My Lotto wishlist ... at least dreams are free

I was sitting outside the Bethlehem Lotto shop recently when a regal looking kuia and her sweet little mokopuna came walking out hand in hand toward me.
The little princess held on to her Nanny with one hand. In the other she clutched a Lotto ticket with an expression that said life is beautiful and at 8 o'clock tonight its going to get a whole lot better.
It got me thinking about what are the $2 dreams of little children, of the poor and the old that may think life's luxuries have left them little hope but Lotto.
I visualised the little princess sitting around the whanau kitchen table with the $2 ticket, asking each member what their $2 dream was as we did in the good old days of the Golden Kiwi.
In the middle of the table would be fish'n' chips piled higher than the wood chip pile on the wharf, two bottles of Watties full strength train smash to baptise the battered snarlers in, three loaves of Mrs Parnwell's beauty bread, buttered both sides by virtue of being piled on top of one another, and a couple of two-gallon Tupperware containers rippling with raspberry-flavoured cordial. Now that's a feed fit for a whanau of 11 kids and a couple of overseers.
What we wanted then and what that little princess wants now is pretty much the same thing and that's to be safe, loved and happy. So what's changed? Not a lot, other than water is the same price as petrol per litre at the bowser and governments are governed by Noddy and Big Ears, or locally between the egotistical and the eager testicle.
So what is my wish list if I got the lot on Lotto night?
Firstly, I'd buy that Zambuck driver who piggybacked that poor old battler to the movies every week for eight years from the Tauranga Hospital, where he lived most of his life, the biggest, baddest home entertainment system so he to could enjoy movies for the rest of his life.
Second, I would hold ``The Awhi Angels'' Ball for all of our nurses and doctors and fireman and police and school teachers and any other JMC coach and good bugger who does the hard yards for others.
Build a boy racer hill climb drag strip somewhere in downtown Mayor Island so they could boom boom, brrmmm brrmmm all night long.
Shout AE Symons an all expenses paid trip to Soweto, as long as he takes his time and packs his Bro Mr Salt in his suitcase.
Sponsor Canadian education expert Mary Maughan to teach all of our schools her amazing Roots of Empathy emotional literacy programme that she launched in Auckland this week. Appoint and pay for Jane Theobald to become the race relations conciliator for Tauranga because never have I read such a balanced and beautiful piece of prose as the recent letter on her $2 dream of a better life for all of us here in Tauranga Moana.
And, if there was a little bit left over, I would buy a flash as, fully decked out, lowered with fat feet and fluros people mover for all of our kaumatua to be chauffeured around in comfort and deserved dignity, with a koha for benzene and Bobby Palmer's fish'n' chips.
Now that would be a cool ride to show up at the next boy racer rev em up, huh? All we need is the mighty man and mouth of the Moana, Stevie Wonderman Pearson to drive the low rider and she's game, set and down the hatch.
And if there was still a few bob left after our kaumatua had all kitted themselves out with starter gears and bling bling bracelets, then there is a special little waka parked up in the estuary as you go over the causeway bridge opposite the dump factory on the way to Otumoetai that has a ``for sale'' sign on it.
She's a real doozey and as soon as that little princess's ticket comes in so will my boat _ and I will be down to lay down some dollars and sail you out into the sunset of life.
``You may say that I'm a dreamer but I'm not the only one''.
Don't forget the national primary school kapahaka champs on at Blue Chip Tomorrow and Wednesday _ everyone's a winner and everyone's welcome.
Pai marire.