Happy Labor Day. In the past I’d have followed that with some wonderful tale of all those who labor to keep our cities, in fact our entire country going without needing parades or even particularly expecting recognition. First responders yes, military yes, but also hospital workers, flight attendants, television and radio presenters, even gas station, convenience store, and fast-food restaurant employees. All the people who are there for you when you drive home from the parades, or the semi-annual paint and appliance sales at the mega-marts (the other half of the semi-annual sales held on Memorial Day, naturally).
But not this year. This year I’m going to celebrate the PowerBall. It’s up to $1.1 billion and will continue to grow until the drawing at 11:00 EDT tonight. Just think of all the laboring you could get out of if you have that single winning ticket. You could fund yourself the company of poor South African draft dodger immigrants who stole the idea for electronic fund transfer and electric cars on your way to financing the biggest oaf to ever pave over a rose garden. You might be one proposal away from treating yourself to the most lavish wedding since those of Henry VIII while reducing the wages of those passing the hors d’oeuvres on solid platinum trays to your guests, mere millionaires who grovel at your feet.
Yes, with the fortuitous bounces of six ping pong balls, you could be on TV expounding how we’re all going to die someday but not you because you can now afford healthcare. You don’t have to care about gun laws because you can surround yourself with armed lackies to protect you and your ears from violence. You don’t have to worry about living alone and wondering where your next meal will come from because people will line up to be part of your inner circle where they all tell you how fortunate the world is that you are you, and of course they’ll happily pick up a quarter pounder for you for the promise that you will gladly pay them back on Tuesday for a hamburger today.
Yes, I could celebrate Labor Day, but I’d much rather hope I too can become America’s newest billionaire and take pride in the new deduction awarded me on the purchase of my own airplane and look down upon the worker bees, aka the former backbone of this country.
I could also stop and ask why are we celebrating anything when we’ve just experienced 44th school shooting (and 502nd mass shooting) of 2025? But then I remembered the main mass media has already moved on from that and and our esteemed former drug addict now secretary of HHS has assured us if we can reduce the use of antidepressants in this country the school shootings will go down too.
So instead, I’m buying up all the Powerball tickets I can afford and hit that $1.1 billion jackpot. Maybe then I’ll be good enough for the orange menace and his band of thieves to take advice from when I tell them they really need to go hell. And soon.
The Real Reality Show Blog 
The reality is that, for the most part, those who win the lottery end up miserable, conflicted, and always wondering who their true friends are. I would never want the burden of that much money. Stuff and clutter are just that, and nobody needs more. Thanks for mentioning the irony of Labor Day, the end of summer, when school has begun, and that we’ve already had 44 school shootings this year. We’ve lost the value of seeing all people as worthy of life. We may disagree with them, but it’s not up to us to judge. I’m not commenting on your views on the orange menace, but I know how easy it is for me to be critical of others. I’m trying to remind myself to be kind. It’s never easy.
You always present a kind, compassionate view. I know it isn’t easy and I’ve fallen over the edge. I have to claw my way back to civilization. There is probably more of that left around here than meets the eye.
You haven’t fallen over the edge, my friend. You’re very passionate about what you know to be true. I value your insight. And I respect that you see things very differently from me, and that has a lot to do with our experience. You’re a really great guy!
Thank you. You are so kind
Michael, he never promised us a rose garden…such an ass he is! I’ve never cared much for gambling. Although, buying a few tickets and leaving them uncashed inside books might be fun. Or do they expire???? I know a gift card can. But, if I had a great deal of money, I’d send it to my vet son. He may be a Vet, but he’s got a potential serious surgery he’s scared to do. Vet hospitals are not well staffed with personnel or good physicians. And his house is one of those original money pits. Mr. Blandings couldn’t have done better!! Except the son was hoodwinked by the clueless realtor. Actually, the realtor and the son were hoodwinked by the sellers.
I don’t remember the last time i bought a lottery ticket. Probably when I was working and the while department would throw a couple bucks into a hat and buy a bunch of tickets. Never won much although I know two people who hit jackpots. Neither became the nightmares the reality TV show would lead you to believe every winner turns into. And tickets do expire. I think it’s one year.
And good luck to your son. I used to work in a VA long long time ago and the staff there was always top notch
Ah, the perfect snark for Labor Day. I love it, Michael!
Thank you Wynne. Maybe by the next holiday true celebration can be back on the menu.
Aaack! What is going on! I wondered where your posts were and I had to go and fetch this one! Sorry to be late to the “snark party” (I love Wynne’s comment below). Sheesh. I love good snark!
Hope you are doing well! Sending hugs! 🥰
Oh my. I wonder where I went! I hope you don’t lose tomorrow’s. It’s a good one 😃
Yay! Looking forward! Xo! 🥰