LETTER TO EDITOR
Published 5-17-07 Daily CameraTHE MIGHTY WOPBURGER
Bugdust, Longjack, Ginger Rabbits, Joe the Wop, Chooch, Squeaky, the list goes on and on.
Those were just a few of the delightful nicknames of some wonderful Italians I knew in Louisville when I published the newspaper there, 1965-98. Had thought-policeman James Gambino been around, he could’ve drawn enormous amounts of attention to himself by correcting all of those friendly “insults.” So it’s probably just as well he attacked only the name of a sandwich made out of two pieces of Italian bread (or a hamburger bun if you wish), a flat cake of fried sausage, and a slice of mozzarella.)
Still, the Rocky Mountain News spared no detail in building a thunderous case denigrating the historic Blue Parrot’s traditional offering. An ethnic expert in Washington D.C. was called in, and further we got to read about the arm-twisting by a Boulder Valley School District official who was pressured by Gambino to boycott Colacci’s wholesale spaghetti sauce (which incidentally is a separate business from the restaurant) over the offending sandwich. Now that is piling on—an insult that I say is far worse than the naming of a mere sandwich.
Alas, what am I to do now when I want "woptoast" served with my breakfast eggs and sausage at the Blue Parrot? I guess I can always whisper my order into the waitperson’s ear. But only after looking around to see who’s spying on us.
Don’t let the do-gooders obliterate the wopburger.
P.
Still, the Rocky Mountain News spared no detail in building a thunderous case denigrating the historic Blue Parrot’s traditional offering. An ethnic expert in Washington D.C. was called in, and further we got to read about the arm-twisting by a Boulder Valley School District official who was pressured by Gambino to boycott Colacci’s wholesale spaghetti sauce (which incidentally is a separate business from the restaurant) over the offending sandwich. Now that is piling on—an insult that I say is far worse than the naming of a mere sandwich.
Alas, what am I to do now when I want "woptoast" served with my breakfast eggs and sausage at the Blue Parrot? I guess I can always whisper my order into the waitperson’s ear. But only after looking around to see who’s spying on us.
Don’t let the do-gooders obliterate the wopburger.
P.
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