Posted on 12/11/2005 8:15:22 PM PST by doug from upland
You'd die for a table at the most exclusive diner in all California
LA Notebook by Chris Ayres
THE MOST exclusive restaurant in California is located a few miles north of San Francisco and has been in business since 1852. It is exclusive because patrons can request in advance exactly what they want to eat, thus avoiding the inconvenience of a menu, and because it has served only seven customers yes, seven in the past decade. There is, however, one significant downside to the cachet of eating at this establishment: the after-dinner cocktail is served in a syringe, while the patron is strapped tightly to a hospital trolley. Welcome, dear readers, to the Final Meal canteen at San Quentin State Prison.
I have been fascinated by the last meal requests of death-row inmates ever since I discovered the page on the California Department of Corrections website that lists each pre-execution menu in course-by-course detail, as though it were part of some bizarre new Martha Stewart cookbook.
It is hard not to study each item in search of clues about the nature of the inmates alleged crime, his guilt (or lack of) and his state of mind. Why, for example, did Darrell Rich, the prolific rapist/murderer, order only tea and broth, while his fellow inmate and murderer Stephen Anderson requested two grilled cheese sandwiches, one pint of cottage cheese (plain, no fruit), corn mixture, one slice of peach pie, one pint of chocolate chip ice-cream, and radishes?
To be honest, Im surprised San Quentin publishes these oddly compelling menus, as reading them tends to humanise the condemned. Many requests, after all, are for comfort food a reminder that the murderer was once a child; or that the rapist once owned a teddy bear. Take Robert Massie, who managed to escape his first death sentence because of a Supreme Court ruling, then found himself on death row again for the murder of a man during an off-licence robbery.
Massie was a violent idiot, unsympathetic in every way, apart from his choice of last meal, which included two large vanilla milkshakes with extra crispy French fries.
In terms of garnering sympathy, the milkshakes were right up there with the request by Tom Thompson, another rapist/murderer, for a hot fudge sundae. Those two images rapist/murderer, and hot fudge sundae are so incongruous as to be almost comic.
Yet there comes a point when the scale of the final pig-out can dehumanise the prisoner. Personally, I can barely force down a piece of toast before a job interview. So how come William Bonin (the Freeway Killer) managed to tuck away two large pepperoni and sausage pizzas and three pints of coffee ice-cream before his lethal injection?
But if appetite equals guilt, what should we make of Donald Beardslee, the first (and only) death row inmate so far executed by Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger? All he consumed before his death was a glass of grapefruit juice. Yet he was no less of a killer than Bonin.
I mention all this because of the execution scheduled for a week today of Stanley Tookie Williams. Williams, who co-founded the Crips street gang in 1971, is fast becoming another public relations disaster for Arnold, the Governor.
In jail the gang leader has authored childrens books that preach non-violence; gained the support of celebrities and politicians; been nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize; and become the subject of a TV movie starring Jamie Foxx.
The Governor has called for a clemency hearing on Thursday, a voluntary move that suggests he is thinking seriously about it.
My own instincts are against the death penalty, for reasons that include the current transformation of Williams into a cult hero, and the terrible psychological burden put upon those who carry out the killings.
Lets also spare a thought for the poor old death-row cook: preparing a family turkey at Christmas is bad enough; imagine the pressure of grilling someones final rib-eye.
But if the death penalty is going to be enforced, there seems no better candidate than Williams. If the founder of the Crips can be granted clemency, then surely no one deserves the needle and the trolley.
My only plea to Mr Schwarzenegger is to keep the details of the final meal private. It is hard to will a man to die when all he wants is a vanilla milkshake.
Best darn tacos north of Lax home of westchester
LOL!
I was fascinated to hear Snoop Dog say that Tookie "is our Martin Luther King."
How sick is that...
Excellent choice.
UM.... I... uh.. would imagine that its been... um... plugged... *cough*
Really? Damn, that's not right... I guess my killing spree is off then.
Mark
Is this the right size?
GOOD idea!
If he wanted "In-and-Out" I might be sympathetic. I think there's one near the prison.
He obviously doesn't know that the actual execution is never known. A computer determines which button delivers the lethal injection. None of the button pushers knows which one of them delivered the fatal poisons.
I think that is Westchester, home of LAX.
LAWX.
> The cook would have no remorse for cooking the last meal for the inmate.
I volunteer.
(Denny Crane: "I Don't Want To Socialize With A Pinko Liberal Democrat Commie.Say What You Like About Republicans. We Stick To Our Convictions. Even When We Know We're Dead Wrong.")
(Denny Crane: "I Don't Want To Socialize With A Pinko Liberal Democrat Commie.Say What You Like About Republicans. We Stick To Our Convictions. Even When We Know We're Dead Wrong.")
(Denny Crane: "I Don't Want To Socialize With A Pinko Liberal Democrat Commie.Say What You Like About Republicans. We Stick To Our Convictions. Even When We Know We're Dead Wrong.")
(Denny Crane: "I Don't Want To Socialize With A Pinko Liberal Democrat Commie.Say What You Like About Republicans. We Stick To Our Convictions. Even When We Know We're Dead Wrong.")
(Denny Crane: "I Don't Want To Socialize With A Pinko Liberal Democrat Commie.Say What You Like About Republicans. We Stick To Our Convictions. Even When We Know We're Dead Wrong.")
(Denny Crane: "I Don't Want To Socialize With A Pinko Liberal Democrat Commie.Say What You Like About Republicans. We Stick To Our Convictions. Even When We Know We're Dead Wrong.")
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