Remember the 'b' and the 'l' when you talk about 'gaming'.

Byline: Jack Mabley

When grandma boards the bus at the senior center to go to the casino, she isn't going to "game" $5 on the slots. She will gamble $5 on the slots.

At a nearby blackjack table, her grandson won't "game" on hitting 21. He'll gamble on it.

"Gamble" is a verb. "Gaming" is a noun.

The gambling industry has converted "gambling" - taking a chance - to "gaming" - playing a game.

The gambling industry pours so much money into Illinois legislators' campaign funds that it was a pushover to get the Illinois Gambling Board renamed the Illinois Gaming Board.

Friday I wrote about spin. Here's a classic spin by the Las Vegas bosses who control much of organized gambling.

The media go along with "gaming," to my disappointment.

To Las Vegas, owning casinos isn't a game and it certainly isn't a gamble. It's an incredibly productive cash cow.

Rod Blagojevich, who is on his way to becoming one of our best governors, would like to reclaim the casino gambling licenses that are owned by the state. They were foolishly given away when the casinos were legalized.

Riverboat casinos were authorized by the legislature to bring income to the economically depressed areas near the Mississippi River.

There were severe restrictions. The boats had to have crews and rudders and engines and to leave dockside for two-hour "cruises."

The licenses are renewable every three years. The original investors in the casinos were at some risk, but it turned out they made tens of millions on their investment.

I have advocated the auction of casino licenses since the day the law was passed.

The state was cash rich and the casino operators virtually owned the legislature, so nothing was done.

Now the state is in a financial crisis, and the governor is taking a logical and sensible step to get more money for schools and welfare and medical care.

Of course, the gambling lobby hollers bloody murder at the thought of the state claiming its property.

"Preposterous!" is the key word for the industry. Our state senators and representatives will be a bit more circumspect. They have to balance the money they get from the gamblers against the possibility their voters may think the governor has a pretty good idea.

Activists in our communities should pin down their legislators on the question.

Gambling has expanded exponentially since the Mississippi boats.

Theoretically, the law still requires water, so we now have huge casinos on solid rock foundations, but still near water and called "barges."

The Rosemont casino wasn't near water so they started building it in a huge puddle.

It is sad that our government has to depend on the lottery and gambling taxes for a large part of our income.

But our society - not just Illinois - is heading toward major dependency on gambling.

Tom Grey, the minister and gambling foe with roots in Arlington Heights, comments: "Within a decade, riverboats have slithered out of the water onto land.

"The industry in the early 1990s couldn't get citizens to accept the Las Vegas model, so they had to sanitize it with a riverboat model, a little Mark Twain riverboat. People would take a short cruise, gamble and get off."

The camel's nose was in the tent, if you'll excuse the cliche.

It isn't inappropriate to conclude with a touch of humor, a joke with three versions - Catholic, Protestant and Jewish.

I didn't get it from the Internet. This is from a Jewish friend:

A priest, a minister and a rabbi bet a few chips in a friendly card game. They were arrested.

Judge: "Father, were you gambling in that room?"

Priest: "No, your honor.

Judge: "Reverend, were you gambling in that room?"

Minister: "No, I was not."

Judge: "Rabbi, were you gambling in that room?"

Rabbi: "Who with?"