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Being a gambling commentator for major online sites can have its drawbacks: I spend most of my time in jaded pleasure spas like Las Vegas, Monte Carlo, and the Bahamas. So when I received an invitation from my cousin Jonathan to spend Labor Day with his family in Smallville, their Iowa hometown, I jumped at it - finally, a chance to be with good, decent, folks!
"You sure picked the right time to get here," said Jonathan when I pulled up in front of his house, "tonight Smallville High has its opening game of the season. I'll give you their opponents and a 12 point spread!"
"Hush," said his wife, Martha. "This is no time to discuss football. We have got to get ready for the big picnic - and don't forget, Josh, tomorrow you are going to join us at church."
The whole town turned out for picnic, just like in the movies. Of course, at the time I didn't know that in Smallville "the movies" meant "Peyton Place."
"It's great to see so many of you wonderful people here today," Mayor Cornelius P. Flammer addressed the crowd. "It is a tribute to the great working men and women whose accomplishments we celebrate on Labor Day. Men who worked in the fields before the tractor was invented; who worked in the factories before they were computerized; and who helped make the casinos great by dealing even without automatic shufflers.
"But I don't want you to think that hard work and self-advancement are things of the past," the mayor continued. "Nosirree. Not here in Smallville where we still value the great American work ethic. Why, just this year, Mike Franklin, who made us all proud when he when he quarterbacked the Smallville Stalkers, made the varsity team at State U! And I'm sure that he would have gone on to be one of the NFL greats if he hadn't gotten caught betting on the other team."
"Don't forget my son!" shouted a voice from the crowd.
"Forget little Billie?" replied Flammer. "How could I ever do that? For years, Billie ran the Wheel of Fortune at every Smallville Labor Day Picnic. That experience stood him in good stead, and today he is a professional in Las Vegas, spinning the roulette wheel.
"Of course," he continued, "Billie wasn't the only one whose volunteer work at the picnic opened the doors to a career. How about Mary Spangler? She used to sell kisses for charity each year. Well, folks, I am happy to tell you that I spotted Mary when I was in Las Vegas last week, and she, too, is a pro now. And she hasn't forgotten her home town! If anybody from Smallville visits Vegas, she will be happy to give them a 25% discount."
"Well, Martha, I guess it is time that I visited Las Vegas," said Jonathan. "I sure would like to see Mary again."
"Now, hush yourself," Martha replied. "He's only joking with you, Josh. Why Mary Spangler used to be our baby sitter. Jonathan would drive her home when she finished. Funny thing is, Mary lived only about 5 minutes away but for some reason it would take over an hour before Jonathan got back."
"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Kent," said a curly-haired teenage boy. "Are you going to need me this week?"
"We sure are," said Jonathan. "Come by on Thursday."
"It will have to be in the afternoon. School starts this week and I don't want to miss any classes."
"He's such a wonderful boy," Martha said to me. "He's not only a good student but a hard worker. He takes care of our grass for us."
"Not only that," said Jonathan, "but he's even willing to roll it for us for free."
"Roll it for you?" I asked. "Why do you need your grass rolled?"
"Because Martha doesn't think that pipes are very ladylike," he replied. "She only takes her grass in joints."
"For some reason," I said, "Smallville isn't exactly what I imagined it would be like."
"You have to remember," Martha replied, "that we are just simple people here. Not like those big city sophisticates you are used to being with. Fancy city things like Margaritas and Harvey Wallbangers aren't very popular here."
With that, she took out a silver flask from her pocketbook and gulped down a few swallows of Chateau Lafitte.
"It's just for medicinal purposes," she said. "It saves me a fortune on arthritis medication."
"I didn't know that you have arthritis," I said.
"I don't ," Martha replied. "See? The Chateau Lafitte works!"
"Uh, oh," said Jonathan. "Here comes Rev. Paisley. Now you are in for it, Martha."
The reverend, a stern looking gentlemen in a dark suit, walked straight up to Martha without saying a word, took her flask from her, and sniffed it.
"I am very disappointed in you," he said.
"I know," said Martha. "I'm very sorry."
"How many times have I told that you have to stop nipping at the Chateau Lafitte?" he asked. "Bolla Bardolino is just as good and a lot less expensive."
"You're not going to give another sermon condemning me for drinking the Lafitte?" she asked. "It was very embarrassing the last time you did it - especially when you told the whole church that it is your belief that the wine that Jesus made from water was actually Bardolino."
"No," said the reverend. "I won't be giving any more sermons about wine. I got into a lot of trouble for that. The bishop heard about it and was furious. He said I had no right plugging Bardolino when I am the local importer. Personally, I think the bishop was just jealous - he's the agent for several brands of Merlot."
"Reverend, I would like you to meet my cousin Josh," said Jonathan."He is a reporter who specializes in covering gambling."
"You mean things like horse tracks and casinos?" asked Rev. Paisley. "I can't say that I approve of such goings on. Gambling is the devil's invention. It takes too much money that could go to better purposes, like giving pay raises to clergymen."
"Josh will be joining us at church tomorrow," said Martha.
"That's fine," the reverend beamed. "It is an especially good day to come. We'll be having our Labor Day special - five bingo cards for the price of four!"
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