Rich ain’t what it used to be

Remember J. Paul Getty?

When I was growing up he was the richest man in the world. For years the Guinness Book pegged him as the world’s only billionaire.

Of course, if you picked the right six numbers last night, you’re richer than J. Paul Getty this morning. And if your luck holds tonight, you’ll be a whole lot richer tomorrow.

With folks vying for $1.6 billion in the MegaMillions lottery and better than $600 million up for grabs in the PowerBall game -- more than $2 billion riding on a dozen random ping-pong balls -- the world has truly come to be a strange place.

A billion dollars just ain’t what it used to be…

Call it inflation. Call it whatever… It sure is a lot harder to be rich now than when I was growing up. For those of us born with a dime-store stainless steel spoon in our mouths, millionaire was the highest imaginable inspirational income level. It was enough to move the Clampetts to Beverly Hills. It was a “cashier’s check for one million dollars” that John Beresford Tipton handed over to Michael Anthony to deliver to an unsuspecting somebody that opened every episode of  TV’s “The Millionaire.”

Not that sudden wealth was portrayed as an unalloyed good thing. For most of the fictional beneficiaries of Tipton’s largess life was less after their bank accounts held more and it was Granny Clampett’s oft declared intention to head back to the hills, leaving  mansion and cement pond behind with nary a glance at the rear view mirror.

Still, for most of us, the scriptwriter’s cautionaries were a poor match for the lure of easy money. Still, short of a bank heist, a long-lost rich uncle or an oil strike in the backyard, the sudden effortless acquisition of unimaginable wealth seemed pretty much out of reach.

Y’see, there was no government sponsored gambling back then. Back then they called it the “numbers game.” The mob ran it and it was against the law  -- as if that stopped people from playing. A big win back then was a couple thousand bucks, a nice return on a dollar bet, but not enough to put a fella into the Tiffany and truffles class. The official line was playing the numbers was a sucker’s game and it was the proper role of government to protect folks from their own greedy stupidity.

At least until it dawned on somebody that that stupidity could put a pile in the state treasury without jacking up the tax rate. A good deal for a guy whose job depends on winning a popular vote.

Suddenly Vegas had a competitor, and when it comes to fleecing the foolish, the agencies of the state put the mob to shame. Folks snapped up more than 280 million losing tickets for last Friday’s MegaMillions drawing – more than half a billion dollars down a rat hole —and the fact that they have nothing but a flimsy slip of paper to show for it won’t discourage most of them from heading out to do it all over again…and again…and again.

Yeah, we’ve all heard the argument, “You can’t win if you don’t play.” But with the odds of holding the winning ticket for both the MegaMillions and the Powerball at approximately 88 quadrillion (that’s 15 zeros, folks) to one, it’s probably safer to say, “If you don’t play, you can’t lose.”

Then again, for folks who feel they’re losing ground every day, a sucker’s bet can seem like the only chance to win. It’s hope for sale at two bucks a pop.

‘Except it’s not hope they’re selling, but false hope. Not a dream so much as a desperate gamble. It’s a two-buck wager to win the security that’s been so elusive and shows no sign of coming into reach. When it seems that one in 88 quadrillion are about the odds of having health insurance, being paid a living wage, a secure home, adequate food on the table and a shot at a decent, dignified retirement that lottery ticket looks like as close to the real deal as a guy’s gonna get.

Call it the new American Dream.