South Dakota humorist Dorothy Rosby explains how she squandered her good luck and cautions you not to do the same.
I once won $700. It was at a time in my life when $700 would have made the difference between ramen noodles and ramen noodles with a slice of bologna on the side. I was earning minimum wage, paying off car and college loans, and eating vegetarian meals, but not by choice. Seven hundred dollars would have been lifestyle changing. And I won it!
Too bad I wasn’t there to claim it.
I won a goldfish once though, and I was there to claim it—unfortunately. A goldfish is only slightly worse than the one thing my sister has won thus far: an oat bucket. She won it long ago at a 4-H event so I don’t even think it was a booby prize. It quickly became a scrub bucket in our home and she didn’t even get out of scrubbing the floors for contributing it to the family.
I won a computerized diagnostic test for my car several years ago. But the mechanic that gave it away won bigger than I did. The test discovered $300 worth of car repairs that needed to be done pronto, at least the computer thought so.
I’ve also won a five-dollar discount off a utility bill, one package of low-fat hot dogs, an extra-large tee-shirt sporting the logo of a beverage I don’t drink, and several prizes that required me to pay large deposits if I actually wanted to receive them. (I didn’t.)
You can see why I once considered myself lucky—sort of. Then recently, a convenience store I frequent gave away $1000. I signed up to win every time I stopped in for a treat, which was pretty darn often. But I didn’t win $1000—though I probably spent that much on treats. Last summer the same establishment gave away a new car. I signed up daily. But I’m still driving my old car.
Finally it hit me like a ton of bingo cards: What if we’re all born with a quota of winner’s luck to use as we see fit. In the process of all of the “winning” I’ve done, I went and squandered my allotment. And I have nothing left to show for it—except on extra-large tee shirt.
Winner’s luck is, of course, the stuff that enables you to win new cars, Caribbean cruises, and homemade baked goods. This is not to be confused with Winner’s Skill, which allows you to win Olympic gold medals, Super Bowl rings, and bowling trophies.
Winner’s Luck is pure luck. The only skill involved is knowing when to access it. In other words, you might not want to buy an entire book of raffle tickets for an afghan or a 19-inch-television unless you desperately want an afghan or a 19-inch television.
If you’re one of those people who complain that you never win anything, think back over your life. I bet you can recall the ways that you’ve spent your luck as foolishly as I have—a ten-dollar winning lottery ticket here, a pan of brownies in a cake walk there.
On the other hand, if you really haven’t won anything, you should still have your quota of luck. Use it wisely. The next time someone wants to sell you a raffle ticket for a Thanksgiving turkey or a stair stepper, go ahead and donate your money to the cause. But tell them to keep the ticket. Save your luck for something you really want.
If someone had explained this to me long ago, I would only have purchased lottery tickets (like the one above from a public domain image posted on wikimedia commons) for large quantities of money or raffle tickets for European adventures and, with the luck I once had, I probably would have won. And, believe me, I’d have been there to claim my prize.
Dorothy Rosby is an author and humor columnist whose work appears regularly in publications in the West and Midwest. You can subscribe to her blog at www.dorothyrosby.com or contact at www.dorothyrosby.com/contact.
