It's Saturday Night and I Wish I Were Drinking With...

Tonight I finally write the first entry of my long contemplated third “regular” post. “Regular” as in I’ll try and post it every Saturday but you know how life gets. The title: It’s Saturday Night and I Wish I Were Drinking With… Yes as a husband and new father my Saturday nights mostly consist of catching up on recorded shows from the week and rocking my daughter to sleep. Gone are the days of going out to the bar/restaurant with the wife and friends for a long evening. But at least I can still dream.

The first guest I would invite is cliché, overly-popular, and far too predictable. But I don’t care. I still love him. Anthony Bourdain. Catching on to the saturated food-travel TV market that went from destination instructional guide to pipe-dream wonderland guide with the recession, Tony still puts out the most entertaining food or travel show on TV. Yes he can be vulgar, and self-indulgent, and repetitive of theme, but isn’t that part of the appeal.

Tony is part of the grand American tradition that provides you can be a mediocre talent in a working class industry and still find fame and fortune in America. This is not Jersey Shore type fame either. Tony brings a select set of skills, knowledge, and outlook that is oft overlooked in the mainstream media, but entertains because of its uniqueness to everyday people. He’s like the Jack LaLanne of leisure. The Bob Villa of indulgence.

However, Tony brings something far more entertaining and invigorating to the table than this. There was a time in America when people thrived on competition and allegiance. Yes, to a degree we can still see it in the sports world. College rivalry still draws thousands of screaming fans to will their teams past one another. But even that is dying. Exhibit A: Lebron James. I won’t knock Lebron for making a business decision, but that is all he will ever be known as now, is a business man. In Cleveland, it was Lebron vs. THE WORLD.

He was a hero. Win or lose, an entire city’s hopes were pinned on one man, and 365 days of the year every resident of that city would kill for him. But Lebron couldn’t handle the pressure of that competition, so instead he joined forces with his rival so that he would not have to be mixed up in a rivalry – an eternal competition. He couldn’t stand half the world loving him and the other half hating him, so instead he opted for everyone to hate him.

But Tony, Tony brings rivalry back to the common world. There was a time when authors sparred with one another. Norman Mailer and Gore Vidal became famous for their bitter rivalry. Can you imagine literary rivals? Now, authors are simply self-congratulatory ninnies, none wanting to disparage the other. Can someone please take a swing at Jonathan Franzen so my daughter doesn’t grow up thinking stories of depraved middle-class families are high literature.

And what about late-night talk show hosts. Leno v. Letterman, a grudge match born when Leno won Carson’s spot. But for the last ten years the two won’t take shots at one another. And Conan? Gets the biggest slight in TV history and he doesn’t say a word? Come on! I know you’re walking away with millions, but still, show a little chutzpa. [Is that the correct spelling?].

And then there’s Tony. Who knew TV food celebrities would bring rivalry back to America. Tony has a grocery list of food personalities he hates and mocks ceaselessly. What’s even better is he doesn’t have good reasons for not liking a lot of them. That’s what makes a fantastic rivalry. Why did Spike Lee start jawing Reggie Miller so hard? I don’t know, but he did. And we have some of the greatest sports moments because of it. Tony brings good old, me or them, rivalry back to America, and I’m on board.

But the real reason I would invite Tony out is the man knows his watering holes, and with a celebrity we’re bound to get free drinks. Lets face it, given my current lull in disposable income I’m all over free drinks like a fat kid on cake.

So it’s Saturday night. The baby-girl is asleep, we’re all in our pj’s, and I’m tucked snugly in bed. But in my mind I’m just heading out to meet up with Tony. Hit a few restaurants for fine treats, grab some drinks, listen to war stories of culinary rabble-rousing, and discuss the weaker points of Rachel Ray’s talk show. And at the end of the night, of course, Tony picks up the bill.