The other day I made a flippant remark to a comment on one of my posts. Some hours later it struck me that my response was, or could be taken as being quite uncalled for, and out of place; especially as it was in response to a blogger of the calibre of Pied Type, the epitome of ‘bloggers’.
Here’s a cut and paste.
Is there anything you haven’t done?
I’ve never bought a house or won the lottery
My apologies Susan that was very rude of me.
This facetious response to Pied Types comment, suggested the subject, for another ramble around the mulberry bush; why haven’t I ever bought a house, I’ll get to the lottery after I’ve fumbled my way through the first bit.
I have never been able to understand why it’s deemed necessary, to buy a house, and settle into it for the rest of your life, twice I’ve been in the throes of getting tied down for yonks, fortunately I’ve come to my senses before it was too late!
The first time was in 1967, my first marriage had broken down irrevocably 4 years earlier, and I was in a what can only be described as a tenuous relationship with an English girl that I met in Perth W.A. and I’m not getting into that now, another time perhaps.
The second time was in 1981; I’d sold the taxi in Cessnock and we’d moved back to Sydney, Kerry and I had two daughters; Sarah & Emma, by this stage; and we were expecting Amy in December, I had it all arranged for three daughters.
Because of financial constraints the only housing markets we could afford to look at were in the “Western Suburbs”, now Kerry had been a Northern Beaches girl all her life and there was no way she was going to become, and raise her children, as a “Westie”. Garrulous Gwen might explain why, if she reads this load of codswallop; she understands these things.
There was one really decent house that I’d probably have signed my life away for out west, it was full brick 3 bedrooms and had the attraction of a swimming pool. Not that the pool was any use to me, I’ve neve been able to swim, properly. I can sink very well. But I had every intention of seeing that our three daughters learned to swim at an early age. Kerry said no way, we’d rent on the “Beaches”! Who was I to argue? I much preferred that arrangement. Kerry wouldn’t; I’ll be glad when she gets elevated to the ministry!
I suppose the idea of owning a home on a block of land equates to a sense of security to many, but to me it never has. It has always struck me as being a rope tied around the neck, and though I’ve held Mr. Pierrepoint in high regard for as long as I can recall I have never wished to meet him professionally. I have never felt insecure or apprehensive about the future; ever ready to pack the bags and move on, even with a wife and 3 children.
So that takes care of that part! Except for one thing; when Amy arrived there was a mistake in the plumbing department, and we had to re-name her Nathan Sebastian,
Rarely do I buy lottery tickets; the War Office likes to buy them. When we first met I was in the habit of doing the “Pools”; for no other reason than I’d been questioned for not doing them. When I first lobbed into Sydney and met up with my Scot window cleaning chum, he was dumbfounded that his new English mate didn’t do the “Pools”; obviously there was something lacking in my education.
After explaining that I didn’t know the first thing about “soccer’’, except that I had watched the Hammers once play Cardiff back in the late 1940’s after the war, he explained that to play the pools here in Australia you didn’t need to know anything about the game; you just picked 6 numbers, which were allotted to six, couple of teams, playing that week somewhere in the United Kingdoms, and if those numbers came up you swept the “Pool”.
What could be easier? Anything for peace, I filled in a form, selected 6 numbers, and each week made my donation as I replayed these numbers. saved filling in a new card each week.
Later, when my relationship with Kerry started to develop along serious lines, I mentioned once that I had to stop and put my “Pools” in. She asked me why I bothered doing the pools, I told her it was a habit I’d developed with my mate Jock, and she informed me that I could never win on the pools because they were fixed.
Now how she’d know that was beyond me, but who was I to question her, after all she liked to have her little wagers on the ‘gee gee’s every Saturday, and usually was a winner. Mind you she only ever took place bets, never went for a win or each way, but she was a winner, and she’d got me hooked which proves the point. So I didn’t replay my bet that week, or ever again.
Pity really, just for the sheer hell of it, I’d decided to check the numbers that I’d been playing for some months to see how I would have gone. The six numbers came up that week, and the dividend paid was $432,000.00. A pair of brothers had the only winning ticket, and shared. Got $216,000.00 each. Had I have done one more week, they’d have got $108,000.00 each and I’d have had the other $216,000.00. How could a man ever forget?
So now I think “Why bother?” I had my chance and blew it!
The War Office on the other hand decided that winning a lottery was/is the “WTG”.
Don’t ask me how it works here. I haven’t got a clue, I do know that it’s best to be a registered player. I do know that whatever you win, whether $10.00 or $100 million, it’s ‘Tax Free”, and they send you a cheque through the mail. What could be easier.
It has always been my duty, whenever required, to fill out forms. Doesn’t matter what, they are pushed/shoved towards me with the instructions, “Fill this in!”. How can I argue?
When it came to filling out the form to register for the “Lottery”, naturally I put my name there on the top. Well I have to sign the form and I can’t sign “Kerry” can I? The reason as explained to me by TWO is that I have a better signature than she, so sign it!
A few months ago, the “Powerball” lottery was up around the $80 million mark, and as I was going to the Plaza, TWO suggested “Why don’t you buy yourself a lottery ticket for a change; you never know you might win something”; “Okay” says me, and I did buy a ticket, it was as an unregistered player of course as she has the only card.
On arrival back home I was asked “did you buy yourself a ticket on the Powerball”. I answered in the affirmative; I really don’t know why she insisted I buy a ticket, obviously if her ticket came up the cheque would arrive, addressed and payable to me, after all the original registration form is in my name, and signed by me; a little something she hasn’t woken up to as yet. I’ve always believed in the old adage “let sleeping dogs lie”; not calling TWO a dog for one second.
Her next question “What’ll you do if you win?”
“I’ll buy myself an Embraer Phenon 300!”
“ An aeroplane!”