"TONE DEAF" doesn't begin to describe the suggestion from state Senate Majority Leader Bill DeWeese, D-Greene, to expand the original gambling law to add table games like blackjack and roulette to the 14 slots parlors authorized by the commonwealth.
Given the steaming pot of trouble that the two casinos approved for Philadelphia have become, DeWeese's idea is a little like suggesting that we wash down a poison pill with a nice big glass of carbolic acid.
The two Philadelphia casinos approved by the State Gaming Board in November have fermented into a strong neighborhood protest, not only over the siting of the two casinos, but over the state's Big Foot mandate of gambling as a revenue source. Although there were public hearings during the licensing process, the big question - the wisdom of using gambling as a governmental solution to funding shortfalls - was never put on the table for full public discussion.
(California Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger is now seeing the same battle heating up there.)
The unrest has also crept into City Hall. Last week, at-large City Councilman Juan Ramos introduced bills to approve the plan of development for SugarHouse casino and create a Commercial Entertainment District; Ramos' action was a rare case of an at-large member stepping into the jurisdiction of a district councilman. Frank DiCicco has dug in his heels on legislative action until the pending lawsuits are resolved.
A decision is expected by the state Supreme Court in the next few weeks, but it's hard to see that this will close the doors on all future lawsuits.
Meanwhile, there's a storm of competing interests. The state wants its revenues. The city doesn't want to be pre-empted on important zoning decisions. The casino operators want to build their facilities, and make their deadlines for pouring money into the state coffers. The neighborhoods don't want casinos in their back yards.
It's going to take political leadership to help resolve these issues once and for all. DeWeese's suggestion for expanding casinos is either a signal that the city's angst over casinos hasn't gone beyond the boundaries of the neighborhoods in question, or a much ruder, in-your-face gesture.
Leadership, it isn't. *