Lottery Dreams in New Orleans

You know, it takes a great man to realize when the time is ripe and right to change the fundamental principles of his life.
I’m not talking about things like explaining my extensive ‘bald spot’ as a solar panel to my sexuality or my claim to women that I am actually a lesbian trapped in a man’s body. I’m talking, you know, fundamental principles like swearing allegiance to your after shave (Old Spice), hair tonic (Vitalis) and whether you want your toilet paper with the sheets rolling over or under (under, definitely UNDER)! Or even the big one, (thanks to Buddy Nordan) the drive to know the difference between good and evil and how to break into show business. I am speaking of what exactly I will do when I hit the Lottery.
True Lottery players never think in terms of ‘if’ they will hit the big one, only ‘when’. Hithertofore (I love that word) I was intrigued by thoughts lewd and lascivious, loud or lament-full, ludicrous or lucrative. I promised the Gods that I would be thankful and true, that I would help mankind and only use the dough for good. It hasn’t worked so far. I finally settled on a great umbrella outcome of my windfall: I would reward my friends and punish my enemies. This fundamental principle has been the guiding light of my eventual economical freedom. This too has not panned out… thus far.
Well, I’ve got a new one. I am going to open up one hundred bars; you know palaces of pleasure, institutions for imbibing, homes of hangovers (contracted and cured), altars dedicated to alcohol. But now, I am not thinking locally… I am dreaming globally. I am not thinking generic… I am dreaming specific. I want to give Pabst Blue Ribbon to the world!
Recently I was given a book by one of my students, the book is One Hundred Great Wonders Of The World. I thought that, as a goal, I should visit each and every one of these wonders, and, that I could do, easily, when I hit the Lottery (Powerball—whatever). Can do, will do; but, what in the name of God’s Balls (or as the English say “Od’s Bodkin) would I drink when I got there?
Okay, what I need is to be able to have my favorite drink (Pabst Blue Ribbon) available at each stop. Okay, suppose that I am a Gazillionaire or a Bazillionaire? Okay, I could have brewskis delivered where I wanted them. What about the rest of you?
Well hey, I got the bucks, why not open stands where you can tip back a cold one too (happy hour five to seven)?
So, Eiffel Tower is easy, likewise Yosemite, Grand Canyon and the Golden Gate Bridge. But how about The Great Fjords? How about The Nile River? How about Versailles? Mount Fuji? Angor Wat? You can bet your sweet Bippy that there no frosty mug at Stonehenge, Volcanic Iceland or Carargue! Forget about the Matterhorn and there’s no PBR on the Danube! And it’s no joke that you can die of thirst on the Sahara.
Listen to this: “Madagascar is an island of staggering biological diversity. When the island ripped away from Africa 165 million years ago, animals and plants continued to evolve without interference from outside” Consider visiting an island that is able to get away from a continent. Consider the people that you know that would chew their arm off to get free of that one night stand that they stupidly went home with…the coyote (much worse than an ordinary dog). Consider doing that, or visiting there without a cold one in a frosty mug. To me it’s plainly unthinkable.
Here’s other places that you’d not think of visiting without a beer handy: Giant’s Causeway, Edinburgh Castle, Versailles, The Grand Canal, Peter’s Basilica, Neuschwanstein, or Pamukkale. They scream for a great beer as a chaser. How about The Great Wall, The leaning Tower of Pisa, The Colosseseum or The Parthenon. Unimaginable without an icey cold PBR!
The mind reels with names such as: The Kremlin, Alhambra, The Temple Of Karnak, Mount Kilimanjaro, The Okavango Delta and Teotihuacan. My spellcheck has just had a meltdown.
Anyway, what I would do is fly in my private plane and view these wonders, have a cool one while my jets are cooling and, after dining locally, plan my next destination. I could do this until the whole hundred were seen. All the while I would be mapping out the list of a hundred more ‘Not Quite Ready For The Top One Hundred Wonder’ locations. Places like Dogpatch, Gasoline Alley, Abe’s Barbecue, The Shrine Of Donald Freeman’s Favorite Tweezers or the location of the world’s biggest crouton.
I’d like to visit an escargot ranch at roundup time, the place where they put them tiny stickers on tomatoes and a Survivor Island (where I would kick everybody off).
How about going to The North Pole to see if Santa is really there, tracking down The Easter Bunny (does he really live on Easter Island?) or going to the place where God’s final message to mankind is:
(“SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE”)?
Oh, the places we could see! The things that we could find out: what makes an elephant charge his tusk in the misty mist or the musty must, what makes a muskrat guard his musk, what makes a king out of a slave, what makes a flag to wave, what makes a Hottentot so hot and who put the ape in apricot? And: what do they got that we ain’t got? It certainly won’t be the good old dough ray me!
Who is we? Why it’s all my friends that will be along for the ride, laughin’ and a scratchin’ and a drinkin’ some beer!
What about my enemies? Why… we’ll send them postcards! Who knows what evil lives in the hearts of man? The Shadow do…Hahahahahahahah!