Features
What Is The Future of Land-Based Casinos in Canada?

Walk into a casino in Canada today, and you’ll still see the flashing lights, hear the hum of slot machines, and feel the excitement in the air. But something is different. The crowds aren’t as big as they used to be. The energy, while still there, doesn’t quite match what it once was. And outside those walls? A whole different kind of casino industry is booming—one that exists entirely online.
The gambling world has changed fast, and land-based casinos are scrambling to keep up. The truth is, that people don’t need to leave their homes to enjoy their favorite games anymore. In just a few clicks, they can log into an online casino, play thousands of games, bet on sports, and withdraw their winnings instantly. The convenience, the variety, and the accessibility of online gambling have left traditional casinos in a tough spot.
The Digital Revolution
Here’s the kicker—this shift isn’t just about convenience. It’s also about privacy, speed, and flexibility, things that modern players value more than ever.
According to Liliana Costache, the rise of no-KYC casinos proves this trend. These platforms let players sign up and play without submitting personal documents, offering total anonymity and other convenient perks like streamlined registrations, unique bonuses, and instant withdrawals. (source: https://www.pokerscout.com/casino/no-kyc-casinos/).
For a lot of gamblers, that’s a game-changer. No long verification processes, no waiting around—just straight-up gaming, whenever and wherever they want. So where does this leave land-based casinos? Are they heading toward extinction, or can they evolve and stay relevant in an increasingly digital world?
Why Players Are Ditching the Drive
Not too long ago, if you wanted to gamble in Canada, you had to make a trip to a casino. Maybe it was an exciting weekend getaway to Niagara Falls or a quick visit to a local gaming spot. Either way, the experience meant dressing up, traveling, and spending money not just on gambling, but also on food, gas, drinks, and entertainment. It was an event.
However, today, that experience is optional. Online casinos have made it ridiculously easy to gamble from anywhere. Whether you’re on the couch, waiting in line at a coffee shop, or even lying in bed, the casino is right there on your phone. No dress code, no travel time, no waiting for a seat at a poker table—just instant access to thousands of games.
And that’s not even the biggest reason people are flocking to online gambling. The real draw is what these platforms offer: massive game selections, crazy welcome bonuses, loyalty rewards, and flexible payment options. As crypto becomes more mainstream, cryptocurrency, e-wallets, instant withdrawals – you name it, online casinos have it. Compare that to land-based venues, where payouts can take hours and options are limited, and it’s easy to see why more players are making the switch.
Another factor that’s made online gambling explode in Canada is the sheer aggressiveness of marketing. If you’ve watched sports in the past year, you’ve probably noticed the flood of gambling ads. Hockey broadcasts are packed with odds, betting promos, and celebrity endorsements. Online gambling companies have gone all-in on advertising, and it’s working.
Land-based casinos? Not so much. Their marketing efforts don’t have the same reach or appeal, especially for younger players who live on their phones.
The Struggles of Traditional Casinos: Can They Survive?
It’s not that land-based casinos are dying. However, they are struggling. And it’s not just because of online competition. A whole list of problems is making it harder for them to thrive.
First, foot traffic is declining. Younger generations simply aren’t as drawn to physical casinos. They prefer digital experiences, fast transactions, and games that feel interactive. Walking into a casino, pulling a lever on a slot machine, or sitting at a blackjack table doesn’t have the same appeal as it did for previous generations.
Then there’s the cost of running a casino. Physical locations come with massive expenses, which include staff salaries, utilities, maintenance, and security, just to name a few. Online casinos don’t have to worry about any of that. They operate with far fewer costs, which means they can offer better bonuses, higher payouts, and a much wider selection of games.
On top of that, government regulations are getting stricter. New advertising rules are banning casinos from using athletes or celebrities in their ads, which could hit traditional casinos harder than online operators. They already struggle with marketing, and now their options are even more limited.
And let’s not forget about payment restrictions. While online casinos are pushing forward with cryptocurrency and instant transactions, land-based casinos are still largely cash-based. This is another area where they’re falling behind.
The Social and Psychological Edge of Digital Gambling
One of the biggest advantages of online gambling is how seamlessly it fits into modern lifestyles. Traditional casinos offer an exciting, high-energy environment, but they also come with limitations, like long drives, crowded floors, and fixed operating hours. Online casinos, on the other hand, put the entire gambling experience in the palm of your hand, allowing players to jump into a game anytime, anywhere. This level of flexibility is something land-based venues simply can’t match.
Beyond convenience, digital gambling platforms are revolutionizing how players interact with casino games. The rise of live dealer games has brought a social element to online play that was once exclusive to physical casinos.
With high-definition video streaming, real-time chat features, and professional dealers, players can enjoy the thrill of a real casino without leaving home. Some platforms even let players interact with each other, making the experience more engaging and immersive.
How Land-Based Casinos Can Fight Back
If traditional casinos want to stay relevant, they can’t just sit back and hope for the best. They need to reinvent themselves, and fast.
One way to do that is by turning casinos into full-blown entertainment destinations. Think high-end restaurants, concerts, nightclubs, and even esports arenas. If gambling alone isn’t enough to bring people in, offering an experience that goes beyond the casino floor might do the trick.
Some casinos are also going hybrid, blending online and offline gambling. For example, live dealer games streamed directly from real casino floors let online players participate in real time. Others are developing mobile apps that allow players to track their rewards and transition seamlessly between digital and in-person gambling.
Another area where land-based casinos could step up is embracing AI and technology. AI can personalize promotions, analyze player behavior, and even help with security. Virtual reality is another exciting possibility. Imagine stepping into a fully immersive digital casino from the comfort of your home while still interacting with real dealers and other players. It’s futuristic, sure, but not as far off as it seems.
Some casinos are even considering cryptocurrency integration, which would allow for faster, more secure transactions. If they can tap into the crypto market, they might be able to attract younger, tech-savvy players who prefer decentralized payments over traditional banking.
The bottom line is that land-based casinos can’t afford to stay the same. If they want to survive, they need to evolve, innovate, and find ways to offer something that online casinos can’t replicate.
What’s Next for Canada’s Casinos?
The future of land-based casinos in Canada isn’t set in stone. While they still have a place in the gambling world, their dominance is fading as online platforms continue to take over. The days of players driving long distances to a casino when they can access everything on their phones are quickly coming to an end.
That doesn’t mean land-based casinos are doomed. But they do need to change. They need to go beyond gambling and create entire experiences that make the trip worthwhile. They also need to embrace technology, integrate digital elements, and appeal to younger audiences who crave fast, interactive, and flexible gaming.
Features
I Speak “Jew”

By MARK E. PAULL I grew up in Montreal. Born in 1956. Anglo by birth, sure. But that never quite fit. I don’t speak “Anglo” the way they mean it. My real language is Jew.
And I don’t mean Hebrew or Yiddish. I mean the language of reading the room before you enter it. The code-switching, shame-dodging, laugh-first-so-they-don’t-pounce dialect we pick up early. It’s a language built on side-eyes and timing and ten generations of tension.
I speak French—enough to make myself understood. Enough to charm a dinner table, crack a joke, get someone’s uncle to nod. I’m not fluent, but I’m fast. Doesn’t matter. In Quebec, language isn’t grammar—it’s inheritance. It’s who your grandfather cursed out in a hardware store.
To the Francophones, I’ll never be one of them. My accent betrays me before I say a word. I’m just an Anglo. And not even that, really. Because when the lens tightens, when they look closely, I’m just un Juif. Just a Jew.
And to the Anglos? Same thing. I can wear the suit, speak the Queen’s English, order the wine properly—still a Jew. Even in rooms where I “pass,” I don’t belong. I’m not invited in to be myself. I’m invited in to behave. To be safe. To not say the thing that makes the air stiff.
We’re the only people still called by our religion. No one says “Orthodox” for a Greek. No one says “Vatican” for an Italian. No one calls a Black man “Baptist” before they see his face. But “Jew”? That sticks. That’s the label. Before passport. Before language. Before hello.
I’ve mostly made peace with that. But there’s still this ache—knowing you can live your whole life in a place and never really be from there.
Let me tell you a story.
We had this block party once—the folding-table, paper-plate kind. Kids zipping by on scooters. Music low. Everyone asked to bring something from “your culture.”
The Greek guy brought lemon potatoes and lamb—felt like it came with a side of Byzantine history. The Italians brought two lasagnas—meat and veggie—with basil placed like confetti. The Vietnamese couple brought shrimp rolls that vanished before they hit the table. Even the German guy—built like a fridge—brought bratwurst and a six-pack with gothic lettering.
And then us.
My partner made Moroccan fish. Her grandmother’s recipe. Red with tomatoes, garlic, cumin. Studded with olives and preserved lemon. I brought a bottle of white wine. Dry. Crisp. From the Golan Heights. Not Manischewitz. Not even close.
We laid it out. Someone leaned over: “Moroccan? But I thought you were Jewish.”
We smiled. “We are.”
Then: “So… where’s the brisket? Isn’t Jewish wine supposed to be sweet?”
That’s when it hits you. No matter how long you’ve lived here, how many snowstorms you’ve shoveled through, you’re still explaining yourself. Still translating your presence.
Because they don’t know. They don’t know Jews came from everywhere. That “Jewish” isn’t one dish—it’s a whole map. That we had Jews in Morocco before there was even a France. That some of us grew up on kreplach, some on kefta. That some of our mothers sang in Yiddish, others in Arabic, and some in both—depending on who was knocking.
They don’t know. And worse—they don’t ask.
And that’s the part that gets you. Not the slurs. Not the graffiti. Not even the occasional muttered cliché. It’s the blankness. The shrug. The image they already have of you that’s built out of dreidels and sitcoms.
“Jewish” as nostalgic. As novelty. Something they saw once on a bagel.
Sometimes, when those questions come, I float. One version of me walks out. Another turns into a mouse. One turns into a Frisbee. Just gone. Not mad. Just tired.
Because being a Jew isn’t cute. It’s not nostalgic.
It’s ancient.
Before Montreal.
Before France.
Before Poland. Before Spain.
Before pogroms.
Before ghettos.
Before Hitler.
Before even the word Europe.
We were there.
Go back to the 5th century. 2nd century.
Go back to Jesus—our kid, by the way.
Go further—Babylon. Persia.
Keep going—Temple. Exile. Wandering.
And still, after all that, I’m at a table in Quebec explaining why our fish has cumin in it.
It’s almost funny. If it didn’t wear you down a little.
I’m not looking for pity. This isn’t a complaint.
I’m proud. I know what I carry. I walk into any room with five thousand years behind me. I come from people who kept the lights on through every kind of darkness—and laughed through it, too.
But sometimes, I just wish I didn’t have to explain so much.
All I want is to put down my dish…
…and hear someone say:
“That smells amazing. Tell me the story.”
That’s all.
Mark E. Paull, C.A.C. is a Certified ADHD Coach – IPHM, CMA, IIC&M, CPD Certified
Writer | Lived-Experience Advocate | Type 1 Diabetic since 1967
He has been published in:
The New York Times, The Globe and Mail, Folklife Magazine, Times of Israel, CHADD’s Attention Magazine, The Good Men Project
Features
At 104, Besse Gurevich last original resident of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence

By MYRON LOVE At 104, Besse Gurevich is the last of the original residents of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence. She may also be the oldest member of our Jewish community.
Although her vision and her hearing have diminished considerably, her mind and memory are still intact. A few weeks back, this writer sat down with her in her suite as she recalled a life filled with highs and lows and her many contributions to her community, both in Winnipeg and Fort William before that.
The daughter of Jack and Rebecca Avit, her life’s journey began in 1921 in a home on Carlton Street near Ellice Avenue, near her father’s furniture store. He later operated a cap factory.
When she was ten, the family – she had two brothers and a sister – moved to Manitoba Avenue in the old North End. “My father had put a deposit down on a house on Scotia,” she recalls. “But my parents didn’t feel that the neighbourhood was Jewish enough.”
Her schooling included Peretz School and, like so many of her generation, St. John’s Tech (as it was known back then.) “I was actually supposed to be going to Isaac Newton for high school,” she says. We were living on the wrong side of the tracks for St. John’s. After one day at Isaac Newton, I found a way to transfer to St. John’s.”
In 1940, 19-year-old Bessie Avit married Jack Gurevich, a young man from Fort William. The wedding was marred though, by the sudden, untimely passing of her father.
Following the wedding, Besse moved with her new husband to Fort William where Jack Gurevich worked in retail clothing sales. “We lived in Fort William for 20 years,” she says. “Our three children (Judy, Richard and Howard) were born there.”
She recalls that there were about 200 Jewish families – including her sister and one of her brothers for some years – in town, during the time she lived there. “We were very well known in the community,” she recalls. “I was involved in everything.”
Her community activism continued after the family’s return to her home town. While Jack went to work as a salesman for Western Glove Works, Besse became an indefatigable community volunteer. At one time or another, she served as vice-president of ORT, Hadassah and National Council of Jewish Women in Winnipeg. She was also a long time B’nai Brith member.
In the business world, the highlight of her career was the building of Linden Woods. “I became involved in real estate development for a time,” she recalls. “I was hired by Genstar to develop Linden Woods. The company estimated that it would take about 20 years to complete. I got it done in two.”
She also taught hair dressing for a while. “I worked with many young Jewish brides,” she says.
Recent years have not been kind to Besse Gurevich. Her beloved husband, Jack, died in 2016 – after almost 65 years of marriage. Older son, Richard, passed away in Vancouver in 2018 and, most recently –six months ago – younger son, Howard, followed. She notes that there were 200 mourners at Howard’s funeral.
(Howard Gurevich was in marketing for many years before turning his talents to the art world. In recent years, he was best known for Gurevich Fine Art in the Exchange District and his support of local artists.)
Besse Gurevich celebrated her 100th birthday – which took place at the height of the Covid shutdown – quietly.
While she used to enjoy reading. she is unable to do so any more. She can still listen to television.
And while she has few family members to visit her any more, she does have a group of friends interesting enough from the local theatre scene. For many years, she was a close friend of the late Doreen Brownstone, one of the leading figures in theatre in Winnipeg for more than half a century. Besse became part of the group that would visit Doreen every week and, since Doreen passed on three years ago, the members of the group have continued to visit Besse on a weekly basis.
Features
Winnipeg author’s first novel gripping tale of romance, action and intrigue, set in 15th century Spain and Morocco

By MYRON LOVE “The Chronos of Andalucia”, a novel just released by first-time author Merom Toledano, is a historical romance set in late 15th century Spain and Morocco, filled with passion, action, intrigue, unexpected twists and turns – and, of course, with the requirement of any medieval story – a quest.
The easy-to-read, 190 page book follows the adventures of Catalina, a young woman living by her wits on the streets of Granada in the year 1487, (just after the Christian armies of Ferdinand and Isabella had recaptured all of Spain from the Moors) – while trying to evade the agents of the Inquisition, who had murdered her Jewish mother and Christian father 10 years earlier. She was left with an insatiable desire to learn about astronomy, along with a mysterious map and an astrolabe (an instrument formerly used to make astronomical measurements) – the importance of which will only be unveiled if she can get to the city of Tangier in Morocco.
Early on, there is a reference to Abraham Zacuto, a prominent Spanish rabbi famed for his knowledge of astronomy and astrology.
The action begins when she has a casual interaction with a former Spanish soldier, Diego. When the forces of the Inquisition approach, she flees with the soldier – who is also her love interest – and who helps her to escape. They turn for help to a childhood friend of Catalina’s – Roberta, a nun, who helps them on their perilous journey to Tangier – a journey that includes being captured by pirates, surviving a shipwreck, being separated for a long period of time and, of course, finding each other again and realizing the success of their joint quest.
In his writing, the author paints vivid word pictures of the different characters and beautifully invokes the colour, sights, sounds and scents of the time and the places.
What I found truly remarkable about the writing of “The Chronos of Andalucia” is that English is not Merom Toledano’s first language. The Israeli-born author – he grew up near Haifa – came to Winnipeg with his young family just eight years ago.
“I have had this book in mind for several years now,” says the satellite engineer whose working career takes him to many different parts of the world.
He notes that he has always felt a connection to Spain, Spanish music and literature – a reflection of his family’s modern origins in that country. His great-grandparents, he relates, lived in Toledo – hence the family name, Toledano. His parents lived in Meknes in Morocco while his father attended university in Tangier before making aliyah.
Toledano just published “The Chronos of Andalucia” in April on Amazon. He reports that the book – which is available here at McNally Robinson – has been selling well –close to 100 copies – with orders coming from a bookstore chain in England, a bookstore in Denmark, and one in Italy.
“I have had between 30 and 40 positive reviews so far,” he reports.
Toledano adds that he envisages “The Chronos of Andalucia” to be the first in a series – a la the writer Danielle Steele. He is already working on a sequel – which is hinted at the end of “The Chronos” and, he reports, he is establishing his own independent publishing operation.