Jan. - Feb. 2011
January 2011 Lessons from a Friend: John O'Connor I never told anyone, including a good friend of mine, that I planned to quit smoking back when I made that decision. Apparently, for most people undertaking a major lifestyle change includes announcements and pronouncements. Quitting smoking is a big decision, with certain impact on lifestyle. Thanks to a good friend, the announcement of my quitting never came from me. A little information about John O’Connor makes this uncharacteristic reticence inevitable. John O’Connor, a native of Portsmouth, Ohio, (and a fanatic Ohio State fan) often became bored when a friend told him that he plans to quit smoking, about plans to go on a diet by eating less than 50% of the normal intake, and included plans to start jogging. “Why does somebody keep telling all his friends he plans to quit smoking, giving a litany and detail of his plan on how he wants to do it,” O’Connor grumbled? Even after such a friend started a stage of quitting smoking, he continued to keep O’Connor apprised of his progress. “It’s two weeks,” the friend told O’Connor. Then it was a month—every month he called to remind O’Connor, who could not adjust to receiving this progress report but never became overtly upset, despite, I assume, an unspoken irritation. When I decided to quit smoking in June 1995, I recalled O’Connor’s criticism of the habit of sharing such topics. But quitting smoking marks a significant life event, and I noted my personal landmark of quitting on a summer day at 2:52 p.m., the exact time I got out of the Army years earlier, on June 6, 1956. This military event connects to O’Connor, who spent the fall of 1954 in a B-54 at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Our battery commander graduated from West Point in 1949, and looked like a West Point caricature. The only other officer on site came from Georgetown; he liked to get on O’Connor at every opportunity. O’Connor stayed within bounds while demonstrating quick wit. Once during an inspection, the second lieutenant looked at O’Connor’s bed and barked the predictable, “Whose mess is this?” “Mine, sir,” O’Connor s aid. “I should have known.” O’Connor quickly replied, “Then, sir, why do you ask?” “What are you trying to pull?” O’Connor again replied quickly “Oh, about two years, sir.” People apparently enjoy announcing they plan to go on a diet and often enhance the resolution and revelation with their intent to jog every day, if possible. For some reason, friends want to tell the world about their plans to watch calories and sweat while pounding the pavement. This delivery of this pronouncement carries importance akin to The Sermon on the Mount or the Twenty-Third Psalm. O’Connor didn’t let this observation of human nature pass: once shared, the resolution became fair game for his disparaging wit. “People call you to announce all the details,” O’Connor unhappily explained. They give updates every week, indicating how many pounds they lost. “If they don’t let you know, it’s safe to assume they cheated or quit the diet.” Today’s TV infomercials make losing weight sound easy and even exciting. The reality is that quitting smoking, losing weight, and exercising often result in boring conversation. Anybody who undertakes these challenges says the same thing millions of people said in previous centuries. Few other topics cause as many people to want to escape the conversation or turn to another subject, even politics. New Year resolutions are another similar category of painfully useless earfuls. Most people break most of their resolutions by January Fourth, if not sooner. Maybe the problem, however, simply lies in the paucity of things to talk about. Nobody writes letters any longer. Letter writing requires discipline to focus on developing a thoughtful sentence. The ubiquity of cell and smart phones, computer messaging and emails all hasten the decimation of letter-writing. The biggest problem with email is that more and more people no longer know how to write a formal sentence. And if they do, a good chance exists that an error in grammar pops up. I’m convinced that 90% of the country fail in knowing when to use “fewer” or “less” correctly. As for “lie” and “lay,” I need a crib sheet. This decline in articulation evidences itself in one of my favorite peeves: local news. The way local news presents coverage, each year the viewer can predict headlines for that year. This all bothers me. Every Thanksgiving week, we hear a declaration that Wednesday proves itself as the busiest day of the year for the airlines. And two days later, there’s Black Friday… The mall rush for the biggest bargains as unlocked doors mark store openings at 6:00 a.m. The field reporters at the Post Offices late in the day on April 15 became a favorite staple of local news years ago. As for my goal of quitting smoking: it resulted in a complete victory. When I worked in a drugstore in 1945, I recall a pack cost seventeen cents (yes, 17¢). Today, the cost of a pack of cigarettes compares to airline baggage fees, and a weekly cigarette habit can set you back as much as Super Bowl tickets. Even without health in the equation, savings on breaking that habit are worth broadcasting. O’Connor died a year before I quit. Even if he were alive, I never would tell him. Tempted with the possibility, I hear him saying, “Don’t tell me about it.” However, I still hope he knows…somehow. #####
© 2011 by Beano Cook
February 1, 2011
Powerballing Through the Pain of Local News
The inspiration for the greedy state legislatures to get into the lottery business is apparent to me. Illegal numbers rackets are widely known. The wise guys based a daily number on certain digits from the NY Stock Exchange closing numbers. Why should only the wise guys profit? The legislators apparently felt they deserved to benefit from the sin of gambling, too. Avoiding obvious similarity, Pennsylvania based its lottery number on a drawing of numbered ping pong balls. That drawing takes place around dinner time. The bad guys loved it because nobody needs to wait for the morning paper for their number to become known. Numbers are drawn earlier in the day, so the bad guys changed to use the ping pong ball numbers, too. Eventually, some states held a drawing early in the afternoon, adding a second set of daily drawings. This gambling was so popular and profitable that it was decided to hold these drawings every day of the year. Those who piously boast to protect our tax dollars dream up more ways to increase the course of institutionalized and legitimized gambling. In Pennsylvania, legislation to legalize riverboat gambling faced a certain veto from then Governor Robert Casey back in 1991. It is now up and running. Are brothels that far away? The only lottery attractive to my gambling urge remains the enticement of the Powerball drawing. Two dollars a week and no calories from fat makes this treat more fun and less harmful than a big candy bar. The Powerball drawing takes place before the 11:00 p.m. news in Pittsburgh on WTAE-TV. At least the previous broadcaster, KDKA-TV, felt compassion for the player and televised the winning Powerball numbers at 10:58 p.m. In most cities, the six pong-pong drawings are broadcast live. Not in Pittsburgh. The citizens must suffer through several stories and the weather before getting the six numbers. Maybe winning $100Million consoles one who sits through the news and wins. The rest of us wonder what size winnings would be a fair price for the mental suffering from local news. Many systems of number-picking can be devised. Some systems take your first pick and “condense” the remaining combinations. Some analyze historic trends and give results—not predictions—as a short list of combinations. Some analyze recent winning results instead of historic. The more scientific might use one that categorizes numbers by various classifications, such as odd-even, high-low, sums, roots, pairs, and much more complicated scenarios. I’d be willing to bet that using systems leads to more multiple bet plays, but no increase in winners. No system exists to actually winning any lottery. Maybe someone will analyze whether using a system to pick numbers, just playing personal favorites, or chance selection results in the most winners. According to the multi-state lottery association that runs the Powerball, about 70-80% of tickets are randomly chosen by the computer, and 70-80% of winners use the computer-generated numbers. That shows only that you have to play to win, no matter how you play. The writer for same association notes, with dry humor, there is a system to winning $3 in “dual-drum games” such as Powerball. Since Powerball pays a prize for matching just one number from the 39 balls in the second drum, “if you buy 39 tickets with a powerplay, each with unique red Powerball number, then you are 100% guaranteed to win a $3 prize.” Of course, you spend $78 in tickets to get that guarantee of $3. Thanks for the tip. Meanwhile, my single weekly Powerball ticket numbers consist of college football players who won the Heisman Trophy. I never would have played #2 in any game, but Auburn’s Cam Newton, winner of the 2010 Heisman Trophy, changed that. I also love #24, the number of Iowa’s Nile Kinnich, who was killed while serving as a US Navy aviator in WWII. One time I got the first two numbers, then saw my dreams dashed quickly as the remaining numbers got pulled without a match. What provides me some great satisfaction comes along when a group of workers win the jackpot. Say a bunch of guys in Nebraska win. That’s perfect in my opinion. As far as I’m concerned, only three reasons exist to possess lots of money: 1—to take care of your loved ones; 2—so you never need to sob, “I need the job”; and 3—so you never have to take the middle seat when flying coach class. When it occurs, the third reason seems the most important. If you hit the Powerball, you get a choice: take a lump sum or take the annual amount for the duration of the annuity. Approaching 80, as I am, the logical choice seems simple: take a lump sum. Not me. Even in the grave, I want that annual check to go to a charity. In that way, the IRS and the greedy politicians in Harrisburg and Washington get nothing. I still will have submitted myself to the torture of all that local news on WTAE-TV. I deserve every cent. Anyway, the money goes to worthy charities instead of greedy politicians. I must go now. The drawing begins momentarily – but after the weather. Remember, I’ve sat through local news—so haven’t I suffered enough? #### © Beano Cook 2010 ##### © 2010 by Beano Cook
My state, Pennsylvania, pays 500-1. The bookies still pay 600-1 (from back in the 1920s when neighborhood number-runners paid out on penny bets and allowed betting on credit). Now if you win $1,000 or more from the state lottery, you receive an IRS-1099 form. The IRS wants its share. The bookies never bother their customers with any such paperwork.
Local TV news fights for the honor, at a price, to televise the drawings. If most of these stations had to decide to give up either great journalism or hosting the daily drawing, without hesitation, they take the former.
I also believe in a limit for the lottery jackpot. Say the jackpot hits $400 million. Hold five drawings, one for $200 million and four for $50 Million each. This makes the drawings more interesting and maybe appeals to more players. Some legislators will probably give more priority to lottery issues than to immigration laws, healthcare, or job creation. And that legislation is a lot safer bet for the politician come re-election time.
