Gov. Deval Patrick touts a myriad of miseries

Gov. Deval Patrick touts a myriad of miseries
By Joe Fitzgerald

So Deval Patrick thinks the “long chapter in the debate around casino gambling is about to close.”

No, governor, the worst is yet to come, and it won’t be measured in the self-serving statistics you so blithely offer, such as all those jobs that will be created to construct your bloody casinos. And, yes, bloody is the word, because it’s blood money you’re pursuing, monies drawn from losses incurred by bettors whose lives and families are about to be ravaged with your blessings.

You may be a hero to the unions, but to untold thousands of constituents you’ve just become an enabler of miseries that will be tallied in blown wages, shattered dreams and broken homes.

That’s what fuels gambling. That’s what keeps the roulette wheels spinning: “Maybe my ship will come in if I make another bet.”

You think our economy will get healthy by feeding off this sickness?

Is that what you’re telling us, governor?

Then you’re sicker than they are.

But it gets worse. Casinos will be allowed to offer free drinks on the gaming floor? What’s alcohol going to do in an atmosphere of depression and despair except camouflage the pain, prodding the losers to dig a little deeper?

Or might that be the game plan?

Governor, here are two Massachusetts residents you might want to talk with; their numbers are available.

Nancy, a single mother, finally achieved sustained sobriety, only to lose it at an author’s signing in a Cambridge bookstore.

“The owner passed around glasses of wine. I thought I’d take an innocent sip and ended up back in detox.”

Pete was finally in recovery when his father died.

“I received Communion at his funeral, never thinking about the wine; four days later I was back on the street. That’s all it took, just one taste, and, bingo, I was picking up again.”

Anecdotal? Yes. But there are dozens of stories here exactly like them, all bearing witness to the menacing nature of alcohol. If it can ambush a clear-headed citizen at a bookstore or a funeral, imagine what it might do to a gambler distraught at the blackjack table?

If he lit up a cigarette he’d be tossed out because the commonwealth supposedly cares so much about him.

Yet that same commonwealth has no problem luring him into a betting parlor and dulling his senses with complimentary drinks?

This is responsible government?

No, this is an outrage, perpetrated by a clueless chief executive who sees it as an occasion to mug for the cameras, beaming as if he had championed a noble cause.

Noble? Please. This is a disgrace.

Shame on you, governor.