My family has deep roots in Michigan, from the frigid locks of Sault Ste. Marie to the college-town ambience of Kalamazoo. But ultimately, my parents left Michigan and eventually the Midwest in search of jobs. Jobs found in the “right-to-work” state of Arizona.

So, you didn't win last week's Powerball? I didn't either, which is why I'm writing blog posts instead of designing a helipad for my new private island.  I was surprised to see even my most cynical friends succumbing to lottery fever in a bad way. Though usually shrewd with their finances, they couldn't resist throwing a few bucks at a gas station attendant for that infinitesimal shot at half a billion dollars.

Doris “Dorie” Miller was a Mess Attendant working on the USS West Virginia. Like most mornings, he rose before dawn for a dreary day of hauling trash, scrubbing dishes and prepping food for the battleship’s cook. While collecting the crew’s laundry, the General Quarters alarm sounded. Ships have drills all the time — even on Sunday mornings — but a sailor still must answer the call.

I’m trying to help a relative get out of a bad fix.He makes $50,000 a year, but Sam has $54,000 (!) of debt on his credit cards. Worse still, he just showed us plans for a $7,500 cruise next year. “Don’t sweat it,” he said, “I still have room on my Visa!” Crazy, right?