Dear Joe,
For over a year I dated a wonderful guy. I can't exactly remember why we broke up but we had a great time while we were together. Lately, I've considered contacting him again to see if there is any spark left. Should I bother or should I move on?
Dear A.W.,
It will shock many people to hear that I was not always the saintly, upstanding evangelical that I am today. I've been bad, very bad. And when a Southern Baptist boy turns bad it usually involves one of the Gerund Temptations - drinking, dancing, gambling, or cavorting (with wild women). Since I'm a light-weight with two left feet and a face like a Picasso painting, my choice of sins was limited to gambling.
In East Texas, though, the opportunities for wagering are limited. All you really have are football pools (where you can bet on the Longhorns and consistently lose) and bingo halls (or, as one priest I knew called them, "Catholic Casinos").
It wasn't until I moved to Washington State that I was exposed to the world of casino gambling. The casinos in Washington, however, are quite different than the ones you'll find in Las Vegas. In a Vegas casino you find bright lights, free drinks, and an ambiguously gay magician working in the theater down the hall. In Washington, the casinos are dreary, dumpy, depressing, and relegated to the Indian reservations.
Now if you're like me you might not initially associate gambling with Indians. I'm still unclear exactly how the tribes got to America from India much less how they developed games of chance. Apparently though, when they crossed the Pacific Ocean they brought with them such native customs as keno and roulette.
Gambling was illegal throughout the rest of the state so I was curious why the Indians got an exemption. "The White Man stole all our land," a craps dealer explained, "and this is what we get in return." Sounds like a raw deal until you see how much loot the casinos rack in. With the money I lost to them they could buy back Eastern Oklahoma.
My gambling career started in the worst way possible: I won. If I had lost I would have been provided a quick, albeit painful, lesson. Instead, I won. Won quite a lot actually. Won more money than I make (or will ever make for that matter) as a blogger. I wondered why everyone didn't just quit their jobs and gamble for a living. It was so easy.
But that soon passed. My affair with Lady Luck ended abruptly when she started two-timing me with the blackjack dealer. The breakup was ugly and emotional but it taught me a lot. For instance, I learned the only thing more pathetic than a grown man crying is a grown man crying while being carried to his car on the shoulder of a burly casino worker whose last name ends in an animal.
It's not exactly like I had a gambling "problem" since I always knew when to quit. I would quit as soon as the balance in my checking account dropped to zero. But I realized while being dropped onto the hood of my Geo Metro by Billy Big Bear that it would have been better if I had let go sooner.
As the great philosopher Kenny Rogers once said, you have to know when to hold them and know when to fold them. So you had a great time and now its over. You can roll the dice again and hope for the best or walk away from the table with fond memories.
I say let it go. True, you won't know what could have been. But regrets, like drawing to an inside straight, are underrated.
(Disclaimer: I would like to apologize if this column has offended any of the following groups: Catholics, Native Americans, Indians, or ambiguously gay magicians. I would also like to apologize to all Baptists for having to be associated with me.)
I really like your humor pieces. The "ask Joe" posts are great.
mildly humorous, but what does the answer have to do with the question?
Joe is suggesting that if you have an addiction, quit it.
To try re-hook up with a person to see if there is a spark left is comparable to a gambling addict bellying up to a black-jack table to see if there is a spark of luck left even when the spark had burned out ages before.
The story is amusing and sad at the same time.
We humans find ourselves mercilessly enslaved by what we thought would be harmless fun. If we are lucky, our particular brand of enslavement will merely lead to an empty bank account.
There are other brands of enslavement that lead to early graves.
Of course, empty bank accounts can lead to early graves, too. Financial stress can be literally life-shortening.
Seriously, I'm reminded of a verse in Jeremiah: "My people have committed two evils. They have forsaken Me, the fount of living waters, and they have hewn for themselves cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold no water." So many times I find myself going back to one of my (several) broken cisterns, trying to find... something. So many times I learn, yet again, that there's really nothing there.
Amusing is good. Beats having a politician say: no really. I'm serious. I really want you to pay me to bribe you with some garbage you would not bother getting up out of your easy chair to throw out. What's funny, the politician continues, is that after taking the time and effort to complain about my methods to your neighbor, you'll vote for me anyway...