I have spent the last several years doing research on the folly of gambling. How easy to fall into that trap. "Just one more bet and I will be even or ahead." Fifty minutes from my front door lies that mecca in the desert. An easy drive on a good highway and soon I forget all about my everyday problems and woes. Work, home, family, money, people, dentists, pets, telemarketers are all forgotten. For five or six straight hours, I lead a different life. Few people know about my night life. I don't talk about it in the daytime. I actually like the other creatures of the night. There are no clocks, no time frames, no bosses harassing anyone, just the next roll of the dice, turn of the card or pull of the handle.

Life can be rough and stressful. Reading the daily news can be depressing. An escape like mine can be good for your outlook. It's cheaper then a psychiatrist. It gives one something to look forward to and there's always the chance that tonight you could be the lucky one. Then all the money spent on years of research could be deducted against this one big win. For now, it's my secret.

One time I got home at 2 a.m. and had to chase an escaped hamster around the house. My stress came back. The hamster from hell had chewed up the insulation from under stove to make a nest. Around and around the house in the middle of the night is not relaxing and conducive to sleep. Want to bet next week will be better?

At the end, I even got religious. Please, Lord, just one royal flush and I'll go home. The church gets ten percent. How about twenty percent? It's also a good diet plan. You can't leave your spot long enough to eat. You can't leave your machine. It has all your money in it and if you leave someone else will come along and get it. I've seen it happen.

Cohorts are easy to come by. They think exactly the same as you do. People who try to interfere get weeded out of your circle of friends. Your free them to pursue their own interests. Their interests are different than yours. These people really aren't any fun anyway.

"Page? What page? I didn't hear any page. Go away." It happened to my grandma at this age. Auntie took her to Vegas for the first time and couldn't get her away from the machines. "Come on, Mom. It's time to eat," Auntie pleaded. "Get away from me." She couldn't get grandma away to eat, sleep or take her heart medicine.

My little old grandma had the time of her life at age 62 playing nickel machines. Then Monday morning she went back to work to tell the girls about her new adventure.