Based in Northern Kentucky, Midlife Pickle is a blog by Mollie Bentley exploring the shock that she is smack dab in the middle of life.

The Lottery

The Lottery

I’m not a fan of the lottery. Maybe because I’m a big short story fan and I’ve read Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery” a few too many times (If you’re not familiar, I suggest taking the time to read it here). More likely, I realize the likelihood of winning the lotto is slim to none so I go into it with a sour attitude.

My dad loves a scratch off and manages to win more than lose. Jason won $1000 on a scratch off when we were teenagers—although I don’t recall how he got his minor hands on a ticket. I’m catholic, so I’m clearly not opposed to gambling and I’ve been known to hang around a hot blackjack table for hours and hours. Still, I find the lottery to be completely ridiculous and have been known to call the lotto a “tax on stupidity.” This doesn’t go over so well with my spouse who runs the plumber’s weekly PowerBall pool.

I suppose $2 per week to daydream about what you’d do with millions is fine if you find that enjoyable, but I’m so far from being motivated by material things it’s not even a fun exercise. When the jackpot grows extra high, Jason inevitably starts listing off all the things he’s going to buy when he wins. Me, I’m not even remotely interested in the daydream. I like my Nissan Altima, I don’t carry a purse much less expensive bags, and I’ve paired my jewelry down to my wedding and engagement rings and an “M” necklace I never take off.

The only thing I would do with more money is travel. I’d take people I love on adventures. I’d show my boys places where they could learn by doing and seeing social studies and science up close and personal. I’d travel abroad on my own. Come to think of it, I already do most of those things now, except the travel abroad alone. I guess I need to start saving my pennies or throwing a couple bucks into the plumbers’ lotto pool every now and again so I can make that happen. Or maybe not…

Weirdly, I think winning the PowerBall would be just as scary as the fate of the lottery winners in Shirley Jackson’s short story. The world throws ethical challenges and moral dilemmas at those who come into large sums of money, and it often leads to their demise. I just don’t think it’s worth the gamble.

Sweaty Shavasana

Sweaty Shavasana

Spring Forward Is Not for Wimps

Spring Forward Is Not for Wimps