Virginians are already addicted to gambling

Gambling isn’t the problem. Nor is an addiction to gambling a problem.

Virginia’s legislators are the problem. They are the real culprits.

Opposition to casinos in Portsmouth and Norfolk and elsewhere in the state is a red herring.

Virginians are already addicted to gambling.

It’s called the Virginia Lottery.

The Virginia Lottery hit its own jackpot in fiscal year 2012 with a record profit of $487.1 million.

That beats the previous record high profit of $455.3 million in fiscal 2008, according to a Virginia Lottery release.

Enter any 7-11 at any time of the day and night and people are lined up to buy tickets, and the geniuses at the Virginia Lottery are always concocting new games to take our money.

So is the opposition to casinos really about our gambling addiction?

No, the opposition is about protecting the state’s ownership of the state’s sole gambling franchise.

Legislators know if they approve gambling licenses to private companies, the money will drift to their pockets, not the pockets of the state.

Should the state really be in the gambling business?

Approve licenses for casinos, as Senator Louise Lucas proposed in several bills this past General Assembly – but were shot down.

Norfolk and Portsmouth, two cities struggling with their cash flow, could use a boost, especially since they are home to many tax-exempt properties.

Reading the Virginia Lottery’s web site makes me wonder if the state’s largest and most public casino is about profits or money for education, social services and the health of Virginians.
Mission - Contributing to Virginia's future one play at a time.
Vision - The Virginia Lottery will become an innovative leader in delivering gaming products to the broadest possible consumer base
Strategy statement - To grow the number of Virginians who play Lottery games by 2% by December 2015, we will transform the Virginia Lottery into a consumer-focused organization.

gamblers all

sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think,
I'm not going to make it, but you laugh inside
remembering all the times you've felt that way, and
you walk to the bathroom, do your toilet, see that face
in the mirror, oh my oh my oh my, but you comb your hair anyway,
get into your street clothes, feed the cats, fetch the
newspaper of horror, place it on the coffee table, kiss your
wife goodbye, and then you are backing the car out into life itself,
like millions of others you enter the arena once more.

you are on the freeway threading through traffic now,
moving both towards something and towards nothing at all as you punch
the radio on and get Mozart, which is something, and you will somehow
get through the slow days and the busy days and the dull
days and the hateful days and the rare days, all both so delightful
and so disappointing because
we are all so alike and so different.

you find the turn-off, drive through the most dangerous
part of town, feel momentarily wonderful as Mozart works
his way into your brain and slides down along your bones and
out through your shoes.

it's been a tough fight worth fighting
as we all drive along
betting on another day.

Charles Bukowski