Seby Cordova is Sandia Casino’s newest millionaire, and that’s great news for all.
    A million dollars is a 1 followed by six zeroes. It’s the amount of bread few of us can expect to earn in a lifetime.
     Now for a while, let’s forget the bird-in-hand experience in which it’s better to get a cash payout on the spot than to have it meted out in monthly or yearly installments. Getting it in one chunk enables us to take care of our own investments, whereas if we get it in, say, 30 installments, we might not live that long.

     And let’s also forget the chunk of change Uncle Sam is about to collect, thanks to the 1099 form casino workers obviously whipped out for Ms. Cordova to fill in on the spot. Most winnings get paid in installments. Over a 26-year allotment, for example, the winner stands to receive only $38,461 a year, before taxes. And when one factors in inflation, the yearly income comes closer to $27,000.
     The larger newspapers have been running a huge ad touting Cordova as the “newest millionaire,” and Albuquerque TV stations have been featuring commercials. The “newest” designation implies others have gone before her.
     To accentuate the it-couldn’t-have-happened-to-a-nicer-person aspect, the ads mention some of her plans for the money. One ad reads, “Seby said she is going to use some of the money to purchase a brand new home to replace the one she had to sell in order to cover medical expenses.” Some reader brought up the unaskable question: If Cordova’s been beset by all these financial-medical calamities, what’s she doing in the casinos? The mere fact that many people gamble will easily explain why some lose their homes. We all remember the ad that another casino reluctantly removed from the airwaves a year ago, one which encouraged people beset by after-Christmas expenses to try their luck at the gambling tables and slots.
     Well, it turns out that a man who identifies himself as Seby Cordova’s son-in-law points out that her financial setbacks are well in the past, that she’s been a model citizen, a consummate volunteer, and in short, a great person. Which we don’t deny.
     The fault then, Dear Brutus, must be in the starry content implicit in the advertisement. The ad says nothing about any kind of time-frame. To the uninitiated, it appears that Cordova’s hardship was occurring right now, and that the mega-bucks came in just in time.
     The son-in-law’s letter fills in some key information, but one would expect the casino to have taken care of that in the first place.
     So let’s congratulate her on her good fortune, commend her on being a model citizen and turn our attention back to the casinos.
     An Indian casino spent big bucks recently on commercials featuring a stud cowboy apparently apathetic to big bucks. The voice-over asks him what he’d do with the money. He says, laconically, that he’d buy a new saddle for Ol’ Paint.
     “But it’s a milllyun dollerz, Jim,” the voice intones, as Jim rides off into the sunset.
     That appeal to the public’s bandwagon approach has several flaws. First, the voice-over implies Jim has already won the money: it’s there for the taking, so why don’t you pick up the cash, stuff it into your saddlebags and go out and buy that new saddle and a stable of new horses as well?
     Perhaps unwittingly the ad agency that put together this slick commercial has demonstrated Jim’s skepticism toward winning the top prize.
     Jim, and by extension a not-so-gullible public, refuses to buy the implication that ALL of us can win a million.
     Months earlier, the “It’s a million dollerz” ploy featured four elderly customers what-iffing. What would WE do with a million dollars?
     One of them begins to boogie. Wow. Imagine four elderly New Mexicans each winning a million and an opportunity to boogie for the rest of their lives.
     The more likely scenario is that after dropping $50 or $100 into the slots, they leave, drive their modest cars to their modest homes and only dream of winning. And they plan a return trip next weekend. —
     I’d like to see a full-page color ad touting the accomplishments of a great many residents who have made Sandia Casino and the other 20-some gambling places highly successful.
     A creative designer could show “before” and “after” shots of these participants. The “before” shows him (or her) in front of the family house.
     The “after” view could show a “repossessed” sign over the front door. It could show the family car being loaded on to a Repo Depot wrecker. And the headline could read, “One of New Mexico’s newest bankruptcy victims.” Part of the series of ads may show totals rung up in consuming liquor as he tries to convince himself that “next time I’m sure to win — I can feel it.” A collage could show some of the electricity, gas and water cutoff notices from the utilities.
     And finally, how about a close-up shot of the former couple leaving the courthouse after signing a divorce decree, with the kids in the background wistfully waving goodbye to the exiled parent.
     As for Seby Cordova, we commend her on her good fortune and hope it ameliorates any financial setbacks she’s ever incurred.
     But the unfortunate reality is that too many casino advertisements imply that anyone who walks through their doors is likely to become a big winner.
     Ah, what fun that would be!