Bill Bledsoe's letter arrived at my desk the same day Broward County voters approved slot machines. While
voters here were welcoming slots, Bledsoe's letter from Florida's Panhandle debated prohibition, something
the rest of us decided in 1933.
Curious, I called him.
Bledsoe is the new chairman of the Prohibition Party in Florida. He puts liquor and slot-machine gambling in
the same category: "Bad for the family. They destroy families."
But he can't worry about our slots. He is too busy trying to keep booze out of his back yard, Santa Rosa
County, which is fighting petitions to set an election asking voters if liquor should be sold. Right now if you
are thirsty for hooch, you've got to drive to Pensacola, about 40 minutes from Bledsoe's home. Some business
interests want Santa Rosa to go from dry to wet.
A Republican committeeman until a few months ago, Bledsoe is on the main street of Santa Rosa politics,
though he may seem a bit extreme to us. But to Bledsoe, Broward's embrace of slot machines is extreme. A
lot of Floridians agree with him.
State Rep. Randy Johnson, leader of the anti-slots forces, is a Republican from Central Florida near Walt
Disney World. Johnson, no extremist, says his neighbors see slot machines differently from
Broward.
Even voters in Miami-Dade County saw the slots differently from Broward. They turned them down.
It's Broward that is unusual. It's Broward that is odd.
The most Democratic county in this Republican state, many Floridians already think Broward is a lair of
wild-eyed liberals. After last Tuesday, Broward is also a place where gamblers will be lured to throw away
their children's lunch money on slot machines.
Or so the thinking goes in much of the state.
Slot machines can only make the political situation worse for Broward in Tallahassee. The Legislature will
regulate the new slots. Members will decide how many will be permitted and the hours they are allowed to
operate. They will divide the taxes from the machines among the counties.
What is already clear is that Broward will get no special treatment from Tallahassee to compensate us for
any detrimental effects of increased gambling, vows House Speaker Allan Bense.
We can't expect much help from the Broward Legislative delegation, either. The Democrat-laden delegation
didn't have much clout in Tallahassee before Tuesday and might have even less influence on slots, which
many legislators view as a moral issue.
State Rep. Ron Greenstein's initial comments after Tuesday's referendum show how out of touch some
Broward legislators are with the realities in Tallahassee. The Coconut Creek Democrat announced he will
seek regulations to let casinos to operate 24 hours a day. "I'm trying for the most liberal position as a
negotiating tool," he says.
Maybe. But around-the-clock operations are something that even pari-mutuel folks rejected not even a week
ago!
And me? I'm fearful that Broward's new love of slots will ruin this county's reputation further in Tallahassee.
We will be stigmatized as slot-loving kooks.
If I were lobbying for Broward in Tallahassee, I would remind the legislative leaders that only 10 percent of
Broward's 1 million registered voters approved slots. Eight percent voted against slots, and the rest stayed
home.
I would beg the legislators who disapprove of slots not to take it out on Broward. We are as much a part of
Florida as the Panhandle. We are as much a part of Florida as Bill Bledsoe and his Prohibition Party.
But the legislative leadership probably won't listen. After all, I'm just another nut from Broward County.