This noble prize-winning columnist is going to tell you a secret, maybe two or three. But before that, I must draw to your attention, if I've hypnotized you lo, these many weeks, that I just subliminally planted in your brain an enhanced image of moi. Noble prize-winning columnist is so close to Nobel Prize-winning — indeed, the letters match — that I bet you slowed down and wondered: Did he really win a Nobel?
I thought of that the other day when a columnist referred to himself as a prize-winning newspaper editor. Sooooooo, I wondered, what did he win? The lottery? A bet? A golf tournament? A Nobel Prize? Maybe he just won a toy in a claw machine.
Which brings THIS prize-winning columnist to the secret I promised to reveal: My name is Mike, and, although I sometimes do noble things I’m addicted to claw machines.
But I win a lot of prizes playing them, so that justifies my path on the road to perdition, right?
At first, my family was amused, to the extent that both son Brendan and stepdaughter Melissa bought me toy claw machines a couple of years back. Coincidentally, ironically, without even communicating.
They became less amused when the toy machines fed the monster, fueled my addiction, plunging me into the depths of my pockets in search of quarters whenever I spied a claw machine out of the corner of my eye. (Oh, there were other advantages: Vincent, Jack and Luke and I have had lots of fun trying to snag the candy I put in the toy machines. When we hit a losing streak, we eventually just upend the machines and eat the spilled candy to our hearts’ contents. That makes the dentist the winner when he sticks his claws in our maws.)
To my credit, I use my addiction to help the less fortunate. A couple of Christmases ago, I was able to give a bunch of stuffed animals to a group that provides presents for the less fortunate. And my grandsons have enough stuffed bears and dogs and reindeers and Santas and frogs and snakes to last a lifetime.
To my discredit, I DID reach the point where I let the machines control me rather than I, them. I hit bottom when I spent 10 hard-earned bucks and walked away from a machine empty-handed. Actually, that might have been fortunate because my palms were so sweaty they would have wrecked the toys, if I’d have won.
I knew, when my family started whispering about the need for intervention, that I would have to mend my ways. And I would have to do it alone, because nobody has invented Claworette gum, and mine seems to be such a rare malady that cancer, heart disease, hangnails and other diseases have priority when it comes to research grants.
I’ve made progress in controlling my passion, though. My epiphany came during a trip to a store of a global retail chain I otherwise shun. I went on a streak in which I snagged a baker’s dozen prizes for less than 15 bucks over a two-day period, during trips to that store for items I didn’t need or articles I made up that we did need.
Here comes another secret: The key to my success was that this particular chain has machines in which you can drag the claw even after you drop it, so you can maneuver the item you want into better position for the NEXT try. It makes it more like a pool game, in which you have to plot the carom and try to make the toy land in a vulnerable position.
And THAT, my friends, turns it into a game of skill, rather than chance. Most claw machines out there are called that because they claw the money out of your pockets, your bank account, your children’s trust funds. Why, they can clear you out faster than the recent stock market patterns have decimated 401(k)s. They make Bernie Madoff seem like a Ponzi piker when it comes to schemes.
These days, I stick pretty much to the claw machines in this particular chain. Even though this column is all about revealing secrets, I won’t reveal the chain’s name because that family already has more money than God and it can buy its own advertising. (Let The Boss take it on for hitting a sour note with it.)
Besides, now, it’s got a competitor. I found a user-friendly machine in a grocery store the other day. I approached it dubiously, as the claw didn’t look like it was big enough to retrieve the size of stuffed toys it held. (That’s the trick many claw companies use: small claws with toys that are too heavy to lift, or even grasp.)
Imagine my surprise, though, when I won a large cowboy bear on my first try. OK, call it a fluke: The claw got caught on the bear’s lasso, and barely kept it aloft long enough to plunk into the prize chute. The next time I went to that store, I tried again, and bingo, got one on the fourth try. The next time, another.
I can just hear you challenging me: Yeah, SUCKA, betcha spent a ton of money. Nope, impossible, because part of my recovery is limiting myself to no MORE than 2 bucks a session. Well, sometimes 3.
No more spending ’til I win. Rather, I’ve developed the character, the integrity, the inner strength, the intestinal fortitude, the guts, to just walk away.
Also part of my recovery is to preach the perils of the machines: PLEASE, if at all possible, don’t get addicted like I have. But if you do, and you MUST, limit yourself and follow these additional secrets:
* Don’t get all jazzed if you see a machine newly filled with toys. That’s the worst time to play, because the toys are all scrunched together and impossible to retrieve. (By accident, I think NOT. That’s how the house stacks the odds.)
* Don’t let the machine beat your psyche. If you come up empty several times, analyze each loss and see how that knowledge can lead to success. Remember, it’s like pool now: Think three steps ahead, to get ahead of the claw, to outthink it, to plunder and pillage its contents.
* If you’re fortunate enough to find a machine that will let you drag, use that to your full advantage. Best method is what I call toppleganger: Topple your pick the first time, and then go gangbusters to get it on the next try.
* Similarly, don’t lose heart if you actually grab an item but the claw drops it when its thisclose to the chute. Instead, determine the odds of getting it on your next try. But have the courage to walk away.
* ALSO, don’t get frustrated if the claw drops a toy into the chute, but the toy gets snagged on the edge, ready to drop. THIS IS THE ONLY TIME it’s acceptable to go over your limit. DO NOT WALK AWAY. If you’re out of money, get some somehow, some way, even if you have to knock an old lady down and grab whatever change clanks out of her purse. Because the key then — I guarantee this, because it’s worked twice for me — is to play one more time. But don’t try for another toy; instead, just clunk the claw down on your prize, and it will loosen it from the machine’s grasp.
So, to return to the beginning: I think deserve the Nobel Prize, because I demystified the claw machine, and I was noble enough to share some of the secrets to solving its mysteries. That’s my contribution to peace.
As for me, I think I’ll buy some stock in claw machines.
No comments:
Post a Comment