Easy To Imagine Living the Powerball Life

Editor’s note: This column was written in advance of the Powerball drawing on Nov. 28. Rory McClannahan did not win the $580 million first prize and remains editor of the Mountain View Telegraph, where he does not have theme music for his entrances and exits.

This will probably be my last column. I’m getting ready to buy some Powerball tickets as I write. The drawing for the record-breaking $580 million jackpot is coming up. So, when my numbers are called, the chances I’ll be back to work tomorrow might be slim.

I won’t quit my job until I get the “big check.” Of course, if I can help it, you won’t hear anything about it when I win. I’d be one of those people who wouldn’t want to go public. I’ve read a lot of stories about how those folks usually end up, and it never sounds good.

I’d just try to quietly disappear. Or maybe not.

I’ve always said that if I won the lottery, I’d still show up for work, but would soon be fired because I’d only do what I felt like doing. Of course, I’m a manager now and I could easily see the problems in having such an employee. So I’ve had serious second thoughts about doing that to my boss.

My wife claimed last spring, when Mega Millions was up to $600 million, that she wouldn’t want to win that much money. She says that it would bring more trouble than it’s worth. Plus, she likes to remind me that money can’t buy happiness.

I know that, but when I win, I’ll be able to buy everything that makes me happy. She hasn’t weighed in on whether it’s OK for me to win $580 million, but I guess I could just not tell her.

There are a lot of things I’ll be able to do when I win. Certainly, I’ll be able to pay off my bills, take care of my family and my extended family. I’ll probably get a new truck for myself, and, of course, a nice sports car. I’ll be able to donate substantial amounts of cash to deserving charities.

I know that with great riches, people will accuse me of changing. Mark my words, I’ll be the same guy I always was, just with a boatload of money.

However, I’ll have to make a few changes to reflect my increased status in the community. To make sure everyone knows this, I’ll hire John Williams — the guy who wrote the music for Star Wars and Indiana Jones — to come up with theme music that will be played every time I enter or exit a room by the musicians I’ll hire to follow me around.

On special occasions, I’ll hire the “Let’s get ready to rumble!” guy to announce my entrance. You know, just to make sure people know I’m around.

Of course, being filthy rich means that some people will be bothering me for contributions, so I’ll have to hire a bodyguard or two. I’ll need someone to schedule my appointments, because I’m sure those who hold the levers of power will want my advice.

While I’m at it, I’ll probably have to hire a chef and a personal trainer. The kids will need private teachers, as well.

And I’ll just have to obtain the services of a biographer, because now that I’m rich and powerful, everyone will want to read about me. We all know it’s important to control the message, so I’ll probably have to have a couple of media consultants on retainer, not to mention an attorney or two.

Ah, yes. My days will be so much easier after I cash that big check and start living the life to which I would like to become accustomed.