If you're like me and a few million other people around America this morning, you're looking at one or more losing lottery tickets. In my case, I have nine tickets and a scanned color copy of the fifty tickets we went in on at my job.
Out of all those tickets, which cost me $14 to play, I'm going to walk away
with $1.10 in winnings. I was rather disappointed last night when I totaled up
my takings, and this morning I'm feeling more groggy than usual, as if the let
down affected my sleep. I'm not totally depressed, though. In fact, several
times I've had the fleeting thought that "I'm glad I don't have to worry
about how to spend all that money if I'd won last night." Always looking
on the bright side.
And with that train of thought, I think we should institute a national
observance of Losers’ Day. A day when all us losers
can "celebrate" the fact that we did not win back our wagers. We
don't want to overdo this celebration, so let's say that whenever the Mega
Millions lottery jackpot climbs over the half-a-billion dollars mark, on the
following day, we mark our calendars as Losers’ Day. This should be a
very special day with events and recognition of our need for a salve for our
dashed hopes and a way to forget our troubles and our empty pockets.
I can see it now. There will be a parade down Main Street of every major
city in the U.S. The spectators will come dressed in bright orange tee shirts
with "Lottery Loser" handwritten in black marker across the front.
The floats will be decorated with neatly folded losing lottery tickets and
tissues stuffed into chicken wire formed into the shape of big fat zeros and
giant iconic thumbs down symbols. From the windows of the buildings lining the
parade path, Losers (with a capital L, of course) will float their unlucky
lottery tickets, some folded into paper airplanes, some diced into confetti,
some wadded into tight balls and showing signs of stomped footprints.
Okay, America. Let today be the official first Losers’ Day celebration. I’ll get the party started by going to my
balcony and shouting out across the neighborhood our signature Loser’s chant: “L-O-S-E-R! I’m a capital L Loser!”
Come on everyone, join in!