“I want to be a billionaire so freakin’ bad”
No, money cannot buy happiness, at least not deep, long lasting happiness, but the term “financial freedom” is a term for a reason. It doesn’t just mean free from working, but free to be your truest self. At the time of beginning writing this, the Powerball jackpot was over $1 Billion. I asked you all what you would do with a billion dollars. I asked you anonymously because I wanted you all to be free to imagine wildly.
Yesternight, I was at a function with a lot of people richer than me. It was a charity event. The Daily Dispatch was there as a very silent partner. We don’t want the recognition, just the free drinks. Money doesn’t buy happiness, but apparently money doesn’t buy a personality either because, generous as they were, these people didn’t seem to have much of a sense of humor. They had a real auctioneer there. She did the whole “We’ve got eleven hundred dollars here, eleven hundred, can I get twelve hundred? Twelve. Looking for twelve…” routine. I laughed, they didn’t. They just bid.
If you had a billion dollars, what would you do? I asked the subscribers. Some of the answers I got were along the lines of “I’d invest” guys… you have a BILLION DOLLARS you aren’t running out. That well is deep my friend. Maybe money can buy you a better imagination.
I started this by quoting a song. MANY of your answers reminded me of a line from another song, “I got enemies, got a lot of enemies.” Multiple of you responded with answers indicating you would use your money for my demise. Things got personal. One example stood out among all the other threats you all levied. “(I would) Purchase a large parcel (10000+ Acres) of land in Northwest Canada that is not currently on fire and put a 10ft fence around the land so that wildlife could not leave the area. This would cause a sort of divergent evolution albeit not much would change in our lifetime because of the timeline generally associated with evolution. Once the construction was complete I would then host tournaments for the “Most Dangerous Game” much like the 1994 film “Surviving the Game” (Based of the 1924 short story by Richard Connell) featuring Ice-T. Except in this “game” the target would be whoever I, as the owner of the property, chose (1st target would be Seth Winton). The Target would have to survive in the harsh Canadian wilderness along with what I assume would be starving predators due to their prey likely dwindling over time. I also need to mention that there would be a large Cabelas style cabin on the property that would be the base of operations for the hunters. This facility would be secured and protected by Chechen mercenaries on my payroll. Eventually there would be a board of directors that would oversee the procurement of new targets for future hunts…” While I truly appreciate the creativity, I was concerned by how thought out this plan was. It led me to create a “If I Go Missing” binder. In it there is a Dunkin Donuts gift card so the police will take my case seriously. There are photos, names, social security numbers, and home addresses of all Daily Dispatch subscribers listed in the binder as well as the primary suspects. I don’t trust any of you based on your answers. I didn’t trust any of you to begin with, but this certainly didn’t help.
Do you think I’m scared? No. I’m smart. Right now, I’m killable. If I get the billion, all bets are off. I have a plan for my enemies. You all root for and scheme my demise. Originally, my plan was to buy a private island. You all know I have thoroughly researched this when we attempted to make our own country in Issue (?). I thought about building two resorts on that island. One right across the street from the other. One will operate as normal and eventually will pay for the island (even though money isn’t an issue). The other? You, my enemies, the ones who wrote of evil plans against me, will work at. You will run the resort as if at any moment an important guest will arrive. Nobody ever will. The rest of your lives will be anticipation followed by disappointment. It’s a slow burn of revenge. You all try to end my life, I thought about wasting yours. Do not test me.
That was my first plan. If I win the billion, my real plan kicks in. I will send my enemies cards on their birthdays with very sweet and personal messages. I will periodically pick up the tab when you’re at dinner with loved ones. I will send you wagyu steaks in frozen packages. I will make charitable donations in your name. Those you love will think the man you hate, me, is a saint. They will wonder how on earth you could plot against such a kind man and worry about you. You will hear my praises as your children receive a puppy from the benevolent uncle Seth they’ve never met. It will eat at you and gnaw at you from the inside out. I will be your worst enemy masquerading as your best friend. Enjoy the wedding I paid for. I will be a ghostly presence in all of the pictures as you know where that special day came from. You’re welcome.
A few of you said you would “Buy Daily Dispatch” and fire me/take over. “I would use my vast resources to infiltrate the Daily Dispatch and replace Seth Winton as the editor in chief/publisher by whatever means necessary. Somewhat of a hostile takeover for those that went to business school.” You think I like writing this? Do you really think I spend my valuable time on these because I want to make you happy? Do you believe a smile on your face is my ultimate goal? Grow up. I do this for the money. If you buy the Daily Dispatch, all that sweet cash goes straight to me, my wife, and my dog. Do it. I dare you. Speaking of buying things, I have been trying to sell this stupid newsletter to the Wall Street Journal for $250 million since, like, week 3. Long time subscribers know this. I got tired of waiting on them, so I bought the Wall Street Journal instead. If you can’t be bought by them, buy them (or something like that). I won a bidding war against the New York Times, the Peoria Gazette, and many other smaller news outlets.
A few of you had some good answers, but enough about y’all. What would I do?
First, and most importantly, I’m getting new teeth. I don’t like mine. I’m starting over. I’m talking walk straight from the lottery bank (or wherever you pick up the briefcases full of cash) and immediately into the nearest new teeth store. Fresh start.
Actually, what is probably the most important part of my plan if I win a billion dollars is I’m not telling anybody. I’m sure you will figure it out as the money slowly changes me over time into someone unrecognizable from the man I once was. One day I will stare into the mirror and wonder who is looking back. Is it still me? Am I still the man who, once in 2013, pulled up to the Wendy’s drive thru window and said, “I’ll pay for the person behind me too.”? Or have I fundamentally changed due to the money giving me a false sense of value to the world as if sweet sweet cash is an adequate stand in for genuine compassion and humility towards others? You will probably figure out I have some vast riches at some point, but it will be too late for any handouts. I don’t want the money to change you too. Think of me not giving you my lottery winnings as the truest gift of all.
One dead giveaway that I have money is when I DJ Khalid my way into the game. I’m going to get Swizz Beatz to make me a beat (around $150,000). I’m getting a feature verse from J. Cole ($400,000), Kendrick Lamar ($300,000), and Lil Wayne ($350,000). I’ll be the “Uh huh” or “You know what it is” guy. My song “Anotha Day Anotha Dispatch” by Seth “DD” Winton ft. J. Cole, Kendrick Lamar, and Lil Wayne will be #1 on the charts for a year minimum. It will only cost me around $1.2 Million. That’s pennies. Almost certain I’ll get that back in streaming residuals anyways. For around $15 million I could put out a whole album. I’ve got lines like, “Back again!” and “Dolla dolla bills y’all!” locked and loaded.
Next thing I’d do? Tailor everything. If you think I’m wearing anything straight off the rack again you’re out of your mind. Dillards, you’ve been good to me, but if you love something, let it go. I’m getting all sorts of custom clothing. I’m talking turtlenecks in every color and fabric you can imagine. A cashmere, leopard print turtleneck? Why not? Shoes made out of giant Jolly Ranchers? I’m gonna try. I’ll have every single New Balance 550 color. And my hat game? Immaculate. If you thought Harry Styles had some interesting outfits, just wait until I get my hands on a speedo made entirely of fish scales but lined with camel hair.
Ok, if I’m being honest, those first ideas are what society demands of me. Those ideas are what I know the people want to see. This one’s for me. I have road rage. Sorry for suddenly being so raw and vulnerable on a newsletter designed for levity, but it’s the truth and the truth will set you free. If I have a billion bucks, I’m going to do something about all the jerk drivers. If you cut me off, I’m ramming my car into yours. You thought your time was more important than everyone else’s? Guess whose day is now spent dealing with a wreck. I’ll leave all my information and have a helicopter come pick me up. I’m out of there and on to where I was going. The critics will say this isn’t a money thing. They will say I’ll lose my license if I am the cause of too many wrecks. If I get too close to that, I slip the cops a few thousand and guess whose fault the wreck is now… “You won’t believe it officer, this guy slammed into me going 70 miles an hour in reverse on the interstate!” If that doesn’t work and I get arrested for driving on a suspended license that’s ok. I recently just watched Shawshank Redemption so I know to bring a poster with me. I’ll get out of that mess in no time.
I want to take a moment to remind you all that these are just some of the things you can do with a billion dollars and one of you literally had “buy a Toyota Camry” on your list…
I’m not going to be a recluse. If you think ramming into bad drivers is the only self care item on my list, think again. Another huge part of my self care routine will be dealing with people who leave their carts out at the grocery store. I will buy so many shopping carts and you will begin seeing them/running into them wherever you go. Have you all seen the Godfather? You know that scene where the director wakes up with a horse head in his bead? That will be anyone I catch leaving their cart out but with a room full of carts.
I plan on creating a lot of petty enemies. Because of this, I need a disguise. The original idea was to commission an elaborate set of disguises a la Dana Carvey in The Master of Disguise, but then I can’t wear all my cool new clothes. So, instead, I’m hiring an army of doppelgangers. I will be hiding in plain sight. Watch the episode of Nathan For You where he hires a private investigator to follow him and you’ll get the picture. I put out an ad in the paper recently (in case I win the lottery now and need my doppelgangers asap) and already have a few applicants. They have listed their pictures below.
I crave victory. I always have. Whether it’s daily competing in the Wordle and mini crossword against my coworkers, or being the most clever on Quiplash every now and then, I want to be seen as smart. So, my next expense is bribing my way onto every gameshow I think I can win. I won’t bribe my way to victory, there is no honor in that, but I will spend whatever it takes to be there. Jeopardy, Family Feud, Wheel of Fortune, I’m coming for you. If push comes to shove and I’m getting crushed in Jeopardy, I may throw a million or two to the staff to make sure one of the round two categories is something I’d crush like “Athletes of the early 2000’s” or “Lines from the movie My Cousin Vinny”.
I thought about buying a sports team. Because of course I did. That would be the dream come true. Unfortunately, apparently $1 Billion isn’t even close to the amount of money I would need. Currently, the cheapest NFL franchise is still valued over $2 Billion. So I set my sights on the NBA. The cheapest looks to be valued around $1.6 Billion. I’m hopeless. There is no chance of me owning a franchise. Boo hoo. Poor pitiful Seth. I wanted to be “the man” so badly and own a team so I could bring my friends and families to games and show off the team. Wait a minute… “the man”… sports teams…. *Insert montage of me googling things. I could buy a WNBA team! Hold on a second… *Insert montage of me typing on my Texas Instruments TI-5100 calculator. Holy smokes… I can buy the entire WNBA. It is currently valued at $475 Million. That’s it. I’m doing that. I’m lowering the rim to 8.5 feet. We’re getting some dunks to this league STAT. There will be style points that slowly build throughout the game as players do cool things. If in the rare event they fill the Style Point Meter teams will get a GameBreaker in the spirit of the Street video games from my childhood. This allows them the services of an NBA bench player for 5 game minutes. It is essentially a free win unless the other team also gets a GameBreaker. In the event both teams simultaneously use their GameBreakers, the two bench players will play 1v1 for the overlapping time. The rims will remain at 8.5 feet. Each night there will be a raffle where fans can pay for a chance to play in the game. Any fan who attends 10 games in a row will have their raffle odds doubled. If you buy season tickets, and attend every home game, you get the option to send Brittney Griner back to Russia. However, if multiple people meet this criteria (doubtful) then it will be put to a vote. Also, I’m changing all the team names. They are boring right now.
I saved the best for last: New socks every day. Oh, and allow Niki to quit her job so we can travel the world together. While wearing new socks every day.
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Money won’t buy you happiness. Go for a walk. Tell someone you love them. Admit to the person you have a crush on that you have a crush on them. Ask them to go steady. Tell them money doesn’t buy happiness, but you’ll buy them the moon. I think that was in a movie. Shake someone’s hand and look them in the eye. Call your grandma. I don’t know y’all, it’s 7 AM on Friday and I’m still not done with this week’s issue. Figure it out. You’ve got another day on this Earth so make the most of it I guess.
All My Love,
Seth Winton
