“LET IT GO”

Trophies, movies and mumbo-jumbo seize State House

By PAUL MCMORROW

del.ico.us | digg it! | reddit!

print | email | 0 Comments

People like to say that state government doesn't do anything. People obviously weren't at the State House last Wednesday. It was a hell of a day, with tales of crippling addiction competing for attention with Hollywood cameras and the World Champion Boston Red Sox. Obviously, we were there to take it all in.

The first stop was Gardner Auditorium, where Rep. Dan Bosley had called a hearing to highlight gambling addiction. Bosley, a prominent gambling opponent, had convened his economic development committee alongside the committee on mental health and substance abuse. Their Senate counterparts chose not to attend.

The House committees met in an "informational hearing," said Rep. Ruth Balser, House chair of the committee on substance abuse. "There is no bill being considered before us."

Casino supporters had complained, rather loudly, that the addiction hearing was the House's way of spiking Governor Deval Patrick's typo-ridden gambling bill before it ever saw the light of day. Balser refuted this notion by calling the hearing educational, not deliberative, and asking that, while discussing all the evil, evil things legalized gambling causes, individuals refrain from citing Patrick's proposal.

"The governor's bill will be heard later," Balser pleaded. She then ceded the mic to a troika of Patrick officials who, in great depth, promoted the public health protections written into the governor's casino bill.

Health and Human Services Secretary JudyAnn Bigby said Patrick's bill had been formulated to "optimize social benefits" while preventing and diminishing social costs. She and her colleagues repeatedly touted a proposed public health trust fund as the "most aggressive" regulatory effort in the country to combat gambling addiction.

Michael Botticelli, director of the state's Bureau of Substance Abuse Services, went further. He said that any social costs would be impossible, and that doomsday studies about addiction should not be given absolute credence, then touted "some research" suggesting "that there is a beneficial aspect to gambling in promoting mental and social stimulation and might act as a buffer against the development of more severe mental health issues, particularly with the elderly." After all, he said, gambling "is a form of play," and play has health benefits. This was not, he warned, intended "to diminish the negative impacts" of gambling. But, you know, why wouldn't you want grandma to have some healthy fun?

If Bosley and Balser's hearing was indeed a preemptive strike against gambling, the governor's office must've reasoned that turnabout is fair play: they scheduled a ceremony with the Red Sox on the State House's front steps to begin just as anti-gambling testimony would've begun to get ugly. In fact, the timing of the two events appeared to depress turnout at the gambling hearing-organizers had booked the State House's largest room, though a scant handful of legislative staff and onlookers attended. It was probably just a coincidence, though.

At least one of the members of Bosley's committee was spied sneaking out of the hearing and heading outside, where he joined hundreds of officials and staffers (don't tell Howie Carr). Reps danced to "Dirty Water," "Sweet Caroline," "Crazy Train" and the Bush hit "Machinehead," while governor's office staff grabbed plum spots along the third floor balcony. Sox catchers Jason Varitek and Doug Mirabelli greeted the crowds, and were accompanied by a pair of World Series trophies, team owners and officials.

Patrick, who'd run into some difficulty when quizzed about the Olde Towne Team the week before, thanked the Sox "for the lift you've given the city and the Commonwealth," and for getting the word out about the state's health care reform law. He was, in turn, heckled by Frank from Gloucester, the notorious Yankee-loving WEEI caller. "Let it go, man," Patrick told the gentleman in the "Foxy Lady #1" hat.

As Tom Werner took the mic, staffers in heels and Chanel earrings chanted "Re-sign Lowell!" "There's been a lot of talk about re-signing people lately," he retorted, unsteadily. "I'd like to re-sign Deval Patrick and Sal DiMasi and Therese Murray for their great leadership." There was a confused silence, followed by chants of "re-sign Lowell!"

The rally broke up, and state officials and their aides alternately broke for lunch, or for the Senate Reading Room, where fans posed for pictures alongside the two trophies. A floor below, wires snaked around Nurse's Hall and the Hall of Flags, which techs from the Pink Panther II had transformed into London and the Vatican, respectively. (Spoiler alert: Valuables get stolen from both locales!!)

Back inside a still nearly empty auditorium, Bosley and Balser took testimony on the extensive evils of slot machines.

Dr. Natasha Schull, an MIT researcher who has studied slots extensively, testified that the machines' software has been engineered in such a way as to, in the industry's terms, get gamblers to "play to extinction." As in, until they're shit broke. Because outcomes are controlled electronically, rather than depending on mathematical probability, she likened it, alternately, to playing with loaded dice and smoking crack.

Schull also testified that over 90% of Gamblers Anonymous players she'd encountered in Las Vegas were there for slots addiction; slots were "usually their first addiction."

"I would dispute that, not knowing any facts at all," interjected Rep. Marty Walsh. "I wouldn't publish that."

Later, Rep. Brian Wallace threw a scare into reporters when he claimed that the hearing's testimony had put him "on the fence now." Really, he was asked? "No." In fact, he claimed that pro-casino "momentum is building" in the House; asked about Schull's testimony, he said, "She's talking about subliminal messages ... A lot of that mumbo-jumbo went over my head."