THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, March 2, 1995 TAG: 9503020014
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A12 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Another View
SOURCE: By JOHN GOOLRICK
LENGTH: Medium: 78 lines
Back in the days when Del. Billy O'Brien was practically a lone voice in the General Assembly calling for a state-sponsored lottery, he and I used to talk about the subject a lot.
As Mr. O'Brien saw it, the lottery was ``an involuntary tax'' that could give even the poorest Virginians a shot at becoming millionaires and whose proceeds could be earmarked for such worthwhile things as student loans, helping the elderly and health care.
The way he envisioned it, the lottery would be a low-key affair that could be played for a few dollars a week. So that people wouldn't be enticed to gamble, any advertising that might offer such enticement would be prohibited.
I favored the lottery since I played it frequently in Maryland. And yet I remember several hearings when prominent economic experts warned that the experience of states with lotteries clearly demonstrated that while it might start in a low-key manner, it would inevitably be expanded and relentlessly promoted.
I thought of such warnings the other day when I read that the Virginia Lottery Commission had authorized midday Pick 3 and Pick 4 drawings in additions to the ones it has late at night. It probably got that idea from that paragon of virtuous government, Washington, D.C., which has had twice-a-day drawings for several years.
When the Virginia lottery started, the initial offerings were so-called instant tickets. They are still offered but provide a relatively small part of the lottery earnings.
The first on-line game was Lotto, a pick-six game whose top prizes range anywhere from $1 million to more than $20 million. Lotto is drawn every Wednesday and Saturday night.
Pick 3 and Pick 4 were previously drawn six nights a week, but now that number has increased to a dozen times weekly.
Not only that, but the Lottery Department has been rather blatant in its disregard for the restraint supposedly put on advertising. Just as the experts warned, after the novelty of a lottery wears off, its continued success must depend on hard-sell advertising that seeks to persuade people to play it.
For instance, when Lotto first started with million-dollar jackpots, people played in droves. At least they did until they realized if they hit only for a million, they would get it in installments of $50,000 over 20 years and even then about $17,000 in federal and state taxes would be deducted from each installment.
This caused many people to decide to play Lotto only when the jackpot exceeded a certain level such as $3.5 million or $5 million. Lately, the Lottery Department has been running commercials telling folks that a million bucks, after all, isn't chicken feed and would make a nice addition to their checking accounts.
The odds of hitting the jackpot in Lotto or Cash 5, or even picking four exact numbers out of 10,000 combinations, are exceedingly long and most never hit. Cash 5 should be more appropriately named Cash Cow since many nights there are only one or two $100,000 winners and sometimes none and, unlike Lotto, the jackpot doesn't build up.
We never read, however, about lottery losers, only the winners. For a buck or two, you can invest in a dream of sudden wealth and the lure is often irresistible.
I don't know where the hundreds of millions of dollars earned by the lottery have gone. Maybe into prisons, maybe into new state office buildings, but the funds have never been specifically earmarked as Mr. O'Brien intended.
Don't get me wrong. I play the lottery, but the escalation has caused me to change my strategy. I used to play favorite numbers, but the problem with that is you feel guilty if you miss a day of playing. So now I play computer picks and ignore Pick 3 and Pick 4 altogether.
If someone plays just a buck on every Virginia lottery game (excluding instant games), it will now cost $30 a week or approximately $1,560 a year. That's a far cry from the buck or two a week Mr. O'Brien talked about. MEMO: Mr. Goolrick, a former political reporter, is now an aide to 1st
District Rep. Herbert Bateman. Opinions expressed are his own.
by CNB