Indian tribes have a monopoly on running casinos in the State of Connecticut.
The following comes from memory: I'm way too lazy to look it up.
Anyway, the monopoly came about several years ago [;ate 1980s?], and almost accidentally. The state legislature passed a bill that was designed to give non-profit organizations the opportunity to use "Vegas nights" as a fund-raising ploy. The bill was universally understood as referring to transitory activities, not a permanent year-round activity.
But after that bill became law, a federal judge interpreted it -- apparently in conjunction with a federal statute -- as giving the tribes a right to open year-round casinos, so long as the casinos didn't include slot machines (the one game of chance that hadn't been included in the original state law).
The Mashantucket Pequots (whose tribal symbol is shown above) created their no-slots casino at once. It was Foxwoods, a reference to said tribal iconology: and a big hit: big enough a hit that the revenue of the state's own daily numbers operation was apparently suffering as Connecticut residents used their throw-it-away money elsewhere. The state was soon faced with a choice: rework the law to close the loophole and close down the casinos, or rework it to cut itself in for some of the revenue.
The charities who were benefitting from their Vegas nights lobbied hard against any change that might hurt them.
The state went the other way. It used its one lever: the absence of slot machines in the Pequot casino. Connecticut promised to legalize slots, putting the Pequots into the gaming-world big time at a stroke, IF the state got a percentage of the slots revenue. The percentage eased the state's pain about the loss of money on the daily numbers.
Anyway, the Pequots and since then another tribe as well, have enjoyed their slot machine and casino privileges. I recall getting into some fun exchanges in the letters section of local newspapers back when all this was novel and controversial. I would defend them against idiots who would decry the awfulness of gambling and suggest the rest of the state should boycott them.
I'm not going anywhere with this: I just enjoy a trip down memory lane now and then.
The following comes from memory: I'm way too lazy to look it up.
Anyway, the monopoly came about several years ago [;ate 1980s?], and almost accidentally. The state legislature passed a bill that was designed to give non-profit organizations the opportunity to use "Vegas nights" as a fund-raising ploy. The bill was universally understood as referring to transitory activities, not a permanent year-round activity.
But after that bill became law, a federal judge interpreted it -- apparently in conjunction with a federal statute -- as giving the tribes a right to open year-round casinos, so long as the casinos didn't include slot machines (the one game of chance that hadn't been included in the original state law).
The Mashantucket Pequots (whose tribal symbol is shown above) created their no-slots casino at once. It was Foxwoods, a reference to said tribal iconology: and a big hit: big enough a hit that the revenue of the state's own daily numbers operation was apparently suffering as Connecticut residents used their throw-it-away money elsewhere. The state was soon faced with a choice: rework the law to close the loophole and close down the casinos, or rework it to cut itself in for some of the revenue.
The charities who were benefitting from their Vegas nights lobbied hard against any change that might hurt them.
The state went the other way. It used its one lever: the absence of slot machines in the Pequot casino. Connecticut promised to legalize slots, putting the Pequots into the gaming-world big time at a stroke, IF the state got a percentage of the slots revenue. The percentage eased the state's pain about the loss of money on the daily numbers.
Anyway, the Pequots and since then another tribe as well, have enjoyed their slot machine and casino privileges. I recall getting into some fun exchanges in the letters section of local newspapers back when all this was novel and controversial. I would defend them against idiots who would decry the awfulness of gambling and suggest the rest of the state should boycott them.
I'm not going anywhere with this: I just enjoy a trip down memory lane now and then.
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