COMMENTS & CURIOSITIES:Never bought a ticket, eh? No matter

Will it ever change? I don’t think so. When faced with the choice between earning money and stealing it, there will always be those who don’t understand the first option.

Newport Beach police are warning residents to keep eyes and ears open and antennae fully extended for the Canadian lottery scam, a variation of my absolute favorite scam of all time, the Nigerian Oil scam, to which we will return shortly.

Two Newport Beach residents reported receiving letters announcing that they had won the Canadian national lottery, which is called Lottery Canada, eh? Actually, it’s just Lottery Canada. I added the “eh.”

The Newport Beach letters included a check to cover “tax deductions,” which the “winner” was told to deposit in their account. As soon as the same amount was wired to a “tax agent” in Canada, the winner would be wired an unspeakably large sum of money and would never want for anything again.

One resident reported the less-than-subtle scam to the police, but the other, unfortunately, did exactly as told. Most of these con artists prey on the elderly, who tend to be more respectful of authority and less in touch with the latest scams making the rounds of mailboxes, telephones and the Internet.

That aside, what amazes me when I read about someone being taken in by one or another of the international lottery scams is this: The Canadian lottery, like all lotteries, has a strange twist — you have to buy a ticket to win. The odds of winning any lottery are not good. But the odds of winning if you haven’t bought a ticket are really, really bad. How con artists can get people to make that first leap of faith is beyond me. Maybe that’s why they call them con artists.

“Let me see if I understand. I have never in my life bought a ticket in the Canadian lottery, wouldn’t know where to find one, barely know where to find Canada — but I won.”

“That is correct. Congratulations.”

The other red flag according to experts is the idea that a lottery would bother contacting winners at all. Not only are lotteries under no obligation to track down winners, but they would rather eat a bug than do that. After a certain amount of time (six months to one year depending on the lottery), unclaimed winnings go back in the pot with a large chunk going directly to the state.

Lastly, why on earth would a lottery send you a check for “deductions” then ask you to send them the same amount in return — always wired, never by check of course?

While we are on the subject of people who know who Lillian Gish was, government agencies and AARP have sent out a blizzard of warnings about people “selling” Medicare drug discount cards. If you qualify, you get one. Period. You don’t need to buy one from anyone, no matter who they say they are or where they say they’re from. If you want one, call Medicare directly at (800) 633-4227, or if you’d prefer not to be on hold listening to Mantovani until April 2009, go to their website, www.medicare.gov.

Telemarketing? Don’t make me tell you again. Never, ever, ever buy anything of any kind from anyone for any reason over the phone.

Trust your brain. It is smarter than you are. If you need something, anything, it will know what to do. If you need milk, a new putter or Plavix, your brain will tell you how to get it. You don’t need strangers calling at dinnertime to tell you that you need land in Arizona or disability insurance or a subscription to Travel & Leisure.

But of all the scams, I have to say the Nigerian Oil scam, which has been around since long before computers, is still my all-time favorite. The letter or e-mail always starts with a hush-hush, top-secret message from some government official or bank officer who, for some preposterous, convoluted reason, is trying to get a zillion dollars out of the country and needs your “help.” If you will just send your personal and financial information at your earliest convenience, they will forward you tens of millions of dollars minus a small processing fee.

Could it be any simpler? I don’t see how.

There is also the lame explanation of how with 6 billion people in the world, someone in Nigeria found you, personally, halfway around the world: “I recently met a colleague of yours”; “an associate of mine met you recently and gave me your name”; etc.

But the misspellings, bad grammar and tortured usage are what keep me reading these loopy messages to the very end. All “Dr. Samir Hassan” wants out of life is “a private individual who will be willing to keep some million of dollars stash in their private hoses.”

Fighting off the urge to write back is not easy.

“Dear Dr. Hassan: Thank you for your e-mail of September 8. Finding a private hose should not be a problem. My neighbors and I all have them. But I am puzzled as to how to get the millions of dollars stash inside. Do we roll the bills up or just jam them in there? Please advise, Peter Buffa, Director, National Bank of Mesa Verde.”

There was this heart-wrenching passage, from “Mrs. Suha Arafat”: “Since my husband’s death, I have been thrown into a state of antagonism, confusion, humiliation, frustration and hopelessness and I have lost confidence with everybody in the country at the moment.”

Geez, Suha, you gotta get over it. I get into a state of antagonism, confusion, humiliation, frustration and hopelessness sometimes too, but I don’t let it get me down.

So there you have it. Don’t lose hope. Your ship will come in. If it’s not the Canadian lottery, it could be a windfall in Nigerian oil profits. Get those account numbers ready and then check the mail. Just because you can’t pronounce Ifeanyi Ubah doesn’t mean he isn’t legit.

I gotta go.