Posted by
Scottie on Tuesday, April 03, 2007 10:42:35 PM
Be careful what you wish for; you just might get it!
In college I took an honor’s independent study course one summer. My advisor, a wise and patient mentor, designed a program tailor-made for me. This was no mean feat; at the time, I had decided I was going to be the next Danny Bonaduce, the next Alex Keeton, a money guru heretofore only imagined by mere mortals. I wanted to know everything about money, finance, taxes, and business. I had a rapacious appetite for anything to do with money. I read the Wall Street Journal every morning while sitting in a veritable fortress of magazines. Money, Fortune, CEO, and other financial periodicals littered my study area at home. I was intent on reaching for true financial greatness.
My assignment was: find and interview some lottery winners and write a ten-page essay with my findings. Yowza! I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I knew I was going to produce the feel-good story of the century. How could I fail to hit this one out of the park? I gladly accepted the assignment and we submitted the contract to the dean, who readily approved it. I was set for a summer of hobnobbing with people that had it made.
What I learned that summer absolutely destroyed my naiveté. I found people without exception that were isolated, suspicious, and so profoundly confused about their “good fortune” that I struggled to comprehend much less communicate what they were telling me. Just getting them to grant me an interview was unbelievably difficult. You see, when you win the lottery you become very popular with people “working an angle” as one winner, “Bill”, put it. Since this guy was typical of what I found, I’ll elaborate a little about “Bill”.
“Bill” had won over twelve million dollars about five years before I met him. In the intervening years, he had purchased a lovely home in the country, cars for his kids, and an awesome pickup truck for himself. His home was appointed with beautiful furniture, and his game room was to die for. A carved Brunswick pool table dominated a room complete with several pinball and video arcade machines, a soda fountain, a fully stocked bar, and matching leather furniture. I took a seat at the poker table across from “Bill” and we had a very enlightening chat for the next couple of hours.
“Bill”, it turned out, was a very lonely man. His wife had left him not long after the flood of money came along. The stress of the change in lifestyle; and the new possibilities now afforded her, had fundamentally changed their relationship. He had a certain fatalism about things as he reminisced. It seems that most of his former friends had also been corrupted by the change in his financial status. When he stopped buying things for them, they too seemed to fade away over the next year or so. He said they acted like they were entitled to a piece of the “good fortune” he had come into; but none of them wanted to, or could, help him deal with all the new problems having money had delivered.
He offered me this advice if I were ever “lucky” enough to win the ottery: “Disconnect your phone son; just yank it out of the wall. You won’t get any peace until you do.” He went on to tell me of the multitude of “investment advisors” and brokers and lawyers that called him at all hours of the day and night until he just unplugged it. He also said you had to have a heart of stone to turn down the endless pleas for assistance from kids needing operations, charities, and less scrupulous sorts of people. He had never had to deal with these things before and had been pretty badly burned a couple of times before he said he had just had enough of it. He hired a local lawyer that he knew from high school to handle his business affairs. He knew the guy was in over his head, but then he was over his head, too. So it all balanced out; almost. He couldn’t really be sure his high school buddy was a real friend or just a “money-friend.”
You see, “Bill” learned that money had solved all of the problems he ever had before he won the lottery. But it had also brought him a lot of problems he never could have anticipated. He was a farmer before he won. He was a simple man with a simple world-view that didn’t enjoy endless meetings about estate planning. He didn’t like having to make decisions about tax planning, or being hounded by those that wanted to “help” him all the time. He was tired of being sued by people that knew he hadn’t done anything to them, but also knew they would get some kind of settlement to go away. He wasn’t very impressed with many people he had to deal with these days.
“Money doesn’t make you anything more or less than what you were without it; but it sure does change the people around you. You don’t fit in with the old crowd anymore; and you sure don’t fit in with the new crowd. You wind up in a beautiful cage. Isn’t it ironic that we’re sitting at a poker table, but there haven’t been enough people in this house for a game of poker since I bought it?” I sat there thunderstruck by the words coming from this man. Maybe I had missed a few of the finer points about money.
My professor was duly impressed with my paper when I turned it in. She could have failed me and it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference to me at the time. I was so shell-shocked by my discoveries that summer; it took me a couple of years to digest all that I had learned. I eventually graduated (Magna cm Laude) with a degree in Accountancy, passed the uniform CPA exams and went out to apply the knowledge I had amassed. But I’ll never forget the lessons I learned that summer. Getting rich is a process and it sure isn’t for everybody. The jump forward in wealth from a lottery win is kind of like skipping high school and starting college with an eighth grade education. And while money has been central to my livelihood for a long time now, it is no longer an object of worship to me. I am grateful for a college professor that understood that reality, and took the opportunity to really teach me something of enduring value one summer, long ago.
Scottie