Risky business THE LESSON we should learn from the risk Junior Minister Errol Ennis took is not that one should never gamble, nor that one should never fly a kite as he did. No, it is that you should never accept payment of a gambling debt with a cheque or promissory note. There's nothing wrong with gambling. Nothing that's not just as wrong with alcohol, drugs, hazardous sex, religious zealotry, illegal immigration, crime, driving cars and motorbikes or anything else that people get carried away with. As long as it's all done in moderation, it's fine. One can argue that gambling is a good thing and should've been legalised a long time ago. Casinos would mean lots of work, bring foreigners and their money into the country, buying land, building houses and businesses. We'd all benefit in the long run as tourism becomes our major industry. Perhaps we should develop resorts purely for the purpose. If so Port Antonio would be the perfect place to start. The infrastructure is already in place as it has been a centre of drugs and corruption for years. One Mayor of Port Antonio was even alleged to have housed kilos of cocaine in his home and the police were so corrupt they were once replaced lock, stock and barrel. Navy Island could have a casino, another could go at Trident Castle and yet another at Dragon Bay. (The fact I'm suggesting the rain forest parish is not because it's where the good Junior Minister hails from, that's a coincidence.) Portland's Amazon climate makes for good business. Gambling is one form of entertainment unaffected by the weather. Rain can fall, lightning flash and thunder roll, as long as the dice roll, cards fall, wheels spin and lights blink to show cash flashing, no one cares what's happening outside. In fact the worse it is outside, the more people stay inside spending money. Portie is also favourite because of the grandeur of the houses on Fairy Hill and Goblin Hill. They look like they were built with money made by risk takers. If gambling took off, imagine how many times a night one of those palaces could change hands. Jamaica could do the same as the USA and grant gambling licences to Native Jamaicans. Indigenous people, robbed of a homeland by European marauders could get casinos on Arawak Reservations. Imagine the races, shades and shapes who would claim to be an Arawak for a licence. ARAWAK: "Yeah, me have one Arawak Reservation down in Meadowbrook." GOVERNMENT: "You look Chinese." ARAWAK: "Me is a Chinawak. Related to the Arawak, from Hong Kong." Let's face it everyone loves a gamble! You have to if you're going anywhere in this life. In the next life too. There are no guarantees we're going to heaven or that there is a Valhalla at all. We've only got the word of the dude in the pulpit, the one on the telly and the folk knocking at your door or cycling past to assure us that paradise awaits. Their assurance is reliant on us spending a fair bit of time and a good amount of money in their church or congregation. That's the ante. That's the bet we place. We pray to play. The more prayers you push in the slot, the less sins you perform, the better your chance of a payout come judgment day. We would have to be careful of the waste related to the casinos though. If people threw away money like we throw away fast food the New Kingston rats could grow up to 200 lbs and have spending money. Next thing you know they are in the casinos, smoking, drinking and carousing with our women. Just one big bad loss and we'd hear, "You dirty rat. You bounced a cheque!" Here are two things to remember if you ever bet: Never take advice from someone who's not betting. Chances are they've already lost their money. Never bet to pay your rent or feed your family. You'll never win that way. Never! Tony Hendriks can be reread at www.JamaicanPaleface.com or e-mailed and roundly chastised via JamaicanPaleface@aol.com.
|
