A Carlisle couple sent a letter to the editor the other day.

They were riled about how city council has tampered with tradition regarding the local cut of slot revenues at Flamboro Downs. That money -- about $4 million this year -- had been used to offset taxes in Flamborough. Now it's to go into general Hamilton coffers.

Our correspondents from Carlisle want people to start boycotting Flamboro Downs.

I've boycotted the place since it opened on a fine April day in 1975.

Not intentionally. I just never made it up there. But as it's been in the news so much lately, I guess it's my duty to take a look-see.

I go to the Ontario Lottery and Gaming website, which has this to say: "Perched high atop the Niagara Escarpment, OLG Slots at Flamboro Downs is sure to get y racing! The mystique of Arabian Nights casts an air of enchantment over the entire site, where 790 slot machines are ready to roll."

I notice, too, that there's a free shuttle leaving the Ramada every hour. I show up for the 11 a.m. departure.

There are a dozen of us in line and I get talking to a petite woman with snowy hair, smooth skin and a powerful will to win.

She is Theresa Klaman, 81. For 10 years, back in her champagne blond days, she was a teller there. Now she boards the bus six times a week for fun and profit.

The matter of that slot money going to the city soon comes up. "They don't get much from me," Theresa says. "They call me the Lucky Lady."

She lets me tail her awhile, see how it's done.

The floor in the front lobby does sparkle, but that stuff about Arabian mystique is pushing it.

We enter the land where bells ring and lights flash. Theresa feeds a twenty into the cash machine, gets four fives back, arranges them so Laurier's looking at her on each. We visit some nickel machines -- Mariachi Madness, Clowning Around, Texas Tina and Sgt. Fritter, the doughnut-loving cop. Into each she feeds a fresh five, holds onto her slips. In 25 minutes, those slips total $40.15. She cashes out and the $20 she arrived with goes back into her purse. She'll be sure to go home with that.

The payout for slots at OLG is 85 per cent, sometimes a little higher. Still, Theresa believes there are good machines and bad.

She does not believe in chairs. Never uses them. "I don't want to sit on somebody else's problems."

We've got to move. It's time to head upstairs, where the simulcasting of horse races from tracks across North America is just under way.

Theresa tries to explain how it all works. I'm proving a slow learner. I keep asking questions, but now the lesson's over.

"I've got to concentrate," she says, and steps away. She's darting from screen to screen. Dear husband Patrick, who died 22 years ago, showed her how to love the horses.

"The doctor told me, 'Don't sit home feeling sorry because you're a widow. Get out and enjoy yourself.'"

Theresa lets out a whoop. She's just won $104.85 on a race at the Meadows, outside Pittsburgh.

She's packed a lunch and plans to stay until early evening. I wish her more luck.

Downstairs I jump to that Sgt. Fritter nickel machine, press the button exactly once, win $7.65, cash out and blow it on pizza and chocolate milk.

Now I'm talking to Bill, waiting for the shuttle back downtown. He's 57, worked at the Camco appliance plant for 23 years, until it closed four years ago and Hamilton lost another 700 good jobs.

Bill comes up here whenever he gets a good tip on a horse. He likes the outing. "I'm not going to stay at home like a friggin' shut-in."

With five more minutes to kill until the 1:30 shuttle, he slips $20 in Blazing 7s, hits it twice and wins $379.25.

He's in fine humour on the ride back, but everyone else seems quiet. "They're all tapped out," Bill says. "Some days it doesn't take long."

StreetBeat appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

pwilson@thespec.com

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