“MNob” at Norwegianity tries to turn my genuine, apolitical tribute the the late Nick Mancini into a political screed.

Oh, she fails, of course, because whenever MNob (or pretty much any other leftyblogger) wants to tangle with me on any subject she always fails, and always will. 

But on this topic MNob is…well, a bit thick, as the sage might say:

what the suddenly ethic-loving right wing fails to grasp is that Mancini’s is in the middle of the bluest neighborhood in the bluest city in the bluest state. 

“Suddenly ethnic-loving”.  Hah.  That’s funny, coming from someone as screechingly myopic as Ms. Nob.  Nobster:  I am demonstrably more ethnically eclectic, in terms of personal anscestry, experience and overall fluency, than you will ever be.  We can take that to the bank.

But it’s the “bluest neighborhood” thing that’s more “interesting”, where “interesting” in this case means “removed from reality in kind of a bizarre way”.  Nob – so what?  It’s my city.   Nick Mancini was a restauranteur – one who (unlike some hypothetical MNob-owned restaurant, presuming MNob is a better cook and entertainer than lawyer) leaves his politics at the door.

Which is what MNob should do with her rhetoric, since…

Dave Thune has his election parties there, and it’s safe to assume that those GOP faithful visiting are doing so as if venturing into some odd ethnic enclave.

…she’s wrong.  Tim Pawlenty, Norm Coleman, Phil Krinkie, Joe Soucheray, Randy Kelly, Jerry Blakey and all manner of non-DFL, non-“blue blue blue” politicians and media figures have turned up at Mancini’s over the years, for all the same reasons that Dave Thune does; because Nick Mancini welcomed everyone, and, unlike MNob, didn’t let politics overcome basic human character and decency.

It’s “safe to assume” that Republicans who go there think they’re on some sort of safari?  Jeez, someone’s been marinading her brain in the cliche bucket.

It’s the West End – the part of the city Mitch Berg has labeled the semi-gritty, somewhat downmarket West End of Saint Paul. It’s the real childhood home of Nick and Chris Coleman, although Mitch seems to want to forget that part. 

“Seems to forget it?”

No, MNob, I know that the Coleman brothers – children of one of Minnesota’s most powerful politicians, stepchildren of one of its most powerful publishers – wrap themselves in the West End’s blue-collar mien at every opportunity.  But since I was paying tribute to Nick Mancini, I figured it really didn’t contribute to the original story.  Her little snif is to be expected of someone who didn’t mention even one word about Coleman’s skill on the bagpipes.   

It’s racially integrated, has small houses, and has a whole host of functioning neighborhood groups and churches – social engineering at its worst!  It’s the home of the people who defeated the state-subsideized [sic] Gopher State Ethanol plant. It’s the neighborhood that figured out how to make sure that 35E will never ever have a speed limit of more than 45 miles per hour.

All of which I’m on the record as supporting the West Enders on, by the way, not that MNob would let anything get past her Impenetrable Wall of Stereotypes.

Like… 

And as much as Mitch and Erik Hare get along, Erik lives in Irvine Park, the snooty appendage to the real West End.

The lawyer is dinging on people for being snooty!

It’s the sort of neighborhood and restaurant the average Anti-Strib and Shot in the Dark reader holds a romanticized image of, but would never actually visit, and would likely get lost in if they tried. 

 So do us all a favor and stay in Minneapolis.  I’m sure there’s some corporate chain steak place you can visit without having your sensibilities offended by the genuineness of Mancini’s.

And I repeat: …not that MNob would let anything get past her Impenetrable Wall of Stereotypes.

I know nothing about MNob’s background – but since she never lets that stop her, I’ll feel free to fill in the blanks.  MNob – while adding zilch to the discussion about Mancini – has shown that like most preening, stereotype-sodden liberal city residents, she’s terribly insecure about what must certainly have been her privileged suburban upbringing (I’m guessing Plymouth), and about the simple fact that she’s less eclectic, less tolerant, and not nearly as good a feminist as I am. 

Dave Thune, by the way, is a fellow North Dakota expat.  Say “hi” from me, wouldja?

Never send a Nob do to a Wege’s job.

This entry was posted by by Mitch Berg on Tuesday, June 5th, 2007 at 4:28 am and is filed under Blogs, St. Paul. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.