Advocate For The Disabled And Indigent

Advocate For The Disabled And Indigent
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Sunday, March 14, 2010

Old Habits Are Hard To Break

As I cruise down the Garden State Parkway, alone in my 2008 Toyota Scion, I once again forget to put on any music, as the thoughts of my destination preoccupy my mind.  Desparate for some extra money, I have brought along all that I have to my name ($1200) and am debating with myself on how I plan to gamble with it.  I am Atlantic City bound.

No thought of losing ever enters my head.  That decision and outcome is made at the Casino.  For right now, mile after mile, I calculate how much I am going to pull out of my pocket, what my maximum bets will be, what game I will play, and what system I will employ.  Yet, regardless of what conclusion I arrive at for my gambling stategy, it never stays the same once I arrive and walk through those Casino doors.  For when I step into that mystical realm of chance, and hear the slot machine orchestra playing my tune, my will and my senses are no longer my own, as I succumb to the allure of the gaming environment.


With about an hour and a half to go before I arrive, I begin calling the Casinos for a comp room.  I make sure that I travel between Sunday through Thursday because even though I have probably lost somewhere close to a half million dollars during my gambling career, I still don't rank with the high rollers who can get comp rooms on the weekends.  And since I have not been to a Casino in a couple of months, after 3 calls to 3 different Casinos, my request for a free room for one evening is declined.  I figure, no problem, when I win I'll get a room at one of the hooker hotels just to pass out in.  See, still no thoughts of losing.

Its about time for a pit stop to hit the mens room, so I check my location on the Parkway and see that I am just passing Exit 105, so I'm close to a rest area.  How many times I have asked myself what started me on my gambling career, and Exit 105 reveals the answer.

It was 38 years ago and I was 16, with one month to go till I got my driver's license, and my father was teaching me to drive.  That was usually my mother's task, but this lesson went to Dad.  It was time for me to get some highway driving in, and my father was in control.  We set our course for the Garden State Parkway.

I drove for about a half hour on that highway until my Dad directed me to take Exit 105.  He said it was such a beautiful day that we might as well make our lesson take me to Monmouth Racetrack, which was only another 10 minutes away.

There are not many more beautiful and serene settings than Monmouth Racetrack on a warm spring day.  The excitement of watching those awesome horses race around the track, and knowing that I could make some money betting on the right one, was the perfect combination of ingredients that unbeknownced to me at that time, would start my gambling addiction.  I didn't even gamble on this day because I was still under age, but I sure as hell knew I was coming back.

My eyes are closing now from the depression medication I have been taking, so I will continue this story in my next entry.