Gambling is not something that has ever gone over so well in the Dawson household. Neither my father when he was alive, nor myself, have ever been able to do any type of gambling for sheer fun. Usually it was just the opposite, which is why I continue to avoid walking into casinos or any other gambling type of establishments these days, because I know once in them, I’m on a mission to obtain something that really is never going to be obtained there and I had a great reminder of that recently at my partner’s company’s summer outing.
There, we were given $250 of play money when we arrived that could be used in the gaming tent that was filled with real blackjack, craps, and roulette tables and authentic dealers. The goal was to make as much money as one could, where the winnings could “purchase” raffle tickets for prizes to be given away at the end of the day.
I decided it would be harmless to use some of the play money and gamble a little so my partner initially gave me $50. We plopped down at a blackjack table and like always, when I used to gamble, I started out modestly with $5 and occasionally $10 bets. But as soon as I got my first blackjack, I began taking greater risks and within 15 minutes I had lost all of that $50 and had to ask for more of that play money from my partner. Ten minutes later, I had lost another $25.
Even though it was just play money, I still felt lousy as I walked away from that table, convinced that if I had sat down at another one, I would have fared far better in my winnings, or rather losings in this case. As we walked out of the gaming tent, my partner still had $100 left of that play money that on some level, was eating more of a hole in my pocket then him.
It was then I found myself craving sweets and caffeine and although I don’t consume caffeinated beverages anymore, I still do enjoy my sweets, so I grabbed myself a bomb pop from the complimentary ice cream cart and quickly gulped it down like I was still on a mission to obtain something.
Only a half hour would pass before I finally convinced my partner we needed to return to the gaming tent and try another table, assuring him that things would be different this time. Fifteen minutes later I had lost another $50 of that play money. While my partner continued to enjoy placing a few more bets, I opted to head to the bathroom feeling nothing but shame, even though I hadn’t lost a single penny of my own money. As I waited for a port-o-potty to become available, I suddenly remembered my father standing in front of a game of chance at a local carnival some three decades earlier.
There, he attempted to win this prize for me and kept spending one $20 bill after another to obtain something that was probably worth no more than $5. Eventually, the guy in charge of the game just gave my father the prize out of pity for him and we left with my father feeling heated and very angry. I could totally relate, as I continued to stand there waiting to pee.
You see, gambling for my father and I was never truly about obtaining that “prize”, whether it was money or a stuffed animal or anything else. Rather, it was always about obtaining something that would fill the emptiness we felt within, that hole in the soul, which is honestly how all addictions are born in someone.
But gambling, nor any other substance of an addiction, will ever fill that hole. It will also never obtain that which I truly seek in life, which is feeling God’s joy and peace within. Those two things can never be won through a slot machine, a blackjack table, a bottle of booze, a needle filled with heroin, a quick roll in the hay with a stranger, or anything else that creates a temporary high.
So, I’m actually thankful I lost that $125 of play money, because I know if I had doubled or tripled it, or won even greater than that, I probably would have done my best to convince my partner we needed to immediately head to one of the local casinos to see if I could repeat my good fortune, and that alone is why this was such a greater reminder of why I don’t like to gamble…
Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson
