I Was Sure I Was Going To Win
I HAVE ACCEPTED THE FACT THAT SUMMER IS OVER. Considering that it is now early November you would think that I would have reached that conclusion some time ago. I’m a hard sell.
In my mind it is always summer just like in my knees it is always mid-winter in the Yukon. Reality is something altogether different.
I began to have the first inklings that winter was, in fact, zeroing in on us several weeks ago. It happened on the day when I first used the remote starter on the Toyota to warm up the interior before we had to go out. Doing that is a sure sign of a change – more so than the calendar or a holiday. If I feel that I need to preheat my personal oven I know that it is time to hang up all of my Hawaiian Shirts until spring.
Despite the astronomically long odds I was really counting on winning that Billion Dollar plus lottery
recently. That amount of money had me wondering – How much would a Tropical island (With Wi-Fi) cost? Unfortunately, there are so few tropical islands on the market that it is hard to get a reliable cost estimate.
A guy can dream though, can’t he?
I’d even be willing to brush up on my Spanish, French, or whatever language so that I can be a benign despot on my island with my very own Starbucks. One has to treat the Baristas with kindness or they turn on you and might even Pumpkin Spice you.
Sadly, I did not win that Billion Dollar plus lottery jackpot. I could have done such good things with that money. After paying off bills and setting up a number of trust funds for the youngsters in the family (Education – not to make them into The Idle Rich). I would have used a healthy chunk of that cash to alter our world. First thing would be to turn up the thermostat. After that it’s all details and Trinkets and Beads.
When I mentioned this all to an acquaintance over coffee he suggested that I get myself some new knees. It’s not that the idea of new knees bothers me – it’s the installation of said fake knees. I’ve had a number of medical sorts tell me that I am not a good candidate for new body parts.
Those new joints by “Craftsman” are all designed to fit your basic human body. I don’t have one of those. Mine was a special order or maybe, more accurately, it was a Quality Control Reject that still got out of the door. My bone structure is such that the off-the-shelf knees, hips and other parts would not fit. You can’t put a 2019 Ferrari transmission into a 1972 Ford Pinto. It just ain’t gonna fit.
Game, Set, Match to Reality.
It is November and even though it is not yet astronomically winter, in my corner of the world, it sure is. I’ve got my heavy-duty winter coat on along with a supply of gloves, scarves, and those nifty little chemical reaction hand warmers.
Someone else won that lottery (or will). I will need to find them and convince them to buy that Tropical Island of my dreams and then name me to some high office with no difficult duties and good benefits (such as free coffee and tasty food).
A boy can keep his dreams alive. He just can’t get new knees.