Winning the Lottery

There is a joke we often refer to in our family: A religious Jew named Moishy goes to the synagogue every morning for daily prayers and (except for the Sabbath, we assume); every day he prays "Hashem, please let me win the lottery." For years and years, this is his daily plea -- "Hashem, please let me win the lottery." Finally, after many years, Moishy gets an answer. He hears a voice say, "Moishy, meet me halfway. Buy a ticket."

I wish I could say that I wrote this after I bought a ticket for the recent enormous lottery jackpot and before I found out whether I had Won The Lottery. During that period, there is a sort of delicious anticipation -- knowing full well that the odds are against you, you still speculate on what you would do with (in this case) 500 or 600 million dollars. Or more, or less.  Alas, my husband has checked my ticket already and found out that neither his ticket nor mine won so much as a free ticket for a future drawing.

We have been in the "what if" situation so many times, however, that we have pretty clear-cut ideas of what we would do with the money. To make a long story short (the longer version is presented later) -- we could do So Much Good with that money. Instead, we have to do what good we can with the lesser means available to us.

But our plan -- should we ever win the lottery after having met God halfway -- is to give back by establishing a charitable trust. Half the winnings, or any amount over $5 million -- whichever amount is greater -- would go to the charitable trust. The trust would, in turn, disburse money to non-profit organizations in three major categories -- animal welfare, environmental causes, and Jewish organizations.

Animal welfare has long been a concern of mine. I worked in animal rescue long before I had even heard that term. I am aware of the excellent and often heart-breaking work being done to help animals around the world. There are lots of possibilities there -- sponsoring low-cost or free spay/neuter clinics, helping homeless people or the elderly keep their companion animals with them, preserving wild animal habitats, education programs. Many of these programs are already in place, so it would often just be a matter of providing funds to help organizations continue the good work that they are already doing.

The same can be said of environmental causes. There are already some good organizations doing good work. Our trust could help them continue programs that are already in place and possibly develop new programs.

Animals and the environment aside, we've probably spent the most time thinking about how we could usefully distribute money to Jewish causes. Many organizations are doing good things. But, to be painfully honest, I'm not always impressed by the work accomplished by Jewish organizations.

When we first moved to our current city, we joined a local synagogue. It didn't take long to realize that this congregation was struggling both financially and in other ways. To keep our own children involved in Jewish life, we had to keep them involved with Jewish youth groups on a regional level -- and the wellspring of regional Jewish youth life was a couple of states away. Over the years, we spent thousands of dollars transporting our children to regional youth group events. I became the local youth group director and helped raise thousands more dollars to send other local teenagers to regional programs. So naturally, back in those days, when we thought about how to spend the millions of dollars we were inevitably going to win in the lottery, we figured we would make a big contribution to our synagogue to help with their financial problems and to create an ongoing source of funding for teenagers to travel to regional youth group events.

The world turned and times changed. We became more and more convinced that the biggest problem isolated synagogues face is education. The best and brightest rabbis and Jewish educators don't have much incentive to leave the large Jewish communities on the coasts and come to the Galut, the wilderness. What Jewish children learn in religious schools in the suburbs of Boston or Los Angeles is quite different from what Jewish children learn in Henderson NV or Carlineville IL. And with so many other demands on family time, Jewish education and participation in Jewish youth groups is often not the highest priority for families.

Our first thought was to develop (or to pay others to develop) Jewish educational materials that could be used in these smaller and more isolated communities, and to help synagogues by creating funds that could be used for teens to travel to their regional youth group events. The more thought we've given to this matter, the more we think that our charitable trust wouild do better to require that congregations and communities do at least part of the work -- or the fundraising -- on their own. Matching funds, perhaps? This is obviously an area that needs more thought, and I'd welcome the need to give it that thought.

And what about the rest of the money -- the money that we would keep for ourselves rather than putting into the charitable trust? In the days leading up to last night's drawing for a $640 million jackpot, the local and national news did a number of stories about how people would spend the money if they won. I heard things like "take my whole family -- and I mean everyone! -- on a long vacation" and "build a pool in my yard" and "retire and do nothing". We, too, want to spend some money on ourselves and our children.

First of all, we would pay off the mortgage on our house and move somewhere else. This community lost its charm for us long ago. But once we vacated our current home, we would probably donate it to Habitat for Humanity. It's a large house with an enormous yard in a nice neighborhood. I'm sure there's a deserving family out there who would appreciate living here, even though we don't.

We would probably replace some of our cars. My van is almost 11 years old and has over 160,000 miles on it. But it's paid for and the repairs to keep it running are considerably less than a new car payment, so I keep it. But -- and we've talked about this -- I wouldn't go out and buy some super-luxury car. As far as I'm concerned, a car is basic transportation and spending more than necessary on a car is just wasteful. All I need is something reliable. Since I could afford it after winning the lottery, I'd go for a car that is fuel-efficient or that utilizes alternative fuels. But don't look for the big expensive cars in our driveway.

We would also make sure that each of our four children could finish their education free of debt -- including the one who wants to go to veterinary school. If the jackpot were large enough that we could keep $5 million for personal use, we would probably have enough to help them buy their first houses and replace their current cars if necessary. And that's about it for them. I can't see smoothing all the obstacles in their lives. How else will they grow and learn?

It's funny to think about how much time we've spent over the years thinking about what we would do if we won the lottery. Yet I know very few people who haven't done the same thing. I guess we all like the idea of something for nothing -- or at least of a very big payoff for a very small investment. As my sister-in-law once said -- it's not a bad dream for a dollar.

Networking, Socially

It used to be that social networking meant talking to your co-workers in the break room, or having block parties, or even joining a group (e.g., religious, musical, political) that shared your interests. Today we are moving a lot of those functions to the internet. I am by no means opposed to online technologies. E-mail was my lifeline 15 years ago. It helped me find like-minded people during a time when I was feeling particularly isolated. Some of those people are now among my closest friends. But lately I have noticed a trend away from e-mail and toward social networking sites.

I belong to two "social networks" in the 21st-century sense -- Facebook and Ravelry. I spend more time looking at and responding to what my "friends" are posting on Facebook, but I honestly believe that Ravelry is the more useful of the two. Today I'm going to explore my ambivalence toward Facebook. I'll save my thoughts about Ravelry for some other time.

I have heard people describe Facebook as a real time waster, saying that they won't join Facebook because they don't have the time. To which I have always said "Huh?" But then I realized that, early on in my Facebook adventure, I turned off all notices about games and contests and almost every other sideline on Facebook. I never "like" a company or a movie or a business, even though I may like them very much. All I ever see is the status updates of the people I have as "friends". It takes me only a few minutes a day to look at what's new and to post any comments that occur to me. Sometimes I will post a status update of my own, but most of the time I just check on what other people are doing -- the social networker as voyeur.

My youngest son is fond of razzing me about Facebook, even though it was his contemporaries who asked me to get a Facebook account. They were in the process of college applications at the time and were concerned about reports that colleges would look at their profiles. They wanted to have an adult who was not their parent take a look and make sure that they had nothing inappropriate in their public profiles. So I did, and they didn't, and my association with Facebook probably would have ended there except that someone from my past found me there and sent me a friend request.

That first Facebook friend was someone I've stayed in touch with, off and on, over the years. We were friends in high school, although I was two years ahead of her. We roomed together one year in college. I knew her family; she knew mine. We corresponded regularly for a while after college and then drifted apart, though every now and again one of us would look up the other. We even got together a few times over the years when we ended up in the same city at the same time. So it was kind of cool to be in touch with her again. I accepted the friend request and read her status updates and occasionally posted something about my life. And that, I thought, was that.

But then other people started finding me on Facebook. They fell pretty much into four categories:

-- People I know and like, and I'll include family members in this category because I like almost all of them on any given day. Whether I know them in person or via online venues, I'm usually already in touch with these people. Facebook is just a little extra, not a primary means of communicating with this group of people.

-- People I knew at one time in my life. Some may have been friends, but many more of them were acquaintances, co-workers, friends of friends, or people I haven't given a thought to in years. One or two have been people I was really close to at some point in my life, and it's been nice to reconnect. But for the vast majority of these people, I have come to realize that there is a reason why we haven't stayed in touch with each other.

-- People I don't know or don't remember. These are mostly people from high school or college or one of my early jobs, others are friends of other friends. Whatever and whoever these people are, I don't really know them so why would I want to read about their lives, or have them read about mine?

-- People I know or have known in real life and have no desire to be friends with, online or in reality. Maybe I shouldn't admit that such a category exists, but it does.

It is these last two groups that pose the biggest problems for me. And it is these last two categories that illuminate my ambivalence toward the new social networking. I mostly ignore friend requests from these people, but it always feels a little awkward, especially as some of them are "friends" with other friends or with members of my family. My hope is that they think I'm too dumb to figure out how Facebook friending works.

My youngest son points out that "old fogies" like me who join Facebook tend to share too much, or at least write too much. He says that younger people, the ones for whom Facebook was originally designed, tend to be brief in their status updates and comments. I have to agree with him there. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing to write more, just that it seems to be a generational tendency. My generation, if you will, was an e-mail generation. For us, e-mail was a natural progression from writing letters and notes. E-mail lends itself to longer messages, more introspection, more digression. And it's faster than snail mail. Facebook is the invention of the TV and video game generation, those who were brought up on short bursts of information, often accompanied by color and movement and sound.

Perhaps Facebook should have remained a college and post-graduate phenomenon. My daughter says she misses some of the features Facebook sported before it went public, when it was only for college students. Though she understands why they were removed, they were a useful tool for her when she was still in college.

And perhaps the "old fogies" should continue to find their own ways to connect with the people who truly mean something to us. You know, like pick up the phone and call someone. But more on phones another day.

What's a CFS?

My father used to lament about the preponderance -- and sometimes the lack -- of CFS, or convenient flat surfaces. Being a product of his time, he was referring to table tops, counter space, book shelves, desk tops, and even floors. In other words, his view of a CFS was always horizontal and the CFS existed primarily so that things could be piled upon it.

However, it strikes me that in the 21st century, which my father unfortunately did not live to see, that our CFSes are also vertical -- not just walls and bulletin boards and refrigerator fronts, but also our computer screens. We clutter these things up, or make them spare and utilitarian, as suits our personalities.