Thursday, August 14, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Local View: Problem gambling--as if there's any other kind

By Chuck Gardner

"When the Fun Stops," in big white letters, takes up the top half of the brochure's front page. Underneath in smaller dark print: "Understanding Problem Gambling." Enough already to make one think this just might be an "industry" pretend, allegedly doing something about "problem" gambling as though there were any other kind, and based on the concept that, unless you're some kind of deadbeat sicko, gambling is big-letter fun. The first line when you open it up says, "For most people, gambling is entertainment--a fun activity that can be enjoyed without harmful effects."

Quick research on the Nevada Council on Problem Gambling reveals the following "advisers": Amerine Gaming Enterprises, the Nevada Resort Association, Mandalay Resort Group, Flamingo Las Vegas, Fiesta Casino Hotel, Boyd Gaming Corp. and Station Casinos. Listed among the board of directors are executives of the Bellagio, Sega Gaming, the Nevada Retail Gaming Association, the Tropicana Hotel and Harrah's. Research and health care institutions who get money from these companies are also on the roster.

Since the brochure doesn't say who is really behind it, and just in case someone might get the impression that it doesn't like all that fun and entertainment called gambling, a disclaimer on the back says: "The council is neutral on the issue of legalized gambling, focusing solely on addressing problem gambling." Two entirely different things, of course. And, oh yes, "contributions to the Nevada Council on Problem Gambling are tax-deductible."

Taking the entire 11-inch width at the top of the inside page is a "quote" from "Anonymous" that begins, "In the beginning I gambled because it was fun. It was magical the way gambling freed me from the worries, fears and frustrations of everyday living." Then the fun stopped. Most of the rest of the brochure is dedicated to identifying the symptoms of an "emotional illness" called "compulsive gambling" that strikes some people from out of nowhere when all the casinos are trying to do is entertain you, and all you're trying to do is have fun. If you're not having good, clean fun like most everyone else, you have a bad dirty disease like a few other oddballs, and it's all your fault for being a freak who can't handle all the fun and entertainment of throwing your money away. Then there's a phone number to call these guys for help.

Let me suggest a somewhat different approach.

Front page: "You're not gambling. You're just throwing it away. And not just your money."

First inside page: "That hole you're throwing the money into that you just spent all day working for is nothing more than a machine programmed to give you back less than what you put in. So why are you sitting there wasting your time and money in this tobacco stench, plastered to the screen like some kind of lobotomized zombie? They once did experiments on pigeons. If a machine feeds a pigeon at every peck, the pigeon will eat and quit. If the machine never feeds the pigeon, the pigeon will never go to it. But if the machine drops a pellet only sometimes at random, the pigeon gets hooked. You're the pigeon. The difference is, you're feeding them."

Second inside page: "How do you know that the machine you're playing isn't rigged even more than they admit to? It's happened before and it'll happen again. And why do you think the Nevada gaming industry has always made sure that state and local governments never do anything about smoking wherever there are gambling devices, even in grocery stores? Could it be that they prey on addictive-compulsive, self-destructive personalities? Is that you?"

Third inside page: "How much did you lose today? This week? Last week? Add it up. Enough to pay the rent? Buy the kids some clothes? Surprise your wife, husband, girlfriend, boyfriend with something nice? Pay off your credit card? Make the car payment? Buy a car? How about enough to treat yourself or someone you love, or both, to the best spa in town, all day, where you say, `give me the works'? But the pigeon is hooked. What do you think they do with all the money that you and others sit there all day giving them like a bunch of chimpanzees? First, they buy high-priced lobbyists to screw you every other way they can think of and every low-life politician in the state to take everything else they can get. Then they go out and buy, with your money, not one house, but two, not one car, but one for every day of the week, and treat themselves to the best spa, not in town, but in Switzerland, where they say, `gib mir alles.'"

Back page: "You're a sucker, baby."