Life’s a Gamble and then…

“Raised their prices again. Something about supply and demand, flour and eggs, the weather and rutabaga’s-blah, blah, blah” a moldy old man grumbled as he exited the bakery with just a small lump, no larger than a dinner roll, rolling around at the bottom of a large sewn-cloth bad.

Dumb luck and percentages. Odds either are or they are not, for or against us. That’s the bottom line of health and wealth, success, and failure, life and death.

Despite the common assumption that most of the math we learn is useless, Barnett often utilized the probability theories he had learned in high school. Based on his calculations he would most certainly win the lottery this week.

“Good luck,” the clerk recited in her tin-cheery tone as she handed him the printed fortune from the happy little lottery machine chirping behind the counter.

Gambling is all about the adrenaline rush, a suspension of (dis)belief, like falling without impact. The adrenaline gush that floats between success and failure dwells in the ‘not knowing’ stage, occurs in the state of blissful ignorance, creates a happy place that allows all outcomes to be true. Just like Schrodinger’s shy cat, Barnett felt both alive and dead after spending the rest of his paycheck (after rent of course) on the Tetra Millions™ Lottery whose jackpot had peaked to $683 million dollars, enough money to retire his troubles -for-ever. While at the convenience store, Barnett also bought five chocolate bars, he felt confident that these indulgences were just beginning of the sweet life. With the shiny orange creamsicle receipt paper tucked in his front pocket, he felt invincible and still poor as he entered his tired home where his tired wife and hungry three school-age children were not eagerly awaiting his homecoming.

The lottery drawing the next night, Barnett's payday was in two days. No further planning was necessary for Barnett.

Paycheck to paycheck was not how the Slivers lived, it was more like loaf to loaf, bill to bill. Now an expert at juggling promises, Barnett could never get ahead financially even with Bernie working the night shift in the bakery. Winning the lottery seemed a reasonable and probable solution to their money troubles. And, after playing his lottery numbers diligently every week (in secrecy) for the past decade, Barnett felt more than probably the biggest jackpot check-in Tetra Millions history bore his family's name. He would become a hero to his family, finally, the king of his shack. The first major purchase must be a proper castle.

“Barnie, will you take a look at the mail on the counter,” Bertie said to him as he came through the front door. Among the colorful bills; yellow, orange and red, a crisp white handwritten letter sat addressed to him. The envelope read Private & Confidential! URGENT!! The return address read: From the Offices of Lowery, Boomson, and Foresight MD’s or some such important looking titles. He casually opened the tri-folded letter and read-silently, coughing at the end before folding it back up.

“Well,-?”

“Bert honey,” Barnett placed the rectangle paper turned into an origami square deep in his pants pocket. “Why don’t we take tomorrow off work and school and all of us-together-have a family day?”

“What?! Are you crazy?! Did you bring home any bread today?”

“They raised their prices again at the bakery. But the rent is paid. We should live a little Bert.” Barnett sauntered amorously over to Bertie leaning on the rim of the kitchen sink. “I have something better than bread! I bought us all chocolates for dessert!”

“What has gotten into you!? Chocolate?! What did that letter say?”

The rent had not been paid. The bakery did raise their prices. Chocolate was not better than bread. The letter was sent from Barnett's doctor informing him of an infection discovered at his last routine checkup. It was terminal and incurable, aggressive blood disorder called deteriorating serendipitous avaricium. Worse, the letter stated he should expect no more than 5 days to live. The letter sat sealed in the mailbox for three days.

“It said, Congratulations on your Big Promotion!”

The whole family spent the entire next day celebrating Barnett’s raise in ignorant bliss. They toured the countryside on bicycles, enjoyed a picnic under a sycamore, did some fishing, swimming, and laughed themselves to tears more than once. The family forgot about all the things they did not have, they immediately felt wealthy, as if they had won the lottery.

The Lucky Barnie’s Bakery and Chocolatier opened later that same year where shoppers could get day-old bread for free and “a FREE bar of chocolate with EVERY loaf purchased”. Barnett’s great-great-grandson Barry now owns and operates the bakery and even though he is considered filthy rich, he works every day. A humble and generous man, Barry gives away more bread than he sells, he said it is the secret to his family’s rising status. He threw in this story for free since I don’t like chocolate.

Painting by Pieter Aertsen, The Pancake Bakery, 1560 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.