Although I’d been to Las Vegas a number of times, it was only recently that I got around to visiting Atlantic City. My wife, Cynthia, went with me. Not because she’s a whiz at blackjack or craves the delicious unpredictability of the roulette wheel, but to make sure I didn’t gamble away that month’s mortgage payment.

I had reserved us a room for the weekend in one of the hotel/casinos on the boardwalk, and two hours after checking in, having showered and relaxed a bit, we were downstairs in the casino, me at a five-dollar blackjack table and Cyn at a slot machine. I was pretty much holding my own when suddenly the dealer got red-hot, hitting nineteen or better on eight consecutive hands to reduce my holdings considerably. I was down to my last fifteen dollars when my wife came over carrying a large... Read More