Mayo: Scenes from a Gamblers Anonymous meeting: tears, hugs and hope and recovery
Saturday, 16. April 2016
Mayo: Scenes from a Gamblers Anonymous meeting: tears, hugs and hope and recovery
Michael MayoSun Sentinel Columnist4/13/16
The 266th meeting of the Boynton Beach chapter of Gamblers Anonymous began, as usual, with readings from “the book,” a pamphlet that members clutched as they sat in a circle at the Mandel Jewish Community Center.
“We admitted we were powerless over gambling — that our lives had become unmanageable,” one attendee, a blackjack and poker junkie in his 20s, recited.
Then they spoke from their hearts.
They told of empty refrigerators and bank accounts, neglected spouses and children, bankrupted businesses and foreclosed homes. There was a former hotshot poker player who would compete in big televised tournaments in Las Vegas, but realized something was wrong when his 10-year-old son could calculate the odds of his hand winning.
There was a former record producer who once ran away from trouble in New Jersey, only to find worse trouble in Puerto Rico.
There was a woman in her 60s, a newcomer in the midst of a 30-day stay at a nearby treatment center for alcohol and drugs, who spoke of blowing through her life savings at slot machines. “I was supposed to retire tomorrow,” she said through tears. “Now I’ll have to work the rest of my life.”
On and on it went Tuesday, around the room with 45 men and five women. Some hadn’t made a bet since the 1960s; others gambled last week. One first-timer, a divorced dad raising two kids, said he’d waste his paycheck on $25 scratch-off lottery tickets.
“I can’t stand losing,” he said. “So I’d play until I won.”
Sitting up front, Arnie W nodded in recognition of Lake Worth, a compulsive gambler turned gambling counselor, invited me to attend the meeting to mark his 48th anniversary since making a bet.
At GA, they call this “a birthday,” since the day represents a spiritual rebirth. Longtime friends and gambling addicts, many of whom he helped through the years, gave him big hugs and birthday cards before the meeting.
He never played blackjack, slot machines or poker at the Seminole tribal or pari-mutuel casinos that have sprouted across South Florida in the past decade. He has never played fantasy football or baseball at popular websites such as DraftKings or FanDuel, which he sees as the next big problem in his line of work.
Arnies last bet: April 10, 1968.
At age 30, after a life of stealing and lying, he finally had enough.
In his recovery, he found a calling.
And the calling keeps calling, literally. He and wife Sheila run a gambling helpline, 1-888-LAST-BET,( aswexler.com) which guides addicts to help .As gambling has mutated in today’s high-tech world, temptation for addicts is everywhere, Arnie said. These days everyone can bet on practically anything from their smart phones, and most South Floridians live within a 30-minute drive of a casino. Wireless banking, ATMs and credit card advances provide easy fuel for problem gamblers. Lottery tickets, including those $25 scratch-offs, are sold at nearly every gas station, supermarket and corner store.
The Florida Council on Compulsive Gambling, a separate entity which gets state money to run the 1-888-ADMIT-IT helpline, has seen its volume nearly double in the last decade, from 3,000 in 2005 to 5,400 last year. Most calls, 58 percent, came from South Florida.
When arnie moved here from New Jersey in the 1990s, he said there was only one weekly GA meeting in the region. Now there are dozens, from Miami to Port St. Lucie, with meetings every night. (For a full list, go to www.gamblersanonymous.org).
Yet arnie said society lags when it comes to treating compulsive gambling, which he said affects 5 million Americans.
“Insurance does not cover gambling addiction unless a person also has an addiction to drinking or drugs,” he said. “It’s crazy.”
Casinos and racetracks have “self-exclusion” programs for gamblers who want to ban themselves, and gambling venues kick in a small portion of their revenues toward the Florida Council on Compulsive Gambling. But arnie said there’s still a long way to go with research and help.
“It’s a hidden disease,” He said. “It doesn’t leave needle marks — you can’t smell a losing bet on someone’s breath.”
The Boytnon Beach GA members have each other, and for some, it’s enough. Many attendees wore rubber bracelets that read, “One day at a time.” They stood and joined hands to close the meeting with a prayer: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.”
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READ MORE SEE THE BOOK AMAZON ”ALL BETS ARE OFF’ BY STEVE JACOBSON