A few years back I sat on a Friday night having dinner with friends in a Mexican restaurant in DC, where at the time I lived the footloose and (mildly) fancy-free life of a post-college bachelor working on the Hill. One friend was struck with the bright idea of paying our check and loading into a car for an impromptu road trip to Atlantic City, where none of us had ever been. Because we could, we did.
Roughly 12 hours later, each of us thoroughly defeated by games we did not really understand, we lined up at the teller window in a cheesy Atlantic City casino to cash out what remained of our depleted cache of chips. We'd had a good time, none of us had done irrevocable damage to his finances; breakfast and then sleep before the long drive back to DC beckoned.
Then, a tap at my shoulder. (I should pause here to note that I am trying mightily not to over-dramatize this anecdote. Certain adjectives are necessary, though, to convey the reality of what happened.) I turned and looked into a pair of bleary, panicked eyes. These eyes should have been sitting in the face of a man about to ask me to call 9-1-1, his wife was having a heart attack. But they weren't. These eyes belonged to a man of about 40 years of age, his arm extended towards me and his hand pinching a wedding band between two fingers as he pushed it in my face for inspection.
"It's platinum. Give me two hundred dollars?"
I shook my head, startled. Then, to each of my friends, pleading. "It's platinum? One seventy? It's
platinum."
He moved off down the line, readjusting his price to $200 for the next group of potential buyers. My friends and I cashed out and headed for breakfast. On the way back to DC we kept revisiting that guy and his panicked eyes. To my knowledge none of us is even a casual gambler today, and whenever gambling or Atlantic City comes up in conversation it is a sure bet that someone will speculate as to the fate of that man and his platinum ring.
I am reminded again of that unfortunate man as I read
the Globe article this morning about the bankruptcy of the Twin Rivers '
racino' in Lincoln, Rhode Island. The parallels between my guy with his platinum band and the State of Rhode Island with its own gambling addiction are, again, probably overwrought and a little strained - but they are there.
Like the man in Atlantic City, Rhode Island has gambled itself into a hole. Twin River is, according to the Globe, "
singlehandedly Rhode Island’s third-largest revenue stream, after income and sales taxes." Did I mention it is also bankrupt? Well, it is. And so like the guy in AC who gambled himself into a hole so deep that he was willing to sell the wedding ring off his finger, Rhode Island is desperate.
"To help the Lincoln, R.I., gaming emporium stay afloat, [Rhode Island Governor]
Carcieri plans to allow Twin River to operate 24 hours a day, seven days a week..."
"'I’m not a big fan of gambling, because I do not think it is economic development,’ the governor said. 'We have it; it’s here,' he said at the press conference. 'My job is to do the best we can to protect it and keep the taxpayers healthy.’"
It seems not to concern the Governor that the variety of "taxpayer" likely to be gambling in the wee hours of the morning on a weekday is anything but "healthy." To the contrary, many of them are likely to bear a striking resemblance - especially in the eyes - to the man who tried to sell me his wedding ring in Atlantic City over a decade ago.
Like Governor
Carcieri, I'm 'not a big fan of gambling.' But I recognize that for many, many people it is a relatively harmless form of recreation. We also live in a free country, where we are entitled to spend our own money as we wish, even if how we spend it lands us in a cheesy casino in the middle of the night, literally hocking the family jewels.
My point here is not to proselytize. All I am saying is that the situation in Rhode Island, with its over-reliance on gambling revenues and the life-destroying desperation measures that over-reliance has prompted, might be a good object lesson to keep in mind later this year - when the usual suspects on Beacon Hill start to push state-sanctioned gambling as a budgetary cure-all.
UPDATE: Treasurer and gubernatorial hopeful Tim
Cahill just released his analysis of the Twin River bankruptcy and what it means to prospects for gaming in the Commonwealth. From the State House News:
The reported bankruptcy of Twin River, a slot parlor in Rhode Island, is something Massachusetts may be able to “take advantage of” as the size of the region’s gaming industry changes, Treasurer Tim Cahill said Wednesday. Cahill said the bankruptcy filing is the result of a bad deal approved by the developer, guaranteeing that 61 percent of revenue would go back to the Rhode Island state government. “Governments get greedy and the folks that want to build these things will say almost anything just to get their foot in the door,” he said. “They’re paying the state too much and the credit markets have changed in the last year.” Cahill, who has outlined a plan to introduce slot parlors in Massachusetts and has previously suggested bringing in full-fledged casin, has said that a smaller take for the state would ensure that slot parlors are able to reinvest in themselves, make improvements, and stay solvent. The treasurer said that expanded gambling is the third largest revenue source for the Rhode Island government.
The Treasurer just fell several rungs in the estimation of at least one Massachusetts voter. What a
knuckle-headed analysis. The Twin River bankruptcy, not 45 minutes drive from Boston, does not provide an opportunity for Massachusetts. It does lay bare two fatal flaws in the pro-casino argument:
(1) The regional market for gambling is not infinite. Far from it. Mohegan Sun and
Foxwoods (both "destination resort casinos" of the variety favored by Governor Patrick) are both
hemorrhaging money in the current downturn. Twin River (a gaming parlor of the variety favored by Treasurer
Cahill) cannot keep its head above water. From where, then are the gamblers to come to fill either the multiple Massachusetts destination resort casinos Patrick is seeking, or the slot parlors
Cahill wants? And
(2) Gambling is not a budgetary panacea. To the contrary, as Rhode Island so starkly demonstrates, state-sanctioned gaming tends to have the same deleterious effects on state finances as gambling so often has on personal finances.
Okay... maybe now I am proselytizing just a little bit.