Twenty-two Cents

That's where I'm at. 22 cents. Under the new rules.

I do not like or believe in the lottery. It is an opiate for the masses. And I feel, with the ever widening gap between the rich and the poor, it is almost immoral. But, perhaps, understandable. For the period of time between purchasing the ticket and loosing, someone who could not afford a vacation can fantasize about owning a beach house in Tahiti. A car can be paid for and a dentist visit made. Which is why the lottery is a drug. Instead of protesting wages, work conditions, lack of job secuity, or lack of health care benifits, anger is effectively disapated by a flimsy slip of paper. Better luck next time.
Proponents of the lottery look at what the proceeds pay for. But its a regressive tax, folks. Who buys those tickets to dream? Predominatelly the underfunded.

But. One must do something, mustn't one? To be a responsible member of this society, one should do retirement planning and... (well, health care insurance is practically a nonsequitor). Hence the 22 cents. Given my attitude towards the lottery I shouldn't, in old-fashioned face-the-myself mirror mode, buy a lottery ticket. However, in a politician-like finesse, there is always the change on the street.