I can’t remember investing even a fraction of this much interest in any other TV show-ever. I won’t answer the phone on Sunday nights between 9:00 and 10:00 and shoo away the kids-a fine signal to send when you’re trying to get them to watch less TV. At the candy rack the other day, I even considered buying some Tic-Tacs. Never know when a spare one will come in handy down in the Pine Barrens.
Part of the appeal for me is that I live in Montclair, N.J., home of Yogi Berra, Bill Bradley and a large chunk of the staff of The New York Times, but now principally known as the town where Dr. Jennifer Melfi lives and works. It’s also where she was raped, and Tony, in an early episode, was shot. I’m ashamed of the number of times I’ve bragged about this to out-of-town friends and colleagues. The amazing thing is that they actually seem impressed-even those who regularly interview real-life famous and important people. In a miraculous status turnaround, this newfound respect is directly attributable to my living in … New Jersey.
I went to an Italian restaurant in nearby Little Falls last weekend and every five minutes another Christopher or Ralphie walked in, looking for an Adriana at the bar. I could have sworn I saw Carmela and Rosalie having dinner in the corner and Artie and Charmaine exchanging words. The Bada Bing is actually a bar on Route 17 in Lodi called Satin Dolls, where, to the chagrin of tourists, they have no nude dancing. Satriale’s is in Kearny, but the pig on top is all Hollywood.
Jim Treffinger, our local Essex County executive, is an honest guy, even if he does bear a passing resemblance to Assemblyman Zellman, the corrupt local politician played by Peter Riegert. But Treffinger made a mistake when he wouldn’t let “The Sopranos” shoot (film or guns) in the beautiful South Mountain Reservation because he thinks the show slurs Italian-Americans. (They had to film that wonderful episode where Paulie and Christopher get lost in the snow in Westchester County, N.Y., of all places).
It’s just a guess, but I bet those who are offended aren’t regular viewers of the show. In any event, it was a boneheaded political move, and not just because Italians make up a shrinking portion of Essex County. The show is so popular locally that tryouts for extras were cancelled because hundreds of Italian-Americans showed up, overwhelming the casting directors. My plumber, perfect for a part, was among them.
Unfortunately Joe the Plumber doesn’t know any better than anyone else what’s going to happen this week. But the truth is, it doesn’t much matter. The exquisite pleasures of “The Sopranos” lie in the little character moments that have nothing to do with who gets whacked next: Junior and the blender; Meadow and her roommate; Carmela and the girls discussing Hillary Clinton.
Oh, and Ralphie in the kitchen showing Jackie Jr. how to make the tomato sauce cling better to the pasta. My wife tried it last night. Delicious.
