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Gambling can be entertaining,
exciting when practiced wisely
Riverboat casino experience proves
gambling to be a risky pastime
I’m going to throw something at you penni
less students infomercial-style, so watch your
head. I have one simple solution for you to try
and become a millionaire (without having to
marry someone you’ve never met), or at least be
able to pay for two tacos at Amigo’s instead of
one.
The solution isn’t some tricky new-age hoax
involving “karma rocks” or a crappy informer
cial sham in which a certain Mr. Don Lupre tells
you how to become rich by doing “virtually noth
ing from your one bedroom apartment.”
I have news for Don and the karma rocks -
the obvious and simple answer to your money
problems is to simply and obviously gamble.
That’s right, take the money you don’t have
and turn it into a gold mine.
Disclaimer: I do not take credit for and am
not responsible for losers who lose their money.
My mother taught me several invaluable
lessons concerning the secrets to gambling suc
cess that have worked so well for her. These
“lessons” have kept me going back to the casinos
in Omaha every day for the past three weeks.
Lesson #1: Mom says, “Never leave the casi
no unless you’ve made enough money to pay for
my new car, or if you’re so broke that you need to
drop out of school and stay up late watching that
Don Lupre infomercial on how to become a mil
lionaire from your one bedroom apartment. I
hate that guy.”
Lesson #2: Mom says, “The world of gam
bling yields a 50/50 chance of success. The other
half is failure. Love is like that. Don’t ever gam
ble with love; stick with money.”
I’m not sure what she meant by that one, but
I’m single and rich, so I think I interpreted the
use of the word ‘yield’ correctly.
Lesson #3: Mom says, “If you find yourself
addicted to gambling, just keep goin’ till some
one (usually a good friend) makes you follow
either an 8 or a 12 step program (your choice)
and refuses to speak to you until you’re all bet
ter.”
With these tips in mind, I was ready to push
the almighty quarter into a tiny slot repeatedly
until the machine “showed me the money.”
The truth is, I didn’t walk away empty-hand
ed my first time. I felt the rush (comparable to
that of heavy drug stimulation) and I had 15 extra
dollars to prove it. I don’t really want to brag, but
15 dollars isn’t that easy to come up with without
actually going to work.
It’s always been my philosophy never to start
something unless there is help available for the
people who get out of control.
This is why gambling is a good idea - if you
get addicted, no problem. Simply call a number
and someone will help you! (But if you see these
people with a straight jacket in hand, exit your
back door promptly).
I am immune to such losses of control, but I
soon realized, after feeling the allurement of the
casino and seeing it’s dizzying effects, that my
mother is one of these people. She is one of the
addicted, and it was time that I “stop the insani
ty,” as infomercial guru Susan Powter used to cry
out to the audience.
When Mom asked me if she could borrow a
quarter, that’s when I knew she had hit rock bot
tom.
I grabbed a handful of brochures to help
familiarize myself with the warning signs of a
gambling addict, so I wouldn’t falsely point my
finger at her.
It was all there in print; as I read the warning
signs I realized that my mother could have been
the poster child for gambling addiction. The next
day I vowed that when I was done at the casino, I
would help her with her problem.
I blame my mother’s addiction on the fact
that she is a lonely librarian who is cooped up all
day long in western Nebraska with dusty, cen
sored books and the bitterly forgotten Dewey
Decimal System. It’s not her fault that there’s
nothing in Kimball to do but ride oil
wells and tip cows. /"
When I first presented my moth- /
er with her “problem,” she pulled /
my hair and kicked me. Then she /
denied it with everything in her /
power - namely an empty purse
filled with empty lies.
In the end, I realized it
wasn’t a gambling problem at
all, but instead she has some
communicable disease. Her
edginess wasn’t at all
because she was bankrupt
(like I once thought), but due
to a new medication she has
to take to survive.
Long lunches were due
to taking the medication
intravenously, not to go
gamble a quick one. And
the loss of money? It
was simply a result of
the expensive nature
oi me drug, not
because she believed
she was blessed
with good luck and
destined for great
ness and riches.
Basically,
gambling is a fun I
way to entertain i
yourself- if you Jl
do it wisely. As jl
we all know, jfl
winners may
be big losers JBF
in the future if
they can’t ■Pi
stop gam
bling.
I sort of f fj
felt bad for
the incessant
accusations
against my
poor, with
ered, librari
an mother.
But then
again, she
did teach me
how to gam
ble.
Asa
good daughter
should do, I
treated her to a
mgnt out on me ~
town as a way to
apologize for the little
scare I put her through.
I even volunteered to
take her to the casino for a
“quick one.”
After all, on the back of the
“How to Help a Compulsive
Gambler” brochure it says, “No
one will be denied services due to an
inability to pay.”
Ca-chink!
Delan Lonowski/DN
Karen Brown is a senior English and film studies major and a Daily
Nebraskan columnist.
As the car sped eastbound down
Interstate 80,1 realized there was no
turning back. I was on the road so
many others have taken when they
wanted to gamble, find a strip club
in an affordable price range or
look at the finest in foreign
“adult” cinema. I was headed to
H Council Bluffs. I had just gotten
my paycheck, and instead of
| doing something stupid like
putting it in a bank, I did what
V? any reasonable American
. would do: I tried to make it
into more money.
The idea of putting
money into a machine,
pulling a lever and get
ting back a substan
tially larger amount
of money definitely
seemed questionable
to me.
But 1 was reas
sured by a bill
board that
Harvey’s slots
are “the loosest
in Council
Bluffs!” I
I thought this
p: would be a
I sure-fire way
I', for me to make
K some easy
k money,
ni Before my
H| trip to C.B., I
mk had to do a
jji little research
9R on gambling.
® 1 started
attending the
|j|p: weekly
Mm Gambler’s
mr •: Anonymous
If:: meetings
w, and bet
some guy
^ ^ five bucks
0: ' he couldn’t
ggf give me a
i|[f. winning
strategy for
* m slot
■ machines.
h He was hes
£// itant at first,
iff but eventually
y he came
* around.
Here is what
he told me: Scout
out the room and find
someone who has been
playing consistently on
the same machine and has
n’t been winning. When that
person leaves, take that
machine. Your chances of win
ning are higher because that suck
er has been losing frequently.
If you are having trouble, go play
the machines closest to the aisle. These get the
highest amount of traffic; many people will
play unsuccessfully and move on. And don’t
start on a machine that just paid off big for
someone.
I kept this man’s advice in mind as I
walked into Harvey’s. Inside, the hotel lobby
was nicer than I thought. I expected
Confederate flags and coonskins to be hanging
on the wall, but there were luxury accommo
dations and an $8 buffet.
“Casino,” I thought to myself, “I am going
to dominate you.”
I walked for awhile, trying to scout out a
good place to start the winning. There are three
levels, all basically the same. Each level was
rectangular, with slots and video poker around
the perimeter and assorted blackjack and poker
games in the center.
I found a suitable machine to start at, a
quarter slot game, and I put in $10. This gave
me 40 plays.
I then proceeded to lose $10 without win
ning once, at four different machines. This had
to be the worst start in the history of gambling.
What’s worse is that the pay-back rates are
posted on the machines, and they’re always
some ridiculously high number like 97.5 per
cent! You have to be stupid not to win. I had
blown through $10 of my allotted $26 in about
10 minutes.
I decided to play a game I was more expe
rienced at, one I knew I could win.
I headed to the bar.
Drink prices were dirt cheap, and games
were built right into the bar so alcoholic gam
bling addicts wouldn’t have to get up. I stayed
at the bar for awhile, contemplating my next
move.
“If there were a game called getting drunk,
I would be a big winner tonight,” I said to the
bartender.
We enjoyed a laugh, and 1 went out to try
the quarter slots again. I put $ 10 in and hit the
button. Magically, I had won $5.1 pushed the
button again and won $15.1 pushed the button
again and won $ 1.
Three in a row!
1 looked over at the blackjack tables and
saw many solemn faces.
“They were all the victims of some
crooked poker game,” I thought to myself.
/' But I was going to beat the odds. I got all
/of my quarters in a cup and set out to win big. 1
envisioned the night ending in the high-rollers
suite with me sleeping on a pile of money. I
had the fever, and the phrase “quit while you’re
ahead” didn’t enter my mind (thanks to those
cheap whiskey and Cokes).
The rest of the story is a predictable one.
Of course, I lost every last cent to various slots
and poker machines. The temptation to with
draw money from one of the countless ATMs
was high, but I remained strong and walked
out the door.
On the way out, there was a man who said
good night to everyone exiting. What a slap in
the face.
They just took all of my hard-earned
money, and then they rub it in that they’re /
making so muchjthey can afford to employ a
man to tell me good night.
For those of you who may not be old
enough to go to the casino yet, I have some
thing you can do that’s very similar: Go into
your bathroom, take the money out of your
purse or wallet, throw it in your toilet and
flush.
If you are old enough to gamble, I would
encourage you to do something productive
with your money.
Go to a fortune teller, have your palm read
or call a psychic hotline, but don’t throw it
away at the casino.
Tony Bock is a junior broadcasting major
and a Daily Nebraskan columnist
