Powerball Fever recently gripped the states offering it, and
California is the most recent addition to those ranks. Last week I was
stunned when my friends - people who live comfortable lives and
otherwise don't seem prone to throwing their money out the window -
bought Powerball tickets. And talked rapturously about what they would
do with their winnings, about $300 million cash.
The first
thing most mentioned was how they would donate large sums of money to
help improve the lives of others. (I have kind and empathetic friends.)
Then they would save and invest a large amount, just to be sure that
$300 million would be enough to take them through their golden years.
(We're Boomers, not Depression Babies, but recent years have been so
harrowing that our fear of running out of money in retirement now rivals
that of our parents'.)
After those two gimmes come the
inevitable fantasies. Multiple homes. International
travel not involving cheap hotel chains. Servants. Cars. Designer
clothes bought at retail. Books bought at the last remaining independent
booksellers.
I'm pretty sure the comfortably well-off
didn't used to buy lottery tickets or have these fantasies. Hell, even the middle class was able to achieve most or all of those things. But in these
days of lowered expectations and a corporate culture that has conspired
to wring every dime out of must-haves that used to be affordable
(housing, healthcare, insurance, education, food, gas...), no one in
the 98 percent feels rich or confident about the future anymore.
Treading water is the new striving. Not worrying is the new luxury.
As
we roll into summer without the promise of $300 million for our bank
accounts, Powerball disappointment will fade and life will go on. We're
all pretty lucky we have enough to survive on and of course each other.
But I won't be able to stop thinking about the fact that a $300 million
payout briefly became a viable exit plan. Surely there has to be a
better way to get off the fiscal cliff.
