The Eleven Millionaire

This is a 1955 episode of The Millionaire, featuring the philanthropy of John Beresford Tipton, 68 years before he began to finance The Gene Pool. .

Hello. Welcome to the Weekend Gene Pool, which the current Judeo-Christian God has anointed as the Chosen Newsletter. Today, as always, I will be trading entertainment for your stories and anecdotes.

Today’s entertainment involves the startling and unexpected reappearance of John Beresford Tipton, the official financial benefactor of The Gene Pool and its thousands of orgiastically enthusiastic participants.

Back in September, Mr. or Ms. Tipton — a pseudonym we chose based on a character from the cheesy 1950s TV show, “The Millionaire” — offered to anonymously finance four gift subscriptions to The Gene Pool, to be distributed among worthy recipients. He or she carried through on this promise. Last week, he or she offered to repeat his or her generosity for the upcoming holiday season, by gifting four more. And (and this is a big “and,” as you can see…)

…. the offer happens to coincide with a major milestone of The Gene Pool. Three days ago, in the Invitational, we had our first “First Offender” who happened to have received one of Tipton’s inaugural free-gift subscriptions. A First Offender is a long-standing term — a person who got his or her first ink ever in The Invitational. (This status has been a launching pad for many non-paying careers in the international comedic arts.)  This week, the giftee won a well-deserved honorable mention for her entry in a contest soliciting Life Lessons learned from various milieus. Her entry:

At the movies: Anytime a bullet is removed from a victim, it must be dropped into a metal container of some kind, producing a resonant clink. (Cindy Clendenning, Colorado City, Colo.)   

Ms. Clendenning, who got her first ink, won our coveted “Fir Stink” prize, which is a ghastly scented cardboard dangling pine tree for her car’s rear-view mirror. We are nothing if not classy.

Okay, so. This week we are giving away four more $50 yearly gift subscriptions, in time for Thanksgiving. Anyone is eligible to win so long as they are not current paid subscribers. (Cindy, as it happens, had been nominated by her sister, who was a paid subscriber.) In short, you can enter for yourself, or on behalf of someone else, so long as that person is not a currently a paid subscriber. Enter by Tuesday morning.

The challenge is to tell us what would be your first purchase if you were given a gift of $11.26 million cash, no strings attached and no taxes owed. (This is the actual current value of a million dollars in 1955, when the show first aired and John Beresford Tipton began dispensing cash.)

The question for this week, for everyone, is the same: What would be your first purchase if you got $11.2 million in cash, no strings attached? Send your entries to our usual send-in button, which is right here:

Now here comes the tricky detail, because this question, as stated above, is also my key question for the Weekend Gene Pool. Same question: Your first purchase as a multi-millionaire. I am looking for funny / original ideas. But if you want it to be judged for the free subscriptions (for yourself or someone you designate) make sure you include IN THE BODY OF THE TEXT your name and email address. Neither will be published, but I will not know who you are, or have any way to reach you, if you do not tell me. I am now asking you to go back and read this paragraph again. We will wait for you right here. Read it again. Good. Now read it again. Good. Now read it again.

And finally, to state the obvious, I AM LOOKING FOR HUMOR AND ORIGINALITY. If you write that you would put the money in the bank to save for your children’s education, that entry would be worthy of a muted pitter-pat of applause, as if done in the winter in mittens, but nothing else. I will privately print out that noble thought, eat it, and then excrete it a few hours later. It will not be published. It will earn nobody a subscription for anything.

My personal first choice, by the way, would be to buy this insane wonderfully stupid antique advertising clock, which currently costs $60,000, if you can find one for sale.

Reminder, here is the special orange button to send in your stuff:

And here is the button to say thank you for all we are and wish to be: