Urban Legends
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Permalink Reply by irieb on -
The Las Vegas Vagrant (Shoeless Joe)
Nobody knows where he came from. Nobody knows were he has gone. But for a week at the beginning of April the man they called "Shoeless Joe" was the talk of this town of broken dreams, his astonishing run of luck the buzz of the blackjack tables.
On April 2, an 80-year-old man with a metal walking stick described by everyone who met him as hunched, bald, ugly, smelly, with broken glasses, a long pointed chin and terrible teeth shuffled shoeless past the normally watchful security guards at the faux buccaneer portals of Treasure Island, one of most expensive new casinos.
In his pocket he had a $400 government social security cheque, which he cashed at the casino's bank. Then he began playing the tables, trying to beat the house to 21. Within a week, in a run of luck few in Vegas can recall ever having heard the likes of, Shoeless Joe had built up a kitty of $1.6m.
As much as anything, though, it was the style in which he did it that shocked people in a town which long ago became unshockable. Shoeless Joe hurled an almost continuous stream of obscenities at the dealers, particularly the women, on the few occasions when the cards went against him. His diet at the table consisted of Jack Daniels and Coke, fat cigars and takeaway pork chops.
What was the secret of Shoeless Joe's success? Playing on a six-deck table, which is shuffled every four or five hands, and against dealers who are changed every half-hour, with management watching his every gesture on security cameras above every table, everyone agreed there was no way Shoeless Joe could have been playing a system, counting or cheating.
What Shoeless Joe had, apart from incredible luck, was a reckless contempt for the normally accepted conventions of how to play blackjack.
"He was the worst player I ever saw and the luckiest player I ever saw," said one of the dealers he played against, a croupier since 1953. Starting the week on the tables, Shoeless Joe was soon playing three hands at a time, staking and usually winning all three. "When he got up over $1m he ran into the buffet shouting 'I'm a millionaire! I'm a millionaire!'"
"He did it all wrong," agreed another dealer. "He would double down on 12s and 13s, and he would always split 10s. That's stupid, crazy." Dealing cards again last week across the green baize of the blackjack table, she added: "That man, he was the meanest man I ever saw. He called us terrible names. Maybe he made a pact with the devil."
Whatever Faustian pact he may have made, Shoeless Joe did sign a contract with Steve Wynn, owner of Treasure Island and the Mirage, who bought up the film rights to his story for $10,000. The money, however, seems to have found its way back into Wynn's capacious pockets faster than his blackjack gamblers can say "bust".
Even the devil's luck runs out against the odds of the house. Just like the other gambling enthusiasts, whose losses have built this improbable town in the middle of the desert and the immense fortunes of people such as Wynn who own it, Shoeless Joe won all that money only to lose it all again.
Of course he was helped immeasurably by the gracious attention casino management pays to big winners. As the old man's winnings began climbing towards the million mark, the casino began "comping" him lavishly, providing more than the complimentary drinks on offer to all the other patrons at their tables.
He got a suite of rooms, a limousine longer than three roulette tables to take him on shopping binges, and round-the-clock bodyguards who tended to his every need. Although they might not have been instructed specifically to make sure he did not try to gamble away the money he had won at Treasure Island at another casino, they were no doubt gratified that he did not.
"Yeah he's broke, completely broke," said another Treasure Island blackjack dealer last week. "They got it all back. Every cent." -
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Permalink Reply by irieb on
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Hawaiian legend - anyone that removes a piece of rock from the Hawaiian Volcanoes National Park will incur the wrath of the Godess Pele. Supposedly terrible curses follow those that do prompting them to soon abandon the rock(s) in interest of self-preservation.
Origins: Can a souvenir casually pocketed on a Hawaiian beach bring misfortune? Though the more skeptical will scoffingly dismiss the notion as pure hooey, thousands have come to believe that yes, volcanic rocks taken from Hawaii fetch with them a curse of impressive proportions. And the only way to undo the jinx is to return the purloined items whence they came.
Legend has it that Pele, goddess of fire and volcanoes, is so angered when the rocks (which she sees as her children) are taken from her that she exacts a terrible revenge on the thief. She is especially protective of volcanic rock and sand, two items tourists almost unthinkingly pocket as mementos of their vacations. After all, who would miss a rock?
Pele, apparently. Hawaii Volcanoes National Park and far too many hotels to name receive a never-ending stream of packages containing sand, shells, and rocks from guilty-minded vacationers who are intent upon reversing their sudden downpours of bad luck. Many of these returns are accompanied by notes begging forgiveness of the goddess or detailing litanies of calamities that have befallen these casual purloiners:
Please take this sand and put it back somewhere on your island. I have had very bad luck since it came into my life and I am very sorry I took it. Please forgive me and I pray that once I send it back where it comes from, my bad luck will go away.
Please return to soil. I have been having bad luck.
Ever since we have taken items, we have had nothing but back luck and medical problems. We apologize for taking items, so we are returning same to Hawaii.
We placed the rock last fall on a cast iron chair in our garden, this spring the chair's leg had fallen off. This is the least of the problems we have had since we have taken the rock.
Pele's supposed curse is not a mild-mannered one. Those allegedly afflicted by it don't misplace their car keys or develop runs in their bad
luck is of the grievous variety. Pets die. Jobs are lost. Houses burn down. Sudden and devastating illness strikes loved ones. Marriages break apart.
The Los Angeles Times reported on the sad case of Timothy Murray, a 32-year-old who scooped some of the unusual black sand from Hawaii Volcanoes National Park into a bottle and brought it back with him to Florida. Everything in his life immediately went into a nosedive: his pet died, his five-year relationship with a gal he was to marry ended, and the FBI arrested him in a computer copyright infringement case.
The native Hawaiian view of taking such souvenirs is that it's tantamount to stealing from Pele while visiting her home. Only the return of the stolen items appeases her wrath.
Some believe the curse is the invention of park rangers who became fed up with visitors making off with little bits of the island. Whether the curse has an ancient origin or a modern one, many have come to respect it thanks to the cascade of bad luck that descends upon those who take volcanic keepsakes.
Barbara "rock steadied" Mikkelson -
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Permalink Reply by irieb on
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Additional info on this Legend:
http://www.volcanogallery.com/lavarock.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pele_(mythology)
If anyone is planning a trip to the island - play it safe - leave that rock where you found it..... -
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