The Golden Ticket

I should be so lucky. Of course, it would help if we defined "luck" first. I think that winning almost always has a certain element of luck. This is why I stop to pick pennies up off the sidewalk even though at some point this particular habit will probably be the thing that snaps my spine or hit by a car. I have also learned not to mess with a streak. If something is successful, leave it alone. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. Sometimes I will even go so far as to wish for something by being so indiscreet as to close my eyes and say it out loud. This is often in conjunction with field goal attempts made by professional football kickers, but I do take it very seriously.
Then there's the matter of winning a prize. Last week, my son was convinced that he had won thirty-five thousand dollars. All he had to do was to head down to a nearby car dealership and pick up his prize. The fact that the certification for this award showed up with my name on it. Not his. That did not mean that he wasn't feeling lucky. A very brief and extremely casual perusal of the fine print had him convinced that he had won "at least" a three hundred and fifty dollar Wal-Mart gift card. Dreams really do come true. Even if that dream does include using your old man's name and login to access your prize package.
After several minutes of rational discussion, however, he was dissuaded from this bonanza, and he let it go with the tiniest whimper. It seemed like such a great deal. That's why I will be happy to let him know about Taco Bell's latest promotion: Food for Life. Sorry, since we're talking about Taco Bell here, I think it's important to refer to it as "Food" for Life, or what's left of it after clogged arteries and multiple heart procedures. All one has to do is find one of eleven dollar bills floating about the United States, the ones with special serial numbers that identify them as winners. And you could win quesaritos, gorditas, chalupas and any other permutation of ground beef, melted cheese and tortillas you might care to imagine for the rest of your life. Oh, to be so lucky.
Or perhaps it's best to keep this to myself. I'm only speculating here, but I would put the cash value of such a prize at about half a million dollars. Three meals a day for seventy-five years at about five bucks a meal? That's a lot of nachos. Of course, maybe if they scaled it back a bit and made it special pennies, I might have a chance. Just one really long week. With sour cream. Lucky me.