Posted by: docdenbow | May 7, 2012

Be Careful What You Wish For


“I don’t care much for money, money can’t buy me love.”  Now who was it who said that? Well, I’ve come to the conclusion that whoever did say that was a deluded individual. Very deluded. Take Simon Cowell for instance. A 52 year old man with glistening superwhite teeth and nary a line besmirching his physiognomy. Things like botox treatments, a nip here, a tuck there and cosmetic dentistry all cost a bob or 2. Then silkily delicious airheaded females throw themselves at him. Did I forget to mention that ol’ Si is loaded and is reputed to make £50 million a year? So would Si have his pick of the chicks if his teeth were falling out, his face going saggy, and he drove an old Fiesta? Tricky one that. Well maybe, but they wouldn’t the glamourous ones he seems to use and discard like old tissues. Nope, my guess is Si would hang around Bingo halls seeing what “spare” he could pick up, show her a good time with a curry and whisk her off to his tower block council flat to do the deed. I reckon they’d be a motley crew of varying shapes and sizes and ages quite unlike the ones he gets now.

This was not meant to be an attack on the Cowellmeister, master of all he surveys, but more a social observation of money, wealth and affluence. How many of us buy lottery tickets? For myself I buy two tickets a week, one for the Wednesday draw and one for the Saturday draw. Why? The odds of winning are truly astronomical and would a lottery win really make me happy? True it would allow me to fulfill many long held passions but do I really want those passions fulfilled? I would like to see all of my debts wiped out, pay the mortgage off and have enough to live on, but do I really want or need to win £15 million? I’m worried about the responsibility and perhaps guilt having that sort of money would bring me.

Let’s say I win £15 million and go nuts and spend £5 million on houses, cars, holidays and gifts. That would still leave a mountain of money. I would then find watching things like Children In Need impossible as my conscience would be telling me that I don’t deserve the wealth that has been bestowed on me. I would be in a quandary about how much I should donate, whether I should donate and so on and so forth.

We all say that a lottery win wouldn’t change us. We’d still go to the same pub, we’d still have the same friends. Well that’s wrong. Plain wrong. If you had £15 million would you still be in Moxley or would you now be living in an eight bedroomed pad in Wightwick Grove on the outskirts of good old Wolverhampton. I suspect that it’s likely to be the latter, but I do wonder how long it would be before you are truly miserable surrounded by no one playing snooker on your own and sitting in your outdoor pool in torrential rain.

So you invite the old gang round to your place for a little party. So they all turn up in taxis (that you paid for) and drink your tins on Black Label and leave fag burns on your furniture, parquet floor and rip the cloth on your snooker table. When they finally leave in a fleet of cabs they spend the journey talking about you about how you only invited them to rub their noses in it and make such remarks as “who does he think he is he was born down The Lunt?” (Bilston Joke)

I am considering my options regarding lottery tickets…………………

As Roy Hodgson said to Wolves fans – “Be careful what you wish for…..”

Ciao For Now

Denbow

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Responses

  1. I think the lottery is a good thing in the hands of good people and a bad thing in the hands of bad people. If I won £15m I’d give 7.5 to the missus to sort our her family. Then I’d have the same to sort out mine. I’d pay off mortgages of close family and friends, buy them cars, a nice holiday and give them a nice little wedge to stick in the bank. I’d make sure I had at least £1m to buy my gardening equipment, a new greenhouse or two maybe and enough cash to see me to my dying day (to keep me in Carlsberg Export and Xbox games).

    Then I’d quit my job and get on with the important business of being creative. I’d write a 30 minute stand up set, and perform it around the Midlands. I’d write the twenty books I’ve tried to write in my lifetime, try writing a sitcom, publish all of my short stories and poetry myself and not care a jot what people thought.

    Cus I’d do it all many times more professionally than my actual job because my job is a means to an ends and my writing is my passion and I’d want it to be right.

    I’d still give to charity, but just a bit more than normal, and I’d make sure that Moxley and the Lunt had at least an 8 bedroomed mansion each in there manors. Just because I’m that kinda mentalist.

    No one deserves wealth, and usually the harder you work the less you have to show for it IMO. Does anyone deserve £15m? Or £15bn? I don’t think so. But if you get that kind of wealth you can do good or you can do bad. Or you can bank the cheque and do nowt. A rich mans actions say more about him than his money ever does, I reckon.

    Peace. (Nice thought provoking blog).


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