This is the second part of our point-counterpoint discussion. The topic of today’s Point-Counter Point: Is Jersey Shore or The Olive Garden a more unfair stereotype of Italian-American culture?
I’d like to begin this reply by using the most indefatigable evidence in the universe: math. According the Olive Garden the Never Ending Pasta Bowl combinations are nearly endless. And according to leading commercials the math required to figure out the total number of combinations would require at least a team of astrophysicists working for weeks to accurately calculate. So here we go.
There are a total of seven possible pastas: Spaghetti, Whole Wheat Linguine, Linguine, Fettuccine, Penne, Angel Hair, and Orecchiette. There are also a total of six possible sauces Creamy Parmesan Florentine, Roasted Portobello Pomodoro, Alfredo, Meat Sauce, Five Cheese Marinara, and Marinara. So let’s plug that into the old math machine, and I am sure the number will be high in the millions…
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For those of you unfamiliar with the number forty-two, let me tell you that it is the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. Now are you going to tell me that such a clearly holy number, from the holiest of pasta deals, from, clearly, the holiest of Italian-American themed restaurant chains is offensive to a certain ethnic group from a certain boot shaped nation? Pfffft, whatever.
But if you must insist on forcing me to defend the most hallowed of fake stucco halls, I shall oblige you only to ensure that the OG’s reputation remains untarnished. The simple fact is that the Olive Garden gives so much to world and asks for almost nothing in return. Reasonably priced pasta dishes? Check. Friendly service? Of course. Endless salad and breadsticks?! My cup runneth over.
Of course at the Olive Garden, it’s not really about the food. It’s about the experience. It’s about being transplanted to the rolling hills of Tuscany, flowing fields of wheat golden in the morning sun, and Giovanni, the young, dark, sculpted gardener gently nibbling at your toes – excuse me, I was lost in the moment there for a second…and isn’t that exactly the point? To be transplanted to a place with decadent food, bold wines, and beautiful people, if only for an hour, and escape the gross, simplistic, and discourteous world we live in on this side of the Atlantic. We need this escape and we deserve it, and I am proud that a franchise that claims to represent my ethnic homeland is the one to give it.
And what of Jersey Shore? Is it indeed the case that these seven examples of hedonistic hair gel and boob jobs are the best examples of Italian-Americans that we as a society can present? Are these the future leaders of this country? JWoww the next Madonna? The Situation the next Martin Scorsese? Pauly D the next Samuel Alito?! I certainly hope not. Yet if this is the highest representation we have found (and we know only the loftiest manifestations of our culture make it onto the TV), I fear for us. Oh yeah, you sit around claim to watch it “ironically.” Claim that you watch it as an example of how not to act, an example of the most disgusting human behavior you have ever seen. How is that entertainment?! That is simply not an explanation for watching such a morally corrupt program. You might be watching Jersey Shore to make yourself feel better… “Hey, I’ve only slept with four girls in a hot tube- Six?! That Pauly D just doesn’t know where to draw the line.” Or maybe it’s a secret perverse desire that drives addiction… “Wow, JWoww’s boobs are so fake-gross, oh god please let me touch them.” Either way, the fact that you would even watch this show, let alone support it, is demonstrating some serious emotional dysfunction.
So what’s the alternative? Yes, it’s easy to mock the heartfelt slogan, When you’re here, you’re family. But maybe we need something really sincere, just maybe, in these tough times, we need a place to open its doors and say, Hey you look hungry-how about 3000 calories of Alfredo sauce to fix you right up?
The Olive Garden is that place.
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