Saturday Morning, January 17, 2026
Money for Nothing, Chicks for Free
His fingers glided just above the LED screen. Experienced, he knew how not to touch. Each game title he read, odds calculated. His pattern never varied. That would be unlucky. Pick Two. Pick Three. Pick Four and more. Tough odds, he thought. Cash for Life. Slim chance. Powerball. Mega Millions. Lousy odds, but what a payday.
Art Deco One-arm Bandit, 26" H., with custom metal base.
Reminiscent of the Twilight Zone's The Fever.
A smiled filled his face as he touched the screen. Maybe just once. That's all he needed. Scratch-offs. Instant gratification. He had won several times. A taste of honey. Just enough to play again. Inside the Deli's front door, the flashing screen beckoned. Ahab on land. Hey You! Over Here!. Few can pass this tantalizing temptress. Ulysses's sirens. One win could change a life. Never a thought to which way.
Carnival roulette gaming wheel, 32'" D.
Resembling a Pennsylvania Dutch hex sign. Subliminal sign?
Seven Come Eleven
Gambling is ingrained. Oh, I would never do that! preaches the person who runs red lights. A waste of money say the critics who buy a Starbucks brew. Priorities. Our human psyche is wired to take chances. Rolling out of bed each morning is our first one. A part of our mortality dilemma. Life offers no guarantees. We all live under the shadow of chance.
Bingo ball wire cage. Also great for lottery numbers, 13" H.
Not exactly a lucky number.
Study a casino floor. I would never be seen in such a place! screams the putz. Why not? Those rooms are fascinating.
No windows. No clocks. No references. Time suspended. Slick. Note the décor. Colors. Lighting. Animated machine screens. They say Sit down. Stay awhile with me. Have a drink. Always on the house. No. You are on the house. And we love it. If someone put a gun to your head on the sidewalk forcing you to hand over your loot, you would be furious. But here, inside these magic walls, silent pickpockets ply their trade. It's fun claim participants. Life is all a matter of perspective.
Money is Nothing, Fun for Free
Saturday, we touch a form of Bucks County Folk Art, yet unrecognized. Gambling roulette wheels. Complete with numbered playing boards. They arrive to us from storage in the Lingohocken Fire Company. They date mid-century, perhaps earlier.
Listed upon the wheel are presumably fire company members, 32" D.
A resource for future research similar to the back disc of an early Univac computer, sold here years ago. On the disc were facsimile signatures of the mathematicians who created that technology. Another resource. How information survives to us is an interesting tale indeed.
Not so many years ago, before social media filled our time and volunteerism wore a badge of honor, Firemen Carnival's were an essential fundraiser. Beyond the amusement rides and High Strikers, roulette wheels spun and dice rolled. As dusk passed into dark, crowds gathered like overhead moths under fairground lights. Young couples, dating having reached hold hands, married couples, beyond such familiarity, all vied for positions near the games. Pressed together, crowds create momentum. Sardines in a can. Shared bonding. A fever. Roars of laughter and gasps of breath would follow each outcome. After 11PM, the atmosphere really rolled. All participated. Like life, it was chance. A shared treat by those who compete. Win or lose, everyone had a great time.
Crowds do that.
Doors open at 8 AM. Auction starts at 9 AM. PA AU 1265L [bb]