Burke: Can’t choose, so have a bite of everything on the menu
Published 1:30 am Monday, September 14, 2020
By Tom Burke / Herald columnist
Way back in history, like in January, you might have actually visited a new-to-you, well-reviewed — let’s say, Italian — restaurant. After hearing, “Buona sera,” and getting your menu; you begin pondering, “What’ll I order?”
Will it be fish, fowl, meat or a big salad? Pasta? Fried calamari (like always)? Pane Toscano? Wine (red, white, rose, blush; still or sparkling)? Or beer? Or diet Coke (to compensate for the fried calamari)? Something simple like ravioli, traditional like pollo parmigiano, or go more “continental” ala choppino? Or break the bank with a filetto gorgonzola, medium-rare; or break the diet with fettucine Alfredo running rich with oodles of cheese and lashings of heavy cream?
The menu is eleven-plus pages and the wine list comes with a chain hoist to lift it off the table. You are completely overwhelmed by choice. (Sidebar: Who remembers when really good, really pricey, especially formal restaurants would have two different menus: one for the “host” [automatically handed to the guy] and another for the “guest” [always handed to the gal]. The guest’s didn’t have prices so (she) could order what (she) wanted, not what her date/husband/friend could[n’t] afford.)
So it is, gentle reader, for your erstwhile columnist.
I am overwhelmed by choice.
Should I write something personally engaging, about, say, the peach farmer I met in Naches or the failure of the state Department of Corrections to protect the incarcerated and its staff from Covid-19; or something goofy like the time someone brought in their Toyota to the dealer, irate the heater wouldn’t work, and the service manager had to gently point out to the owner he had it set to “Cold,” not “Heat?”
Or do I write about the most pernicious threat ever to our democracy, lives, economy and social order: Donald Trump?
But how about a piece about his Democratic challengers, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris? And how they offer a choice between incompetence, racism, cronyism and terminal stupidity (that would be Trump/Pence, for the MAGAs who would ascribe those traits to Biden/Harris); and decency, honesty, and experience, (that’s Biden/Harris, for the MAGAs who would ascribe those traits to Trump/Pence.)
Then there’s the latest Trump horror, so ably reported by Bob Woodward in his new book “Rage,” describing Trump’s blatant admission — on tape — that he knew about Covid’s deadliness and lied, and his presidential do-nothing-I-am-not-responsible attitude.
Or, his calling our service men and women “losers” and “suckers” and not going out in the rain to honor WWI dead, because it would muss his hair.
I could venture a SWAG (Scientific Wild A** Guess) about polling, but it’s still just blather for cable news stations with air time to fill or grist for the campaign pros.
I could also write about social (in)justice, but my personal philosophy hasn’t evolved much since my dad drilled into me, throughout my youth, his core belief there’s “good and bad” in every group; and so when I once used the N-word at age six or so, his reaction was immediate, intense, and a life lesson. Apparently, his teachings took, although my daughter, a true social-justice warrior, has helped me by putting a finer point on Pop’s philosophy.
I could write more about dining in (not out). Or how back when I worked in the ad biz (literally) on Madison Avenue I caught the last of the three-martini lunch era; and how them what sold us TV, radio, magazine, and newspaper advertising space would vie to spring for our lunch at the city’s top restaurants (which pretty much meant the world’s top restaurants). How we’d order “a couple of colors” off the wine list at the Four Seasons, lunch on duck confit at Lutec, sample pate at Cote Basque, or devour prime rib at The Palm; but the next day eat a soggy sandwich at my desk when it was too busy to leave the office. (To be sure, I am not without conscience. I’d keep grounded by recalling my wife was eating hospital cafeteria food or home-made PBJs where she worked as a nurse.)
Today, the corona virus is killing us (according to the University of Washington, 400,000 deaths by January. Thanks, Trump. You knew! And did nothing!!); the stock market is getting iffy; the election process is being attacked by our “(not)chosen” leader (he lost the popular vote by 3 million); and serious people are writing “what if” Trump loses and refuses to leave the Oval Office claiming it’s all a “hoax.”
Covid-driven school re-openings and 30 million-ish unemployed are destroying “normal” life. Masks aren’t life-saving, they’re now political statements. Not social distancing has become a manhood marker (Sturgis, anyone?) and jigsaw puzzle prices are skyrocketing.
Like I said, I am overwhelmed by choice. So today, all that’s on the menu is a journalistic antipasto, so everyone gets a taste of something.
Ciao. And bon appetite.
Tom Burke’s email address is t.burke.column@gmail.com.
