(so much more compelling when she’s not being choked out by Ray Liotta)

I ended a long evening after an even longer day Tuesday by retiring to the master boudoir of my swinging bachelor hovel pad much as I often do — with the dulcet tones of WFAN’s overnight fixture Tony Page lulling me to a deep, deep slumber.

I awoke at about 7:30am to an altogether different pair of voices.  A rather excited Mike Francesca and Charles McCord gushing over last Sunday’s penultimate episode of “The Sopranos”.

“What a way for Dr. Melfi to end it.”  mused Francesca.

“Tony’s whole world is crashing down on him!”
echoed McCord.

“I don’t know….,” (pause for dramatic effect) “….how you could’ve watched ONE MINUTE of this series over the last decade, and not been watching on Sunday.”
swore Francesca.

Much as I appreciate Long Island City’s answer to Tom Shales and his noble attempts to keep up with the cultural zeitgeist, there was a Red Sox/Yankees game on at the same time.  And there is a terrific modern device — I believe they call it a video recorder or something like that — that allows persons who are otherwise consumed with other things (like say, watching sports) to enjoy programming like “The Sopranos” at their leisure.

Unless of course, some blowhard gives away the hot moments.

Though I think it’s wonderful that Eric Mangini is branching out, surely there must be some way for David Chase to reshoot the series finale to give Mike Francesca a richly deserved cameo.  It doesn’t seem right that Chris Russo’s IMDB filmography is more impressive, however slightly.