What a wonderful year I'm having. First my wife gives birth to a baby girl, then I find out I'm going to be rich. Extremely rich. Yes, I just received an email from a Nigerian man who wants to share $21.5 million with me. Can you believe my luck? This is just too good to be true!

Dr. Atiko Usman, a top official in the Nigerian National Petroleum Corp., promises to give me 30% of the $21.5 million if I help him transfer the entire amount to America. In other words, I'm getting almost $6.5 million just to allow him to deposit the money into MY bank account. I'm so thrilled, I can't stop dancing.

Only one question keeps troubling me: When Dr. Usman sends me the money, how many Mercedes Benzes should I buy? Are 15 too many? Or should I stick with seven, one for each day of the week? Perhaps I should buy a few Jaguars, too. And just to show my generosity, perhaps I should also buy a car for my father-in-law -- a nice, sporty Hyundai.

If you're suspicious of Dr. Usman, I understand. It's a normal reaction, especially since Dr. Usman picked me and not YOU. It's also quite normal for you to pull out your hair and scream, "Why do good things always happen to other people?"

Let me emphasize this: Dr. Usman didn't pick me at random. He states that the Nigerian Chamber of Commerce had "guaranteed my reliability and trustworthiness in business dealings." They had apparently heard -- perhaps through my local chamber of commerce -- how well I operated my last garage sale.

I didn't sell any clothes that hadn't been thoroughly washed within the last decade. I put "As is" signs on all appliances that were utterly useless. I didn't shortchange a single customer. (Only the married ones.)

My stellar reputation won me the $6.5 million deal with Dr. Usman. I guess this is what President Bush means when he speaks of a global economy -- A Nigerian helping an Indian achieve the American dream. From now on, whenever I see a sign that says, "God Bless America," I'm going to change it to "God Bless America and Nigeria!"

Wait a minute. I just checked my email again and five other Nigerians are eager to do deals with me. Each one has a different reason for needing to transfer millions of dollars. I'm no genius, but I know exactly what this means: I'm even richer than I thought. Perhaps 15 Benzes aren't too many. If this continues, I'll soon be able to buy a lot of property, maybe even a vast area of land such as Nigeria. Wouldn't that be ironic?

My Nigerian partners have asked me to keep our deals "strictly confidential" and I understand why. If my family hears about these secret transactions, I might be forced to share my millions. I certainly don't want that. But I can't help telling the world that I'm rich, that Bill Gates had better watch out.

That's why I'm writing to some of my college professors, the ones who didn't think I'd amount to anything. "Dear Dr. Martin: Remember how you said if I flunked your class, I'd struggle in the real world? You may be surprised to learn that I'm a successful businessman with a great reputation. And if you don't believe me, just ask the Nigerian Chamber of Commerce. Tell them Dr. Usman sent you."

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