When that 1% lottery commission isn't enough

WBZ-TV did an excellent investigation on Lottery agents who tried to claim huge winnings for themselves.

What was the best scene? Watching the Lottery investigators swoop right in like a drug raid and take out the lottery machine and the lottery tickets. I can imagine the conversation going something like this:

"We had a sting operation not long ago. The undercover agent discovered you had illegally tried to dupe a customer out of their winnings. Effective immediately, we are removing your machine and taking back all of your scratch tickets and electronic forms. Step aside, sir. CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE? IF YOU HAVE ANY TICKETS IN YOUR HANDS, WE'D APPRECIATE YOU GIVING THEM TO THESE OFFICERS. THEY ARE NOT VALID."

The 1% commission in the title refers to the amount a lottery agent receives when they cash a ticket. If, in a book of instant tickets, a lottery agent pays out $726, they get a commission of $7.26. If you win $2.50 on a Keno ticket, the agent gets $0.025. If you win $250,000 on a winning MegaMillions ticket, the agent gets $2,500. Definitely not small change.

When an agent discovers they're not selling enough to get a decent commission, that's when they start to get shady and pull scams. The ones who do quite well with their commissions never try to pull such stunts as

giving you $100 for a $500 ticket

telling you a ticket is a losing ticket when it's actually worth a lot more

and

claiming the illicit winnings and then fleeing the country.

Meanwhile, how can you defend yourself in the first place? (OK, I might as well throw a bone to the finger-waggers who tell us the lottery is evil and preys on the poor. I guess these finger-waggers have no problem having the poor pay 60% taxes on cigarettes and being followed around at Whole Foods for potential shoplifting, right?)

1. If you should hit the Big One, SIGN THE BACK OF THE TICKET IMMEDIATELY.  This means the ticket is yours and yours alone - the "bearer instrument." If the corrupt agent tries to pass off the ticket and the signatures don't match, the Lottery will put up an immediate red flag. They also require positive ID - so if you're Ralph Malph and the ticket is signed Potsie Webber, not only will they not pay you, you have the additional chance of being arrested for forgery and uttering a false document.

2. MAKE A PHOTOCOPY OF THE WINNING TICKET. This means both sides of the ticket (including your signature) should be copied for your records. This will also protect you should the corrupt agent attempt to call you a liar and try to weasel you out of your winnings by stating your ticket "won nothing." Better yet: any ticket over $100 should be photocopied, but claimed at the local Lottery offices.

3. If you've won over $600, YOU MUST CLAIM YOUR WINNINGS AT THE LOTTERY OFFICES. NEVER have the agent scan the ticket at the store - they know exactly what "FILE CLAIM" on a lottery machine means. This is why on scratch tickets, there are random "losing" codes on tickets over $600. (With the two new tickets they've put out, they've doubled the losing codes from 12 to 24, and the new codes thwart players who look for just the codes by putting in really good imposters for the ones between $20 and $500.) Details from the Lottery website here.

4. If you happen to be the unlucky soul who gets $5 when they should have gotten $500, DON'T HESITATE TO CONTACT THE LOTTERY.   If you're ever in doubt, DON'T CASH IN THE TICKET. Don't hand it to the agent, don't let the agent intimidate or sweet-talk you into handing it over. This is a sign to leave the store and contact the Lottery - the best is to contact Lottery Headquarters here (scroll down to Lottery - the phone number to report agents or for general information is below) or, if you prefer email, contact the lottery at webmaster_at_masslottery_dot_com.  Judging by the speed and ferocity of this state agency, Lottery investigators don't take kindly to being cheated.

Many of the lottery agents I've dealt with are fantastic and they are honest. Just remember to be alert, and you should do just fine.

The land of NED - two different journeys

Kate Jackson of the Pointy Universe gives her take on Breast Cancer Awareness month for the Patriot Ledger.

One story I'd like to give Kate is one personal to me. There is one woman on my team at work that was diagnosed with BC in 2004-2005. She is in her late 50s and she went through the same thing. She didn't return to work for two years while she received treatments for breast cancer, but when she did return, it was certainly triumphant. I don't know the staging or extent - none of my business - but she was thrilled to return.

Compared to my father, who died from non-smoking related metastatic lung cancer in 2005, her return gave me hope. Cancer is a devastating diagnosis, but not the end of the world. If detected early enough, the land of NED is reachable (not exactly easy - you have to go through the gauntlet of chemo and radiation first - and that cancer is like the bad guy in The Warriors clinking his bottles and taunting them - "Warriors...come out and play-ay!").

My dad's cancer was detected because he had a nagging leg pain and the bone in his thigh snapped (femur). The day they did a nuclear bone scan did they discover the 3cm tumor in his lung that had metastized to his leg. Instant Stage IV - probably the toughest diagnosis one could get. Not an immediate death sentence, either, as we had him go through six regimens of chemo (Taxol and Cisplatin) and later on, radiation for his brain cancer to follow.

We too thought that a miracle would occur. We had a bottle of inexpensive champagne ready when the doctors would announce he was in that land of NED. Several times, I hoped for a miracle - that not only the tumor in his lung would be eradicated, he'd make a total recovery.

The land of NED, however, had a cruel deviation. When he died on November 22, he was certainly out of the land of constant pain, heavy-duty opiates, and hallucinations, and into a dry martini handed out by St. Peter himself. (Groucho Marx joke spoken by Bugs Bunny.) The day of his funeral, we did indeed drink that champagne we saved as a celebration, not as a goodbye.

To this day, I certainly miss my father. But I never mourned him - maybe cried a little bit, but never sat there and bemoaned his loss. That's because he never would have wanted pity or sadness. He reminds us that nothing is forever, and to make the best of what we have. You have to continue with your lives, even if there are times of loneliness and despair.

We love to use the word "sustainable" as if it were a magic wand, but human lives are impossible to sustain much beyond one's life expectancy. Sure, there are outliers - Willard Scott's bread and butter was announcing centarian's birthdays - but sometimes there are things we can't control, and giving up that control is never easy.

To say that cancer is impossible to beat, however, lies in how willing we are to find its cure. Once it is, all those people, including those with lung cancer, will automatically shift into the land of NED.

Two types of nasty

A. When travelling to New York and purchasing scratch tickets (I collect them from different states), the man behind the counter counted them as $13, while I counted them as $11. Honest mistake - until the megasuperbitch of a district manager snarled at her co-worker to show the cashier how to rectify his mistake. The mistake was corrected, but if you're ever at the Faber in Darien, CT, avoid spending your money there until they get managers who treat their employees and customers with fairness - they don't have to be nice all the time, just not being super surly and nasty.

B. We arrived at the Wooster St Pizzeria in Wallingford, CT around 10 last night for a late repast. We thought the place was open until 11pm, but the manager, who really was a nice woman, said to us, "Oh, the sign says we're open until 11, but we sent everyone else home...we would be glad to make a pizza for you, but we can't. Sorry..." Meanwhile, her staff was watching ESPN, and we headed to the Athenian II diner in Middletown, CT for a much better repast.

The difference between A and B? At least the manager in B was sincere, even though it was a pat, well-prepared answer that I found creepily unnerving. The manager in A? Where did she learn her managerial skills? Leona Helmsley? I will say this much - I'll never step foot in a Faber Travel Shop on I-95 ever again.