Features
A deep dive into the lives of some shadier members of our community
By BERNIE BELLAN A few weeks ago I was contacted by a publicist for a publishing company, who asked me whether I’d be interested in obtaining a copy of a new book, titled Jukebox Empire: The Mob and the Dark Side of the American Dream?
Here’s what that publicist wrote: “This fall, Rowman & Littlefield is publishing a true crime book focusing on one of the key figures in the story of organized crime in the 20th century – Jukebox Empire: The Mob and the Dark Side of the American Dream by David Rabinovitch (publishing October 15). Rabinovitch, an award-winning filmmaker from Morden, Manitoba, unravels the story of his uncle William “Wolfe” Rabin, which takes him from the Canadian prairies to Chicago in the 1940s and Rabin’s invention of a jukebox. This is the first book to expose how organized crime infiltrated the jukebox industry and it’s an untold piece of criminal, cultural, and musical history. Rabin was the son of Jewish immigrants.
“Caught between the Mob and the feds in a plot to save the casinos in Havana from Castro’s revolution, Wolfe Rabin pulled the biggest money-laundering scheme in history, but his hubris led to the conspiracy falling apart in a sensational trial. At a time when there was a jukebox in every restaurant, diner, bar, barracks, arcade, and canteen, Rabin’s trajectory from inventor to promoter to outlaw is set against the Mob’s growing influence of the jukebox industry. In a world of music, machines, and money, popular culture and organized crime collide in this true story of invention and greed. Rabinovitch pieces together the puzzle that begins in Chicago and spans the casinos of Havana and the financial giants of Europe, leading to what the FBI called “the biggest bank robbery in the world.”
“Rabinovitch is a winner of Emmy, Peabody, and Gemini awards. His significant films include the documentary Politics of Poison and the mini-series Secret Files of the Inquisition. Jukebox Empire is his first book.”
Of course, the moment I read that email I was interested in reading the book. Here we have some of the essential elements of a story that’s perfect for this paper: A crime story with a Jewish character at its centre – who comes from Morden, Manitoba no less!
I immediately thought of historian Allan Levine, who’s written extensively about Jewish characters with sordid backgrounds – especially in the bootlegging business, and contacted Allan to ask him whether he’d ever heard of this “Wolfe Rabin?”
Allan said he hadn’t previously, not that is, until he was contacted by the author, David Rabinovitch, who asked Allan for some help.
After I began to read the book, however, I was again contacted by the publicist, who asked me to withhold writing a review of the book until October, when the book will be released to the public.
But, to whet readers’ appetites even further, here are some endorsements David Rabinovitch has already received in advance of the book’s actual release to the public:
“A fast-paced, colorful romp through a slice of the twentieth century American underworld”
-David Kertzer, Pulitzer Prize winner
“Jukebox Empire reads like a novel but the characters and events are real and chilling.”
-Peter Edwards, co-author, The Encyclopedia of Canadian Organized Crime
“It has everything: action, incredible characters, suspense, humor. Can’t wait to see the movie.”
-Fred Fuchs, producer, The Godfather, Part III
“A compelling story of family and crime that touches on key events of U.S. history in the 1950s and 60s”
-Scott M. Deitche, author, Garden State Gangland
“An eye-opening, informative, and fascinating book. Jukebox Empire is must-read.”
-Antonio Nicaso, author, Made Men, The Dark Mafia, Angels Mobsters & Narco-Terrorists
“A delightfully entertaining story of jukeboxes, money laundering, and stolen bonds.”
-Alex Hortis, author, The Mob and the City
“A unique combination of family memoir and investigative journalism.”
-Gary Jenkins, producer/host, “Gangland Wire”
“A tour-de-force account of the Mob’s growing infiltration into legitimate American industry and how it affected one man who was obsessed with power and money at all costs.”
-Joe Saltzman, Prof. of Journalism, Annenberg School of Communication, University of Southern California
I also asked David Rabinovitch whether readers could order Jukebox Empire in advance, so that they could obtain a copy as soon as it’s released.
David responded: The book “is available for pre-order online through the website www.jukeboxempire.com (Chapters Indigo in Canada) or readers should request it at their favourite bookstore.”
All this got me to thinking: Over the years, we’ve published quite a few stories about Jews with mob connections, and some of those individuals came from Winnipeg. Perhaps the story that elicited the most interest was one we published in 2015 by Martin Zeilig about a character by the name of Al Smiley. (You can still find that story on our website’s online archive. Just search for “Al Smiley.” in the “search archive” button on jewishpostandnews.ca)
Smiley, it turns out, was best friends with Bugsy Siegel (whose real name was Benjamin – and who hated being called “Bugsy.”) In fact, Smiley was sitting right beside Siegel – on his living room couch in his Las Vegas home, when Siegel was shot and killed by a Mafia hitman.
That story led to another story about a mobster with a Winnipeg connection who, it turns out, was actually related to me in a very distant way, someone by the name of Harry Altman.
In 2020 I wrote about someone by the name of John Novick in an article I wrote about the children of Jewish mobsters. In that same article I referenced Myer Lansky and his daughter, Sylvia, who was the subject of one of the greatest interviews Anna Maria Tremonti ever conducted when she was host of CBC’s “The Current.” (You can still listen to that interview on the CBC website.)
Finally, a few years back I happened to attend a Fringe show which was titled “Davey the Punk.” The creator of that show – and its sole performer, was singer Bob Bossin (who was a member of a well-known group called “String Band.”) The show was about Bob’s father, Davey Bossin who, while not a “made man” per se (Mafia parlance for someone who is accepted into the Mafia), but who was very “connected” and about whose background Bob Bossin knew nothing until years after his father had died.
What’s my obsession with mobsters, you might ask? Well, I don’t think I’m much different than a great many others when I say that I’m both fascinated and repelled by all these figures – and the fact they’re all Jewish only adds to my interest.
But, it got me to thinking – once again: Where are the stories about Winnipeg Jewish hoodlums from the North End? Even in Russ Gourluck’s masterful history of Winnipeg’s North End, The Mosaic Village, he only mentions two shady characters: Stanley Zedd, a well-known operator of gambling establishments, especially the Margaret Rose Tea Room on Osborne, and Bll Wolchuk, a major bootlegger in the 1920s.
So – to find out more about Jewish hoodlums of a bygone era, I turned to my most trusted source on the subject: Ernie Chisick, whom I first met at the Y reunion in 2019.
For those who don’t know Ernie – he is a raconteur of the first order and his own brushes with the law when he was younger only add to his mystique.
I sat down with Ernie one recent evening and asked him to repeat some of the fabulous stories he’s told me over the years about colourful North End characters with whom he crossed paths over the years. I was especially keen on hearing Ernie recite some of the nicknames of guys with whom he associated when he was younger.
The problem is, as Ernie explained, some of those individuals are still alive and, even if they’re not, they have kids and grandkids, so referring to them by their full names might not even be embarrassing, it might be potentially lethal for me!
I have attempted to reach out to one character in particular who, as Ernie described him, probably knows more about Jewish hoodlums… and criminals, from the North End of the 40s and 50s than anyone else alive, but even if that guy does get back to me, I rather doubt he’s going to want to see his name end up in the Jewish paper in Winnipeg. (I’m hoping that he will respond to my message and I’ll promise him full anonymity if he’s prepared to talk about his former friends – who weren’t quite boy scouts.)
Ernie though, has too many good stories not to at least refer to some of them here. He told me about a gambling club on Selkirk Avenue between Salter and Powers that was run by an individual who was known as “Montreal…..” (Again, I’m leaving out the surname because it’s a name that would be familiar to at least some readers.)
According to Ernie, that club had a lookout by the name of “Srulik Flaxman.” When Srulik would spot a cop coming, he would shout to the guys who were in the back room: “Watch out – it’s the football shoes kimmen!” (Why he referred to cops as “football shoes,” Ernie didn’t know.)
Here’s another story Ernie tells – about a character who went by the name “One-eyed Connolly.”
“They’re playing cards,” Ernie says, “and Connolly says he’s got to take a piss.” But before he gets up to go to the bathroom, he leaves his cards on the table, then takes out his glass eye, puts it on the table, and says to the eye: “Watch them guys; they’re all a bunch of thieves!” Apparently that so unnerved the other players, they sat there frozen in their seats, afraid of that well-known Jewish superstition: “the evil eye.” (But Connolly wasn’t Jewish. Can a non-Jew threaten someone Jewish with the “evil eye?” There’s a Saturday morning sermon for you, all you rabbis and would-be rabbis out there.)
With reference to Stanley Zedd and the Margaret Rose Tea Room, Ernie says that his father, Charlie, once said to him, “Take this to the Rosie (the nickname for the Osborne Tea Room) and ask for Stanley Zedd.” Charlie handed Ernie a paper bag (which, Ernie now says, unbeknownst to him at the time, contained betting slips. Ernie claims he was only an innocent 16-year-old. not yet wise in the ways of the world. Anyway, the statute of limitations protects him now.)
So, Ernie drove to the Tea Room and announced, when he walked into the room, “I have something for Stanley from Charlie.”
He was ushered into the back room where Stanley Zedd held court. “He was very nice to me and told me my father was an honourable man,” Ernie recalls.
Another time, Ernie says, he got a phone call from his father in the middle of the night.
“Charlie,” Ernie asked (Ernie says he always called his father by his first name), “what is it?”
“I’m in jail,” Charlie responded. (He didn’t say why.)
“In the morning,” Charlie continued, “give Roland Penner a phone call.” (Roland Penner would go on to become Manitoba’s attorney general, but at the time he was in partnership with Joe Zuken in the firm, Zuken and Penner.)
“So, I phoned Roland Penner’s office in the morning. I told his secretary who I was and she put me through immediately to Roland Penner.”
“Roland says to me, ‘You heard from your dad? The mounties made a raid in the middle of the night. Eighteen guys (from different cities) were charged with conspiracy to commit bookmaking.’”
“Roland says: ‘I’ve got something for you.’ “ He explained that the mounties took Charlie out in the middle of the night and it was quite cold.
“Your father wanted me to give you his gloves,” Penner continues.
“I put them on,” Ernie says, “and I feel a lump in one of the gloves. They were betting slips that could have been used as evidence in court.’
(Did Penner know that, I wonder? Ernie says he doesn’t know.)
“All the guys were taken to a lock-up in Calgary. Harry Walsh represented the three Winnipeggers,” Ernie continues.
“My dad explained that the Jewish boys were able to get kosher food to eat because one of the mounties was Jewish and he brought them deli.”
The Grey Cup was being held that week, Ernie says. “Charlie said he made $10,000 taking bets on the game” – while he was in jail.
Eventually, when the accused were brought to trial, they were all acquitted, Ernie explains.
“Walsh said they weren’t betting with each other; they weren’t in business together.” As a result, the conspiracy charge didn’t hold up, Ernie says. (If they had simply been charged with bookmaking, then the likelihood is that at least some of them, including Charlie, would have been found guilty.)
I don’t necessarily approve of Charlie’s behaviour. Rather, the stories about the less savoury aspects of Jewish lives don’t usually receive much attention in North American Jewish newspapers. (Some Israeli newspapers, in contrast, are not at all reluctant to publish extensive investigative pieces about the Israeli underword.)Yet, there are so many colourful stories to tell I thought I’d deviate from the Gerry Posner and Myron Love types of stories that extol the virtues of individuals who have led honest, hardworking lives to write about other less honourable fellows who, as the late Harvey Rosen used to say are “of the Hebraic persuasion.”
We’ll have more about members of our community who had connections to activities that were not always on the right side of the law in our Aug. 16 issue. If you might have a story to add about a relative with a shady past that you might like to share, you can email us at jewishp@mymts.net
Features
The Leica Camera Family and the Shoah
By DAVID TOPPER I was born in 1943 in Pittsburgh, steel-town USA. While I was still in diapers, across the Atlantic Ocean, the Shoah was well under way. The mass murder continued, only coming to an end due to Germany’s defeat in the Second World War. My father was in that war, spending over two years in the Army Signal Corps on the other side of the world – on a small island in the South Pacific. He didn’t kill any Japanese soldiers; the US Marines had already “liberated” the island before he arrived. Being in the Signal Corps, he must have heard the radio contact with the airplanes on the nearby island of Tinian, on those two days in August of 1945 when they took off carrying the nuclear bombs that ended the war with Japan. By the time he came home in March 1946, I was a toddler. He resumed his job at one of the steel companies, where he held a clerical position.
My father was what was called in those days a camera buff. He liked to take pictures and develop the film himself. He built a darkroom in the basement, and it was there that I learned the craft. Initially he just had a simple box camera: point and click. But he always talked about getting a real camera someday: where he could set the aperture, speed, and focus himself. His salary at the steel company was not enough to get an expensive camera, such as a Leica. Although he did talk about these German cameras; they were top of the line 35mm roll film cameras, with the 1/1.5 aspect ratio negatives. I remember looking at them in the photography magazines he bought. Owning a Leica was a fantasy. This was when I was still very young.
I vividly recall the day he bought a real camera. I was around the age of nine, or maybe older. He saw an ad in the for-sale section of the newspaper: someone was selling a Rolleiflex camera, the twin-lens reflex camera using 120 roll film with 2¼ x 2¼ inch square negatives. The Rolleiflex had hit the market in 1929 and quickly set the standard for medium-format photography, in competition with the popular 4 x 5 inch press camera.
I went with my father somewhere on the other side of Pittsburgh. The man had been on a business trip to Germany, where he bought the camera. But he was selling it because he was frustrated with the need to focus, set the speed and such. He just wanted a box camera: point and click. So, my father bought it.
Since the specific camera my father bought was not only made in Germany but had been sold there, all the writing on it was in German. My father loved the camera. He said it produced exceptional images. He believed the lens was so good because it was made only for Germans themselves. At the time I believed this; as I believed everything he said at that age in my life. Now I think otherwise.
It was around this time that my father joined the camera club at the steel company where he worked. There were monthly meetings, as I recall. He was an active member; even the president at one time. Occasionally he took me to a meeting. And that’s where I met Carl, whose last name I can’t recall. So, why mention him? Because Carl owned a Leica. He was the only member of the club to have a Leica. Carl probably had a much higher paying job than my father and the other guys at the steel company. (And, by the way, they were all guys; except for the models. But that’s another story for another day, not relevant here.) Anyway, Carl had a Leica; and he even let me hold it, as long as I kept the strap around my neck. Whether I actually snapped a picture with it – I don’t recall. Probably not. But it was a highlight of my time at the club. Now, before you jump ahead: no, I didn’t buy a Leica, ever.
But I did get a Rolleiflex – or Rollei, for short. Here’s how. My father’s love affair with the camera didn’t last. The catalyst for the change was when cameras started coming out with built-in light-meters. No longer did you have to fiddle around with the light-meter hanging around your neck, pointing it to the subject, and then setting the camera’s shutter and aperture. It was all built-in; you adjusted the setting directly on the camera. And so, my father bought another newer Rolleiflex; this one with a built-in light-meter.
He then sold me his German Rollei. Yes, you read correctly: he sold it to me. My father grew up during the Depression in the 1930s, and this was the source of such behaviour. I was older at this time – somewhere in my teenage years – and I had a paper route, so I could afford it. I don’t recall the price; and I’m sure I got a good deal – he was my father, after all – but still.
I, in turn, loved the camera – even though I had to use a hand-held light-meter. It was my only camera for many, many decades of my life.
One more thing, before I get to the role of the Leica in the Shoah. As I write this, I’m living in Canada. I moved here in August 1970 to begin what turned out to be a 42-year tenure as a university professor. Moving from the USA to Canada was an adjustment in many ways. For example, the role of the monarchy here was a novelty for me. I mention this because I was pleased to learn that the Queen, who was head of state at the time, owned a Leica.
The name comes from the owner of the factory in the city of Wetzlar, in south-west Germany, near Frankfurt. Here is where the first prototype camera was invented in 1914; a camera that used 35mm film. Before that, photographers had to use bulky wooden boxes with large glass plates. The factory was the Ernst Leitz Optische Werke; in other words, the optical plant of Ernst Leitz. The First World War delayed production of the invention, but by 1925 the first Leica camera debuted at the Leipzig Spring Fair. For the name they combined the words Leitz and Camera and got Lei-ca – or Leica. (Note that they used the Latinized, camera, not the German, kamera.) Thus, was introduced the portable 35mm camera that led to everyday street photography and photojournalism, such the famous images of Henri Cartier-Bresson, and others. Subsequent models over the next decades introduced the rangefinder, better lenses, extended shutter speeds, and so forth. The Leica M3 of 1954 is called by AI: “one of the greatest mechanical cameras ever built.” Fortunately, for the average photographer, there subsequently were other 35mm cameras introduced at considerably lower prices by Kodak and Argus in the USA, with more coming later from Japan.
All of this paralleled the development of the Twin-Lens Rolleiflex, which my father and I owned. The Rollei is another example of German precision engineering. Franke & Heidecke in Braunschweig, Germany is where the first Rolleiflex hit the market in 1929. The model went through many changes over the decades, so that up to the 1960s, also according to AI: “the Rolleiflex was the undisputed king of photojournalism, street photography, and portraiture.” I’ll leave that topic where it is.
Now I want to get to the point of all this background discussion of photography. Namely: the account of the family-owned Leica business in Germany under the Nazis. It started in 1933 when Adolf Hitler became chancellor, and the government passed the Nuremberg laws, which institutionalized racial discrimination and stripped German Jews of their citizenship.Subsequently, Jewish professionals—doctors, lawyers, professors, and business owners—were gradually barred from their livelihoods and public life.
At the time, Ernst Leitz II (1871-1956) was head of the firm. The Leitz family were Protestant Christians. Their attitude toward their workers was progressive for the time: with pensions, sick leave, and health insurance. The firm also employed many Jews in various positions, from workers to the professional staff. Seeing the writing on the wall in 1933, many Jewish employees and their families wanted to leave Germany. The company also had offices elsewhere: London, Paris, New York, and Hong Kong. In a short while, the ocean liner Bremen was docking in New York harbour, and Leitz employees and their families were being escorted to the Leitz Manhattan Office. Every few weeks, under the guise of being assigned overseas, another group of Leitz “employees” arrived in the harbour. Each German employee had a Leica camera hanging around his neck. Until a position was found for him, he was paid a stipend. Eventually they all found jobs, mainly in the photography industry.
The same thing happened in the other offices outside of Germany, especially after Kristallnacht in November 1938, as synagogues and Jewish shops were torched across Germany. Thus, many Jewish employees and their families (and even Jewish friends of families) were assigned jobs in sales offices in London, Paris, and Hong Kong, where they too escaped the Shoah.
This continued until September 1939, when Germany closed its borders, after the invasion of Poland and the start of the Second World War. By then hundreds of Jews had left on what was later called “the Leica Freedom Train.” It was all a ruse to save Jews from the Shoah. We don’t know the exact number; but it ranges from 100-300 lives saved.
Ernst Leitz II was able to pull this off because he was not only a respected member of the business community, but his factory was also producing military optics, rangefinders, and telescopic sights essential to the German military. As long as the military was getting what they needed from Leitz’s factory, there was no reason to question the way he was moving his employees around the world.
In general, this was true. But not always. One executive was jailed for helping Jews leave the country. He was eventually freed, after Ernst paid a large bribe.
But worse was to come. Since many of the workers at the Leitz factory were drafted as soldiers in the war, the place lacked workers to keep it running. Between 1940 and 1945, the Nazi government sent approximately 700 to 800 women from the Ukraine and Western Russia as slave labourers. This is where Ernst’s daughter, Elsie Kühn-Leitz (1903-1985), comes in. Elsie had a Doctorate in Law from Frankfort University, as well as degrees in business administration. She was married to Knut Kühn, with whom she had three children. Working for the Leitz company, she treated the women well, providing them with sufficient food, clothing, and living quarters – for which she was reprimanded by the Nazi authorities. Nonetheless, she refused to treat them as slaves.
Then in May 1943 she was asked to help a Jewish woman, Hedwig Palm, escape to Switzerland. Hedwig Palm (née Dessauer, born 1888) was the wife of Hermann Palm, an optician and photo equipment dealer who owned an optical shop in Wetzlar, and who had business connections with the Leitz family. Hedwig apparently was the only Jew in the family. Elsie had an aunt in Munich, not far from the border with Switzerland. So, in the dead of night Elsie safely took Hedwig to her aunt’s home. With a map and some money that Elsie gave her, Hedwig next set off toward the Swiss border. Unfortunately, she got lost and hailed a milk truck. Assuming she was a Jew, the driver drove her to the border police. From documentation that I found in the Yad Vashem, Hedwig was arrested and sent to the Ravensbrück women’s concentration camp, where she died in 1944. Incidentally, the Palm store is still there in Wetzlar. You may find its website under Juwelier Palm, specializing in jewelry, watches, and goldsmithing.
When the Gestapo found out that Elsie had helped Hedwig try to cross the border, she was called in for questioning for several hours. Her humane treatment of the Ukrainian women also came up: what the Gestapo called: “excessive humanitarianism.” Ultimately, she was sent to the Frankfort police prison on September 10, 1943. As she hugged her children good-by, she thought that she would never see them again. The conditions in the jail were sub-human. Minimal food, filthy quarters, bug infested – plus she was sporadically manhandled roughly by the staff. What food her father was able to get to her – she shared with her fellow prisoners. At one point the Gestapo were threatening her with deportation to the Ravensbrück concentration camp. It lasted three months until November 28, 1943, when her father paid a very large ransom to the Gestapo to have Elsie released. Even so, the Gestapo kept an eye on her, often calling her in for interrogation. This continued until the end of March 1945, when American tanks rolled into Wetzlar.
After the War, Elsie and Knut divorced and she got actively involved in humanitarian and diplomatic work, mainly in Africa. She particularly supported the work of Albert Schweitzer’s hospital in Lambaréné, Gabon, even paying a visit in June 1959.
In general, the Leitz family wanted no publicity for all this work in saving Jews. It was only after that generation died out, that the full story came out. And this happened mainly because of the following event.
Like many stories from the Shoah, there are often several layers to them. That’s true for this one too; for I note the following fact. In 1988, surviving labourers and Shoah survivor-groups initiated class-action lawsuits in U.S. and European courts against dozens of major German industrial firms. The Leica Company was one of them, having used women from the Ukraine and Western Russia during the war. In 1999, a Compensation Fund was set up by the government; Leica, along with other German companies, paid into a collective multi-billion-mark fund, as compensation for slave labourers (or their surviving heirs) across Eastern Europe, Israel, the USA, and elsewhere. This may explain Leitz family’s reticence for publicity about their efforts during the war.
Note that Elsie, who died 1985, didn’t have to deal with this. But her children surely did.
Finally, I mentioned before the famous street photographer and artist, Henri Cartier-Bresson, who wrote the well-known book The Decisive Moment (1952), and who incidentally, used Leica cameras. He knew Elsie, and wrote this tribute about her. “I knew Elsie Leitz well and she always welcomed me warmly…when I visited Wetzlar. I was very impressed by her passionate concern for international humanitarian causes, and by the great risks she took during the war to save many people who were in danger. I remember her with deep admiration.” This affirmation forms the Introduction to the book: Elsie’s War: A Story of Courage in Nazi Germany, by (Rabbi) Frank Dabba Smith (Frances Lincoln Ltd, 2003).
Features
Myths and Reality: Are There Winning Strategies at Online Casinos?
Ask around, and everyone seems to have a theory. Plenty of Turkish players hunting for a fast, stable way into their favorite games lean on Pinco giriş to sign in, poke around the lobby, and see which offers are live that week. Then comes the real question, the one nobody quite lets go of.
Can a person actually beat the house long term? Short answer, said plainly: not reliably. To back that up, Pinco Сasino breaks down how these games are wired and why clever-sounding systems keep falling apart the moment real money is involved.
Where the Myths Come From
Here is the thing about casino myths. They almost never start with data. Someone wins big on a random Tuesday, tells the story twice, and a lucky fluke quietly turns into a “method.” Ads nudge it along. Forums repeat it. Newcomers testing Pinco giris often show up already half-convinced of a few of these.
The usual suspects:
- A machine is “due” after a long cold streak.
- Doubling bets after a loss will win it all back.
- Some hours of the night pay out better than others.
- The last spin somehow hints at the next one.
Not one of them survives a close look. Every round stands alone. A clock does not care, and a losing streak has no memory. Players who accept that early tend to keep both their patience and their cash.
What the Math Actually Says
There is a number behind every game: the house edge. It is just the slice the operator expects to keep over time. One session? It predicts nothing. Ten thousand rounds? It shows up like clockwork. Folks who reach Pinco Сasino giriş usually relax and enjoy things more once that figure stops feeling like a trick.
House Edge in Plain Terms
The table gives a rough picture of how game types stack up. Exact numbers move around depending on the rules and the studio behind them.
| Game Type | Typical House Edge | Skill Involved |
| Slots | 3% – 10% | Very low |
| Roulette | 2.7% – 5.3% | Low |
| Blackjack | 0.5% – 2% | Moderate |
| Video Poker | 0.5% – 3% | Moderate |
So skill-based games attract strategic players, while slots remain a pure coin flip. Still, that edge never hits zero. The house keeps its sliver over the long haul, no exceptions. Reading the numbers first helps players expect the truth rather than a fairy tale.
Smart Habits That Reduce Risk
Real strategy has nothing to do with cracking the odds. It comes down to control, a budget, and picking games with a clear head. Some regulars keep the Pinco APK close so they can monitor spending and session time right from their phones.
A handful of habits actually move the needle:
- Decide on a budget before the first bet, then quit when it is gone.
- Lean toward lower-edge games when the plan is a long session.
- Think of bonuses as extra minutes, never as promised profit.
- Step away often, because tired choices get expensive.
A Pinco promosyon kodu might stretch a bankroll a bit, sure. It still does not touch the underlying math. What these habits really protect is the fun, so the whole thing stays a hobby and not a chase.
The Honest Bottom Line
No secret formula exists. Anyone peddling one is selling a story, nothing more. What Pinco pushes instead is calm, responsible play built on firm limits and goals a person can live with. That habit outlasts any hot streak.
For Turkish users, a solid Pinco oyun sitesi should feel simple: clear rules, quick access, fair terms. Good nights come. Bad ones come too. The players who last are the ones who know the odds cold, guard their budget, and refuse to mistake a bit of luck for a plan.
Features
The Blackjack Bet Behind the Everyday Phrase Double Down
Imagine sending a terrible pun to someone you fancy. They laugh, so you send another. Soon, the two of you have a running joke, and a friend says you have doubled down on the cheesy approach.
The words sound at home in that exchange. They also fit a chief executive’s plans or a politician’s speech. In each case, someone puts more weight behind a choice they have already made. Whether that sounds charming, sensible or stubborn depends on the choice, and on who is describing it.
How the Phrase Left the Card Table
Double down comes from blackjack, where it names a betting option recorded in print by the late 1940s.
Today, it appears in business talk, political speeches and dating conversations, far beyond any online casino. The gambling connection deserves a reminder: gambling involves financial risk, and anyone who participates should set spending and time limits and seek support if it causes harm.
By 1991, Joseph Epstein was using the expression figuratively in his essay collection A Line Out for a Walk. It offered a way to describe taking a further risk outside gambling.
The meaning continued to broaden. Merriam-Webster includes becoming more determined in a position or undertaking. Dictionary.com describes increasing effort or holding to an opinion, especially under pressure.
Those definitions cover actions as well as arguments. Someone might spend more time developing a promising project, or defend a disputed view more firmly. The words leave room for both.
A Business Reason to Keep Going
Jeff Bezos supplied an example in his 2016 shareholder letter, released in April 2017. Writing about patient experimentation and attention to customers, the Amazon founder advised readers to “double down when you see customer delight”.
In the published letter, that advice sits alongside accepting failures, planting seeds and protecting young ideas. The sequence gives the expression a purpose: allow ideas to develop, notice what customers appreciate, then give those ideas more support.
Here, doubling down sounds considered. A positive response supplies the reason for doing more.
The phrase also does useful work without attaching a figure to the decision. It conveys increased effort while leaving the details to the situation. Picture a team finding that customers value a particular service and deciding to develop it further. The expression gives that decision a sense of confidence.
Put the same decision in a political argument, though, and someone may question the direction.
When Determination Becomes a Criticism
In his January 24, 2012 State of the Union address, Barack Obama described other countries as doubling down on education. The official transcript places the phrase in a discussion of teachers, skills and preparation for future employment.
Education was something to back more strongly. Obama’s wording gave added effort an approving tone.
Later that year, Bill Clinton used the expression against an opposing economic approach. His prepared remarks for the Democratic National Convention included “double down on trickle-down”, a line whose repeated sounds helped carry the criticism.
The contrast is revealing. Obama presented greater commitment as desirable; Clinton made it part of his objection. Both used the expression to describe pressing further along an existing path.
That difference helps explain why the phrase works in news and commentary. It can describe what someone is doing while also suggesting how the speaker feels about it. The judgement comes through the surrounding words, something readers can recognise in personal conversations too.
What It Sounds Like in Dating
Bumble brings the expression into familiar dating territory in its guidance for people recovering after ghosting. It encourages readers to double down on self-care, directing their energy towards their own wellbeing.
Psychologist Cheryl Harasymchuk uses it differently in an article published by Carleton University. Discussing positive relationship experiences, she gives the example of a couple following an enjoyable date night with more opportunities to spend time together.
These are gentler uses than Clinton’s political jab. One concerns looking after yourself; the other concerns making room for something you enjoy as a couple. Both give stronger effort an everyday, recognisable purpose.
They also show why the words following double down matter. Self-care, education and a disputed policy lead the reader towards different judgements about persistence.
Back in that imaginary message exchange, another awful pun might be welcome because both people are enjoying the joke. The shared response makes continuing it feel playful and personal.
That brings the expression back to ordinary conversation. Double down tells us that someone is committing more strongly. The rest of the story tells us what to make of it.
