Shaken and Stirred By Politics

by Brian Hickey

Cathy Burke never lets 'em see her mad. Whatever it is that allows people to seemingly always keep a sunny disposition, she's got it. This is noteworthy because a couple weeks back, when I visited her at the Irish Pub in Atlantic City, which she owns with husband Richard, Burke was fired up. Borderline livid. Offended to the core.

Seems that the Loie-goers over at Philly Mag labeled her gambling-world-renowned pub a "dive bar" in a twice-annual guide to Atlantic City's nightlife. Sure, one man's dive bar is another man's oasis, but Burke wasn't having any of it. So, when the issue came up, she broke off a conversation with an A.C. councilman who'll soon head off to prison after pleading guilty to corruption charges — more on that later — to explain why.

We're a mainstay with historical sporting, cultural and political memorabilia hanging from the dark-wood walls, she said. A throwback that could just as soon be found in Dublin as Jersey. Sure, we may have a $1.95 Poor Richard Special, but "that doesn't mean we're a cheap hole-in-the-wall."

We're the place downstairs from the retro inn, decorated with antiques speaking to its 1903 opening, where Yankees legend Joe DiMaggio lived out his final weeks. He did so across the street from the apartment where Willie Nelson's guitar tuner got off the road again to be closer to what he deems the best bar on earth. (And who, in the interest of full disclosure, was my neighbor for the three nights I spent there while reporting on this week's cover story.)

It's a landmark referred to, in none other than High Roller magazine, as "one of the nicest spots in all of Atlantic City." And one that, ironically enough, quotes a Philly Mag review on the placemats: "No matter what anyone tells you, the best bar in Atlantic City is the Irish Pub."

In a dining room so decorated with Christmas lights that one could get a tan, Burke talked about potentially filing a lawsuit against the magazine. She says her business was defamed, that she was worried people would take the dive label to mean it's the down-and-dirty equivalent of a Delaware Avenue cesspool.

At a time when business is off — it's been tough since the casinos got the go-ahead to open beach bars and only got worse since a smoking ban meant visitors can only puff in the casinos — she'd called magazine editor Larry Platt to complain. She's yet to decide whether to sue and I have a feeling she won't. Platt said the piece "really meant to say it's a cool place, a praiseworthy thing. She's operating under an old definition of the term."

After Burke said she's still offended, the conversation, as most good bar ones do, quickly turned to politics.

If there's anywhere in the developed world that I thought could boast of seedier politicians than Philly, it's A.C., where more mayors than not earn federal indictments.

The conversation included Ramon Rosario, a Pub friend who in October pleaded guilty to accepting $14,000 in bribes from an undercover fed posing as a Wall Street investor interested in developing a couple of prime tracts in this booming resort. Come Feb. 1, he'll head off for likely two and a half years in the pen for his sins.

Resigned to his fate, Rosario was already yesterday's news. This, because today's news was about a sitting councilman who'd been videotaped with a hooker. The story might not have reached Marion Barry proportions, but the revelation was revealed as local cops were seeking a serial killer who was strangling — yep — hookers. (See this week's cover story.)

Hearing speculation that the councilman, "Brother" Gene Robinson, was set up because he didn't blindly back legislation supported by the ever-powerful casinos, restored my faith in Philadelphia politics and left me happy that at least somewhere else is worse off.

Until I got home.

Just as soon as I allowed myself to think that Philadelphia didn't have the most disheartening political culture this side of Tammany Hall, I was proven wrong during a conversation with a local politico who will remain nameless. Granted, there were no hooker videos or allegations of shady cash payments under the darkness of night, but what he said sickened me.

It was the story behind how Jonathan Saidel dropped out of the mayoral race in large part because Vince Fumo leaned on potential donors to yank their money out from under a loyal guy who declared his candidacy just one week ago. It had nothing to do with ability to lead; insiders speculate this was done to ensure a solid block of white voters for a white candidate. In other words, a move to set up another race-based campaign that divides us rather than moves the city forward. Because, quite frankly, that's what it takes to win elected office here.

Like Burke's protectiveness for her pub, as a Philadelphian, this offends me to the core. Because if we continue to live in a city where the color of one's skin dictates who will lead us, we've become a municipal dive that no rational man would deem an oasis.

(hickey@citypaper.net)