usually plan activities knowing they will be type-two. A couple of years ago, I posted “Rating My Hikes” to the Blue Skunk. As I review the seven hikes I described, I would classify six of them as type-two and just one of them as type-one. (My daily walks and exercise are universally type-one. Am I pushing hard enough?)

While hiking came to my mind when reading this article, I am sure other activities could be described as type-two for others. Readers, anything you do that is only pleasurable in reflection?

A bad couple of weeks - but viewed from a distance

The last few weeks have been grim - news-wise. The horrific evacuation from Afghanistan and associated deaths from the suicide bomber, hurricane and tornado in Louisiana and the East Coast, wild fires and drought throughout the West and in northern Minnesota, homicides endemic, a surge in COVID deaths and overflowing hospitals, contencious school board meetings around mask mandates and rocky back-to-school starts, lots of jobs going unfilled - you name it, the headlines made you wonder why you got out of bed that morning.

But I am viewing these happenings from a quiet, leafy distance. I know of them only through my TV and computer screens, radio broadcasts, and newspapers. While I care, I am also removed. I can sit here feeling quite safe in my little suburban townhouse. I have some money in the bank; I am retired; I am in good health; I have no outstanding warrants for my arrest; and my friends and family are largely in the same boat. The loudly proclaimed existential threats on the front pages will, into the foreseeable future, remain hypothetical for me.

I expressed this observation to a friend a while ago who replied, “Yes, you are privileged.” He’s a pretty “woke” guy and I am sure he meant it in context of white privilege and all that it confers. He’s right, of course. I am white. I am male. I am tall. I am healthy. I have minimal mental disorders or inadequacies. I faced no great societal obstacles on my road from childhood to retirement.

Yet…

The racial equity movement does itself no favors by using the term “privilege.” To me, and I am sure many others to whom the term is applied, there is the implication that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth and hard work, good choices, delayed gratification, compassion, and even dumb luck had nothing to do with my current happy status. I owe everything I have to being born white.

While my life’s path was not blocked by racial prejudice, it was not necessarily one that was straight or smooth. There were many, many forks in the road - to commit crimes or be law abiding; to complete my education or drop out; to conform to the rules of my places of employment or quit; to spend my leisure time writing and speaking professionally or playing golf. Whether others attribute my current enviable life situation to white privilege or hard work or will of the gods, makes not a whole lot of difference to me at this point in my life. 

But I do believe how others evaluate the successes and failures of my children and grandchildren may very well be impactful. I want all young people to take responsibility for the choices they make and be proud of their successes and learn from their mistakes. That their fate is not determined by their race. I do hope they acknowledge that some of their positive opportunities and experiences come from advantages that come from being white. In the end, I want them, like me, to own their lives.

Enjoy your newspaper this morning.