The Lucky Caller

By Jim Hagarty
2017

I am not much of a contest guy. I don’t buy lottery tickets or any other kind of tickets and I hate casinos. Games of chance leave me cold.

I especially can’t stand the silliness of calling into a radio show, hoping to be the special one who gets through and wins four tickets to the fall fair. And yet, I am aware that there are a lot of people who do just that. Maybe I am too lazy, but I just can’t get myself well organized enough to call the deejay and warble out my answer to the question of the hour.

So, that is my stand on radio contests and nothing will ever change my mind about that.

The other day, I met my neighbour out walking her dog, I was walking mine. We engaged in a little chit chat.

“Well, I just got back from picking up my cheque,” she said, out of the blue. “Oh no,” I immediately thought. “She’s been let go at work and went to get her final pay.” I felt sorry for her. I have been there and have felt the devastation of being tossed onto the trash heap.

“The cheque?” I asked, cautiously, not wanting to be too intrusive.

“Yes, my cheque from the radio contest I won through Radio 104,” she replied. “I was the 104th caller and got through, and then I had to give them a number to see if I got a bullseye. My niece shouted out a number, I gave that number to the radio station and I won.”

Well, I thought, that’s pretty cool. I was glad she was still employed and was sure she could use the couple hundred dollars she probably won.

“Do you mind me asking how much you won?” I said to her, nosily.

“Not at all,” she replied. “I won $10,100.”

Then she prattled on about the contest and how hard it was to be the 104th caller and how she was going to save the money for a special trip.

But I didn’t hear much of that. I was already planning my next day’s activities. Which involved a radio and my phone.

Radio contests are the best.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.