Upon my seeing that I had no winning Powerball numbers when they were announced Jan. 13, I was both relieved and crushed I didn’t win.
I really wanted that money to build my own Death Star from “Star Wars” (1977). I am not talking about the LEGO one, though the LEGO group did build one for their theme park in California last year using 500,000 plastic bricks and coming in at 1,500 pounds.
I was going to have my Death Star built in space at a cost of $852,000,000,000,000,000, according to a 2012 article on Forbes website. Granted, while that $1.3 billion I hoped to win would not cover the cost to build my evil metal moon fully operational with the thirty annual installments I was going to get the next thirty years, at least I would have the circular frame the size of our moon with that turbo laser built before ceasing construction.
I was going to have a battle station or the next best thing, the Playboy Mansion for $200 million, where I could live with Playboy magazine founder Hugh Hefner. The odds of me and "Hef" running into each other are the same chances one has to win the Powerball; one in 202 billion.
Those dreams, however, came to an end minutes before 10 p.m. on Jan. 13 when the numbers were announced and I’m glad.
Having won, even if the amounts had been $1 or $2 million, would have been nothing but a pain. I don’t want to do interviews with the press showing off a big cardboard check I was going to receive from the lottery commission in Austin. The last thing I need is to have my picture plastered all over the Internet and being interviewed by the morning news shows giving more than enough people the chance to extort me for money.
It would have been bad enough had I won. The minute I’d log into Facebook, I’d see 500 to 1,000-plus friend requests from my high school classes from ’85, ’86, ’87 and ’88, a majority of whom would be people I either never knew or never said “boo” to when I was in high school.
There is nothing to be gained whether you win or lose. If you lose, you get aggravated as your dreams of what you were wanting to do with that money are immediately crushed. If you win, you have to put up with how you intend to spend and/or save that money, once you’ve paid off all your debts, assuming you even plan to do that. If you don’t know how to manage your money to begin with, and a majority of people don’t, winning that Powerball will do nothing except probably make you go broke and bankrupt.
Then, if you suddenly become rich, what would you plan to do the rest of your life? Do you still work your 40-hour-a-week? You would no longer be stressed knowing that monthly paycheck is nothing more than chump change compared to the yearly Powerball check you just got.
Still, it would have been a nice dream to get my own Death Star built or buy the Playboy Mansion.
In the meantime, I’ll just settle for that ultimate collector set of the Death Star that LEGO will release for sale this May. I don’t need $862,000,000,000,000,000 to build a planet killer. I just need $400 bucks.
That was the line from the 1975 ballad, "Young Americans," by British rock star, David Bowie.
On the morning of Jan. 11, any fan familiar with the rock legend decades long music career since the 1970s whose flamboyant theatrics expanded into fashion and movies was probably recalling that same line when social media learned the “Starman” had passed away the night before, surrounded by family, following an 18 month long battle with cancer.
Young Americans wasn’t the only song I had playing in my head that day and on YouTube. Under Pressure, the 1981 collaboration between Bowie and lead Queen singer Freddie Mercury was another I couldn’t shake from memory. If Bowie hadn’t passed away, the only reason I was singing that song to myself was because those two words, “Under pressure” had to do with what I was dealing with at work that day.
“Every one of his distinct eras has memorable songs,” said fan Grant Stewart on social media. “Right now, I have "Starman", "Queen Bitch", and "Blue Jean" running through my head.”
“As a total 80's child, David Bowie's "Modern Love" is my favorite song of his,” wrote Laura Silva Davis on social media. “A few years ago, we were in the Sony/Columbia building in New York and he walked down the hall. I only saw the back of his head but I couldn't tell enough people that day that I saw David Bowie!”
Bowie’s most memorable movie roles were anything but the norm that included playing an alien in "The Man Who Fell to Earth" (1975) a vampire in director Tony Scott’s horror film, "The Hunger" (1983) and a singing Goblin King in Jim Henson’s fantasy, "Labyrinth" (1986).
“I get offered so many bad movies,” the actor said in 1983 according to IMDB.com. “And they’re all raging queens or transvestites or Martians.”
His role as Pontius Pilate in "The Last Temptation of Christ" (1988), along with director Martin Scorsese’s odd choices in choosing Willem Dafoe to play Jesus and Harvey Keitel as Judas, made the casting far more interesting than the unnecessary controversy the movie spawned.
Like Ms. Davis, I, too, was an “80s child” who grew up listening to the singer’s music. Unless you have a way to sneak a webcam into my house, however, you’ll never be able to prove you saw me dancing like Bowie did with the Rolling Stones’ Mick Jagger in their 1985 duet rendition of "Dancing in the Street" or with Tina Turner in that 1980’s commercial for Pepsi. You’ll never know if I own a pair of red dancing shoes to “dance the blues.” Just because I get to the “Church on time” does not keep me from leaving Sunday mass early during communion let alone “put my trust in God and man” as Bowie sang in the hits, "Let’s Dance" and "Modern Love." At least I still believe “we can be heroes, for just one day.”
“I once asked John Lennon what he thought of what I do,” Bowie once said decades ago. “He said, “It’s great, but it’s just rock and roll with lipstick on.”
Bowie, who was born David Jones, celebrated his 69th birthday Jan. 8 with the release of his final album, "Blackstar." For years the singer, like so many other celebrities, was the subject of Internet hoaxes claiming he had died. Sadly, on Jan. 10, to the shock of millions of fans, it became true. He leaves behind a second wife, supermodel Iman, daughter, Alexandria, from his second marriage, and son, Duncan, from his first.
We have no idea where “Major Tom” is today but I think it’s fair to assume he is amongst the stars tonight.
The one meme I saw on social media in the days since his death was a picture of him saying, “I don’t know where I’m going from here, but I promise it won’t be boring.”
Perhaps the “Starman” is checking out the red planet to find out if there really is “Life On Mars.” I know NASA is standing by waiting for the answer that will never come.
