Casino debt charity? Quite the gamble

The annoying thing about charity is that so much of it winds up going to the poor.

How lucky we are to have a board of county commissioners with the courage to look beyond the hungry and homeless and give a helping hand to our downtrodden casinos.

Just six months ago, these Samaritans slashed taxes on gaming establishments.

Such a magnanimous act would be enough for most public servants.

At the Spokane County Courthouse, however, the good deeds keep a-rollin’ like dice on a craps table.

On Tuesday, the commission will consider a proposal to waive a $7,000 penalty levied against Aces Casino when it failed to pay taxes on last year’s third-quarter gaming receipts.

Forgiveness is indeed divine.

Thank Commissioner St. Mark Richard – the patron saint of jackpots – for this brilliant move. He requested reconsideration on the penalty.

“I’d hate to see them disappear if there’s something we can do to keep them,” St. Mark said of Aces in a recent news story. “I think we’d send a very clear message that it will be a one-time occurrence.”

Or until the next bailout, St. Mark means.

Sadly, not everyone has achieved this level of grace.

My dear sweet 83-year-old mother, for example.

“I wish someone would forgive my property taxes,” she said, when I told her what the commission was up to.

Mom, stop being selfish.

This is no time to think about our own piddling finances.

Not when there are casinos in need.

Whenever I feel too caught up in my own personal problems I have this little ritual I go through. In a quiet meditative moment, I look deep within myself and ask:

What would St. Mark do?

The answer came to me Friday. The spirit led me to drive to Division and Francis to make a donation to Aces Casino.

I sat down at a Spanish21 table. I bought $20 worth of chips.

Having never played Spanish21, I felt a little anxious. As it turned out there was nothing to fear.

This nice casino lady gave me a sheet of paper outlining all the Spanish21 rules.

These casinos think of everything.

“The FUN is BACK!” the sheet stated.

It sure is.

In no time I was playing Spanish21 just like I play boring old-fashioned 21.

What I mean by that is:

1. I bet a few chips on each hand.

2. I carefully examine my cards as they are dealt.

3. I decide whether to take another card or stand.

4. Within 20 minutes or so my chip pile vanishes like the Colts’ dreams of a perfect football season.

The other players at my table appeared to be in a pretty giving mood, too.

But all was not lost. That same nice casino lady comped me a $15 coupon for use in the house restaurant.

It was because the Spanish21 table wasn’t open on time, and I had a bit of a wait before I got to lose my 20 bucks.

“Luck, be a lady tonight. Luck, be a lady toniiiiight!”

Maybe St. Mark and I could use the coupon during a lunchtime brainstorming session. Together, I’ll bet we can come up with even more creative ways to bend over for the gaming industry.

I know. We could organize a big televised concert for gambling den debt relief.

Casino Aid, we could call it.

It’s only fair. Casinos and card parlors and bingo halls do so much to make society a better place.

They offer comfortable warm and dry spaces where our elderly can invest their retirement funds.

Many casinos are on the forefront of buffet technology.

Some offer the very best in big name has-been entertainment.

So bless you, St. Mark. In the card deck of life, you are an ace in the hole.