One of the great aspects of writing this blog is the
quality of feedback. There are a number of
folks who offer thoughtful responses, some in the comments and even more by
email.
My most recent post, on urbanism and gambling, offers an example. I concluded with the tentative conclusion
that urban settings and gambling were fundamentally incompatible, but
acknowledged a level of uncertainty in the conclusion, asking for others to
respond.
I received two particularly thoughtful responses, which
went in different directions.
One was from regular reader and Urban Chat participant Dan
Lyke.
“I've visited Las Vegas a couple of times, and were my
tastes a little more mainstream American and rooted in the spectacle of
artifice, I could have gotten along entirely without the car. Walking down the strip, even walking a few
blocks off the strip to get to the affordable hotels (yes, I'm a super cheap
person), is totally doable. Would I be
okay with the spectacle of the Bellagio in a downtown, fountains and light
shows on the hour? Maybe, but then I
thought a bit.
“The point of a casino is to create a fantasy. I don't understand it, nothing about dark
weirdly lit cavernous rooms smelling of cigarette smoke, and filled with that
weird set of jangly electronic music sounds, says "I'm going to be the
special one who defies the odds" to me, but it apparently does to some
people.
“And given that need to create a fantasy world, it seems
like there must be a barrier to entry. Especially if you aren't used to walking as
your primary mode of transportation, you can't cross the threshold to that sort
of fantasy world by stepping out your front door and continuing on foot. There has to be a journey of some sort,
otherwise it's just like scratchers at the corner bodega.”
Shortly after, I received an email from someone with whom
I’ve often discussed urbanism.
Unfortunately, he didn’t respond to my request to use his name, so I’m
forced to call him Anonymous.
“Your latest blog got me thinking. With Native American casino gambling creeping
into urban settings, it seems silly to be able to gamble at Graton, but not on
the other side of the freeway.
“When Native American casinos were in remote settings, we
could rest somewhat assured that the gambling wouldn't directly affect
mainstream society with its potential for crime, drunken drivers, and the like.
“Now, it's a little hard to argue that we have kept
gambling at arm’s length with a casino right in the middle of Rohnert Park.
“Perhaps legalizing gambling and issuing permits to
qualified restaurants and pubs in urban settings would keep the gambling
revenue stream local. Revenue from three
or four maximum allowable machines per business could be split between the
business and the state.
“Fewer car trips to suburban casinos, another revenue
stream for urban businesses, another activity centered on population centers. I'm sure the gambling companies would fight
this tooth and nail. But like it or not
(I don’t) gambling is here to stay. I
think we would be wise to figure out how to make lemonade out of these lemons
before it's too late.”
Two readers, two thoughtful responses, two different
directions, two alternative futures to ponder.
Let’s first look at the wider distribution of gambling.
When I was young, my family took vacations that required
early morning departures with breakfast stops in Las Vegas. I was fascinated by the gambling around me. To sit in a diner, eating chocolate chip pancakes,
watching the keno board, and listening to the bells of slot machines seemed an
early hint of adulthood.
Of course, I was only nine at the time. I also thought that cigarettes and jazz were
exciting symbols of maturity. Luckily,
only jazz retained its patina by my 18th birthday.
Today, I shudder at the thought of walking into a
neighborhood diner and hearing slot machine noises. Even more, I fear that the friends and
neighborhoods with whom I might wish to talk would instead be focused on
spinning wheels and flashing lights.
I grant Anonymous the truth of his assertions about casinos
gaining a foothold, however unfortunate, nearer to the core of our communities
and the desirability of a new revenue stream, but I can’t swallow the idea of every
Denny’s and McDonalds having slot machines in the corner.
Which brings us back to Lyke’s comments about gambling as
fantasy. He’s right. And it’s not only the chances of beating the
house at the tables, it’s the showgirls, the freely available alcohol, and the sense
of elsewhere compared to our everyday lives.
All of those factors contribute to the fantasy.
And Lyke is correct that a “threshold” is an essential
element of a fantasy. But is there an
alternative to the car trip that constitutes the threshold for most casinos?
Perhaps there is. What
if every casino was required by law to charge admission, moving casinos from a
possible everyday attraction to an occasional special event? What if every person was required to stay at
the casino hotel or to pay perhaps $30 to gamble?
Instead of casinos being places that can be visited several
times a week or on whims, they would become long scheduled events. They
would become Disneyland for adults instead of upper end, to use Lyke’s great
phrase, “scratchers at the corner bodega”.
Nor need an admission fee preclude most segments of the
population from visiting casinos.
Perhaps the more affluent would visit monthly while the more
financially-challenged would save for a year before a visit, but nearly everyone
could gamble once in awhile, just as nearly everyone can find a way to afford
an occasional visit to Disneyland.
And I even find the idea of casino in urban settings more
palatable with admission charges. If
nothing else, the casinos would likely move from storefront locations attempting
to induce casual pedestrians inside to more discreet upstairs locations
suitable for the occasional fantasy outing. I doubt that I’d be a regular visitor, but the
concept seems more acceptable.
I‘m not suggesting it will be easy to convert to having casinos
charge admission. If nothing else, there
is a casino in Rohnert Park that will fight to preserve its business model to
recapture its $800 million construction cost.
But if we don’t have a vision of a better future, even if long-term, how
will we ever get there?
As always, your questions or comments will be
appreciated. Please comment below or
email me. And thanks for reading. - Dave
Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
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