January 10, 1999: "The Sopranos" Premieres

January 10, 1999, 25 years ago: The Sopranos premieres on HBO. James Gandolfini plays Tony Soprano, a man working his way up through organized crime in northern New Jersey, while juggling raising a family and going through mistresses, all while trying to hold off panic attacks.

It was the 1st production, either TV show or movie, that showed mobsters as having regular lives. Previous films such as The Godfather and Goodfellas showed their family lives as subordinate to "the life" in "the family." Much as The Dick Van Dyke Show was the 1st sitcom that was not strictly a family-based comedy or a work-based comedy, but a combination of the two, The Sopranos threaded the needle.

Of course, being on pay-TV -- sometimes called "prestige television" -- it could be a 1-hour drama with profanity, sex scenes, and awful violence. Show creator/producer/writer David Chase wanted it to be as authentic as possible. He may have succeeded too well, often seeing fans treat Tony as a hero, and insisting to them that Tony was not a hero. Over 8 years, 6 seasons (there were long gaps) and 86 episodes, it won 21 Emmy Awards.

It made stars out of James Gandolfini, Edie Falco, Michael Imperioli, Vincent Pastore, Robert Iler, Jamie-Lyn Sigler, Tony Sirico, Drea de Matteo, David Proval, Aida Turturro and Steve Schirripa; boosted the careers of Lorraine Bracco, Joe Pantoliano and Steve Buscemi; revived those of older actors Dominic Chianese and Nancy Marchand; showed that legendary Four Seasons singer Frankie Valli could act as well as sing; and showed that Steven Van Zandt could be more than Bruce Springsteen's guitarist and arranger.

And the opening sequence, showing Gandolfini as Tony driving home from New York through North Jersey, is iconic. Though an observant New Jerseyan such as myself will note that the familiar images are a bit out of order. Sure, he could go through the Lincoln Tunnel, be able to see the Statue of Liberty (and, until 2001, the World Trade Center), and Newark's Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, and go through the Ironbound section of Newark and see planes taking off from Newark Airport, before reaching home in North Caldwell, Essex County.

But he wouldn't get that close to Lady Liberty, or go over the Newark Bay Bridge, unless he left Manhattan via the Holland Tunnel. And he wouldn't pass the Goethals Bridge (which finally closed for a long-needed replacement in 2017), Elizabeth or the Linden oil refinery, all of which are south of the Airport.

The show was rough. It was violent. It was profane. It was ugly, no matter how many people on it were good-looking. Still, it was beloved, and it was epic.

When the aforementioned Michael Kay had Van Zandt on as a guest on his YES Network talk show CenterStage, Little Steven commented on how it was to be a part of two things -- the band and the show -- that helped to ingrain New Jersey into America's pop-culture consciousness.

Van Zandt played Silvio Dante, Tony's chief advisor, or consigliere. He has often been asked to comment on being part of 2 iconic pieces of pop culture based in New Jersey.

Some of the New Jersey locations were made famous as well: The house in North Caldwell, that stood in for the Soprano family house; Satin Dolls, the strip club on Route 17 in Lodi that stood in for the gang's hangout, the Bada Bing!; Centanni's Meat Market in Elizabeth, which was re-dressed as Satriale's Pork Store, another gang hangout, said to be in Kearny, and since demolished in real life; and Holsten's, the Bloomfield ice cream parlor that stood in for the diner in the series' famous final scene in 2007.

Bloomfield is where my parents were living when I was born (but not where I was born), and we still have friends in the area. I've been to Holsten's, both before and after that scene was shot there, and I say it's the best ice cream parlor in New Jersey. You wanna make somethin' of it?

Nancy Marchand, who played Tony's mother Livia, died in 2000, after the show's 2nd season, and the part was not recast. James Gandolfini died in 2013. Frank Vincent, who played Phil Leotardo, died in 2017. Tony Sirico, who played Peter Paul Gualtieri, a.k.a. "Paulie Walnuts," died in 2022. The other members of the main cast are still alive.

Top 10 Myths About the 2000s

The decade from January 1, 2000 to December 31, 2009. We still don't really know what to call it. Some call it "The 2000s," pronounced like "The Two Thousands." Some say "The Aughts." Some say "The Aughties." "The Oh-Ohs," as in "00's," never seemed to catch on with anyone.

Time magazine, noting the 9/11 attacks, the Iraq War, Hurricane Katrina, the Crash of 2008 and the ensuing recession, called it "The Decade From Hell." Their editors did not foresee what would happen from 2016 to 2019 -- or, so far, in the 2020s.

I did posts like this for the 1950s, the 1960s, the 1970s and the 1990s. I also did "Top 10 Reasons Why the 1980s Were the Worst Decade," tackling some of that decade's myths. Now, I move on to the 2000s, the name I'm going to use for simplicity's sake. After all, the nostalgia wave for that decade is already underway.

Top 10 Myths About the 2000s

1. George W. Bush Wasn't So Bad. Compared to Donald Trump, sure, anybody wouldn't seem so bad. And, now, Dubya, who served as the 43rd President of the United States from January 20, 2001 to January 20, 2009, has the reputation of being a nice enough guy who wasn't very smart and was in over his head. Well, in this case, two out of three would have been bad enough.

Giving the 2002 State of the Union Address,

in front of Vice President Dick Cheney and

Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert.

Now that was an axis of evil.

But he wasn't a nice enough guy. He lied, cheated and stole to gain the Presidency. And he smeared anyone who got in his way, even after he got into office. He was a draft dodger who called people who opposed his war of choice unpatriotic. He presided over the release of the name of an undercover CIA agent, just because her husband had blown the whistle on one of his lies about that war.

2. The Period After the 9/11 Attacks Was a Time of Great National Unity. It was not. Sure, we were all united behind our troops. But there was no great unity behind the President and his team. Yes, Dubya had a 90 percent approval rating. But most Democrats knew that this guy was not going to be able to get the job done, we were just afraid to say so, and hoping we were wrong.

But the Republicans were already saying that former President Bill Clinton had let bin Laden get away, that he "let him slip through his fingers," or even that a foreign government "handed him bin Laden on a silver platter, and he refused it." This was a lie. As is usually the case when Republicans tell lies and get caught, they didn't care, and kept on lying.

Suppose Al Gore had been President at the time, and had been unable to stop the attacks. Think there would have been any national unity? Yeah, surrrre: The Republicans, in control of the House of Representatives, would have impeached him for not stopping them. They wouldn't have been able to get enough votes in the Senate to remove him, but it would have poisoned the rest of his term.

Even if he had gotten Osama bin Laden before Election Day 2002, that election would have been a bloodbath for the Democrats, and he would have been doomed for 2004.

3. Saddam Hussein Had to be Stopped At All Costs. How many dictators have the Republicans refused to stop? And how many of them killed more people in fewer years than Saddam did?

We will never know if the people of Iraq would have toppled him before he died of natural causes, because we'll never know when that would have been. What we do know is that it wasn't worth it for our country to topple him.

4. The Republicans Were Patriotic, the Democrats Were Not. This has been the conservative argument since 1948, and it has been a big fat lie the whole time. This was especially true in the Dubya Years.

Case in point from the decade in question: The U.S. Senate race in Georgia in 2002. Max Cleland came out of the Vietnam War with his left arm, but not his right, and neither of his legs. He was elected to the U.S. Senate from Georgia in 1996. He was defeated for re-election by Saxby Chambliss, a Congressman who hadn't served in Vietnam, and questioned Cleland's patriotism, because Cleland wasn't sufficiently supportive of Bush's proposed war in Iraq.

Bush never wanted to win the war. He only wanted to have the war, to use as a club over his opponents' patriotism. He still believes that his father's biggest mistake in the 1990-91 Persian Gulf War was ending it too soon, and not securing the patriotic vote for himself in his bid for re-election. Bush the son didn't just want the threat of war and terrorism for the Republicans to win in 2002, and the actual war and the threat of terrorism to win in 2004. He wanted it for 2006 and 2008, even though he would no longer be on the ballot in those elections.

Give John McCain credit: When he ran in 2008, he did say he wanted to end the war, by winning it. Whether he knew how, we'll never know. But at least he knew that it had to end, one way or another.

And speaking of the 2008 election:

5. Barack Obama Was Under-qualified for the Presidency. That argument has been completely shot to hell by the Republicans falling all over themselves to nominate Donald Trump. Obama also had more years in public service than the man the Republicans nominated to beat him in 2012, Mitt Romney, despite Romney being 14 years older.

Furthermore, length of experience isn't necessarily an indication of a good Presidency. George H.W. Bush probably had the most varied experience of any Presidential nominee ever, and he was not a good President. Better than his son, though. And, given the power of the Governor of Texas compared with most other Governors, George W. was less qualified in 2000 than was Obama in 2008.

When John McCain was the Republican nominee in 2008, he had a big edge over Obama on experience. The problem was, his experience was mostly in foreign policy and national security. He had hoped that those would be the most important issues in that election.

Instead, the economy went into the tank. He had having lived most of his life on the federal government's dime: A son of a naval officer, then a Naval Academy midshipman, then a naval officer himself, then a Congressman, then a Senator. Indeed, the most time he'd ever spent away from the federal government taking care of him was while he was a prisoner of war. His biggest experience in regard to the civilian economy and its difficulties was getting caught as one of the "Keating Five," in a banking scandal.

In contrast, Obama did have experience in dealing with the real civilian economy. He and his wife Michelle were still paying off their student debts in 2008. They understood the struggles of Americans who weren't rich. McCain, whatever his other virtues, didn't understand, because of, yes, his experience. When it came to handling the economy, Obama was qualified, and McCain was not -- and that's before we get into economic ideology.

6. Technological Deprivation. There is a perception that kids who grew up then were deprived when it came to technology. But there were already smartphones and Game Boys. At home, there were already laptops and Xboxes. Social media only started to blossom in 2006, but more than half of the things that kids can do with their phones in 2022, they could do in 2000.

The Xbox, introduced by Microsoft on November 15, 2001

7. It Was a Barren Time for Music. Yes, a lot of it was bad. Some of it was very, very bad. Most of that was the computerized stuff, like the monotonous Sean Paul; or attempts at being soulful that ended up sounding like whining, like James Blunt's "You're Beautiful" and Daniel Powter's "Bad Day." (Sad to say, those 2 songs and Sean Paul's "Temperature" were all big hits at the same time in early 2006. Talk about some bad days.)

But it was also the decade in which Eminem, Jay-Z and his eventual wife Beyoncé, Christina Aguilera, OutKast and Pharrell Williams released their best work. It was the decade when Mariah Carey and Mary J. Blige each fell off both commercially and in their private lives, but each made a fantastic comeback on both fronts

He's rich, he's accomplished, he's immensely respected in his field,

he gets to live in New York, and he gets to sleep with Beyoncé.

So why is it so hard to find a picture of Jay-Z looking happy?

It was the decade when the Dixie Chicks (as The Chicks were then known) pissed off conservatives, faced an ugly backlash, and received awards that proved they won that battle. And it was the decade when Pink, Alicia Keys, Norah Jones, Avril Lavigne, Kelly Clarkson and Amy Winehouse debuted, producing epic albums and stunning performances. So there was plenty of good music to go along with the crap that the music industry threw at us.

8. The Sopranos Was the Greatest TV Show of All Time. The 1990s began the format of "prestige television." The format really took off in the 2000s, led by The Sopranos, which ran from 1999 to 2007.

Look, as much as I would like a show set in my native North Jersey and in nearby New York City to be the greatest TV show of all time, The Sopranos ain't it.

Yes, it was a very well-written drama. Yes, it could also be funny at times. Yes, the acting was great. Yes, it had some classic moments. And, yes, it also made the point, very well, that the kind of lives that these "men of honor" were leading was dishonorable, often horrible, how their real families suffered because of their activities in "the family," and should not be emulated.

So, I'm not saying it was a bad show. Not by a long shot. I am saying that, like all shows in which criminals are the main characters, it was not for everyone. That's a matter of taste. For all the violence and the over-reliance on profanity, there is much to be said in the show's favor. It deserved most of the accolades it got. And I'm not objecting to the ending of the final episode, either. Once the shock wore off, I realized that it was wholly appropriate.

Left to right: Steve Schirippa, Michael Imperioli,

James Gandolfini, Steven Van Zandt and Tony Sirico

But I can name at least one show in every decade of the TV era that did those things better:

* 1950s: Bonanza. (Barely: It premiered on September 12, 1959.)

* 1960s: Star Trek. (The original series.)

* 1970s: M*A*S*H.

* 1980s: Hill Street Blues.

* 1990s: ER.

* 2000s: The West Wing.

* 2010s: Mad Men.

* 2020s: CBS' FBI Franchise.

9. The Kardashian-Jenner Sisters Were Talentless "Heirheads." No. They started out in their father Robert Kardashian's music agency, then built their respective fashion empires. Unlike a lot of rich people who claim it, they actually have been "job creators." Because of her makeup line, youngest sister Kylie Jenner became American's 1st billionaire under the age of 21.

Left to right: Kris, Kylie, Kourtney, Kim, Khloé and Kendall

Are they publicity-hungry? Yes. Are their love-lives complicated? Sure. Do they bring some of the vast criticism they receive on themselves? You bet. And did they have the advantage of starting out rich, making the funding of their "empires" possible? Of course. But they do have talent, and they're far from stupid.

10. The Yankees and Steroids. Yes, I know: I already addressed this one in my 1990s piece. But it gained more traction in the 2000s.

There is a perception that the New York Yankees were as guilty as any other team when it came to performance-enhancing drugs. This accusation is not merely false, it is really, really stupid. The Yankees most often cited are:

* Roger Clemens. Men tried to prove him guilty in court. They couldn't.

* Alex Rodriguez. The evidence that he used them as a Yankee is flimsy.

* Jason Giambi and...

* Gary Sheffield. Neither helped the Yankees win a World Series. Giambi only helped the Yankees win one Pennant, they lost the World Series, to another cheating team no less, and he was hardly among the team's most consequential players.

* Andy Pettitte. He used, one time, to come back from an injury. That's hardly the same as gaining an unfair advantage. And the Yankees didn't win the Pennant that season, so they didn't benefit from it.

In contrast, look at the Yankees' postseason opponents in the years from 1996 to 2007, which corresponds to Joe Torre's seasons as manager and also, roughly, to "The Steroid Era." In chronological order:

* The Texas Rangers, in the 1996, '98 and '99 American League Division Series. Iván Rodríguez. It didn't work.

* The Baltimore Orioles, in the 1996 AL Championship Series. Rafael Palmeiro, Brady Anderson, and possibly others. It didn't work. It did, however, work well enough for the Orioles to beat the Yankees out for the 1997 AL Eastern Division title.

* The Atlanta Braves, in the 1996 and 1999 World Series. As far as I know, they were clean. If they did use, it didn't work.

* The Cleveland Indians, in the 1997 ALDS and the 1998 ALCS. As far as I know, they were clean, although there has always been suspicion, if not evidence, against Jim Thome. If they did use, it worked in '97, but not in '98.

* The San Diego Padres, in the 1998 World Series. Ken Caminiti. Presuming he was their only steroid user, it didn't work, as he went 2-for-14 with 1 RBI.

* The Boston Red Sox, in the 1999 ALCS. as far as I know, this edition of the Sox was clean. The most prominent Sox player of the 1990s who got caught, Mo Vaughn, was already gone by this point. If they did use, it didn't work -- this time.

* The Oakland Athletics, in the 2000 and 2001 ALDS. Both Jason and Jeremy Giambi, and Miguel Tejada. It didn't work.

* The Seattle Mariners, in the 2000 and 2001 ALCS. As far as I know, they were clean, but I'm always going to have doubts about Jay Buhner. He went bald early, and his plate appearances went way down due to injuries after 1997. Suffice it to say, even as good as he was, the production he gave the Mariners at right field from 1988 to his retirement after the 2001 season did not match the production the Yankees got at that position over the same period, first from Jesse Barfield, then, starting in 1993, from Paul O'Neill. So let's stop pretending that trading Buhner away was a mistake. The Yankees were better without him than the Mariners were with him.

* The New York Mets, in the 2000 World Series: Mike Piazza. Come on, admit it: Piazza lost a lot more of his cool than Roger Clemens did. If anybody was in "roid rage," it was Piazza. And it didn't work.

* The Arizona Diamondbacks, in the 2001 World Series: Matt Williams confessed. Luis Gonzalez had a Brady Anderson-type career, with his 2001 season being his version of Anderson's 1996, so don't tell me he wasn't using. And can we really be sure that Curt Schilling wasn't using? He's certainly arrogant enough to believe he could use and get away with it.

* The team now known as the Los Angeles Angels, in the 2002 and 2005 ALDS. As far as I know, they were clean.

* The Minnesota Twins, in the 2003 and 2004 ALDS. As far as I know, they were clean. If they did use, it didn't work.

* The Boston Red Sox, in the 2003 and 2004 ALCS. David Ortiz got caught. Manny Ramirez got caught. Take those two off the Sox, and they don't even make the Playoffs, and they franchise is, most likely, still looking for their 1st World Championship since 1918. And they couldn't have been the only ones. Trot Nixon? Mark Bellhorn? Bill Mueller? Kevin Millar? Kevin Youkilis? And Schilling was on that team. I want the blood on that sock tested!

* The Florida Marlins, in the 2003 World Series. Iván Rodríguez again.

* The Detroit Tigers, in the 2006 ALDS. Iván Rodríguez again.

* The Cleveland Indians, in the 2007 ALDS. As far as I know, they were clean.

So, as you can see, no team has been hurt more by steroid use than the Yankees -- other teams', and, as little as there was, their own. If any team's titles -- Division, Pennant, World Series -- from that period are invalid, the Yankees are far from 1st on that list.

The 2000 to 2009 decade was full of myths, some of them exaggerations of the truth, and some of them outright lies, that have persisted to this day. It is time to accept the truth.

Top 5 Reasons You Can't Blame David Chase for How He Ended "The Sopranos"

June 10, 2007, 10 years ago: The final first-run episode of The Sopranos airs on HBO.

Premiering on January 10, 1999, it's been called one of the greatest shows in television history. It even caused Yankee broadcasters John Sterling and Michael Kay, and WFAN hosts Mike Francesa and Chris "Mad Dog" Russo (which sure sounds like the name of a Mob guy, but he'd never have made it as one -- nor would I), to stop talking about sports on the radio, and talk about the show instead.

It made stars out of James Gandolfini, Edie Falco, Michael Imperioli, Vincent Pastore, Robert Iler, Jamie-Lyn Sigler, Tony Sirico, Drea de Matteo, David Proval, Aida Turturro and Steve Schirripa; boosted the careers of Lorraine Bracco, Joe Pantoliano and Steve Buscemi; revived those of older actors Dominic Chianese and Nancy Marchand; showed that legendary Four Seasons singer Frankie Valli could act as well as sing; and showed that Steven Van Zandt could be more than Bruce Springsteen's guitarist and arranger.

And the opening sequence, showing Gandolfini as Tony driving home from New York through North Jersey, is iconic. Though an observant New Jerseyan such as myself will note that the familiar images are a bit out of order. Sure, he could go through the Lincoln Tunnel, be able to see the Statue of Liberty (and, until 2001, the World Trade Center), and Newark's Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, and go through the Ironbound section of Newark and see planes taking off from Newark Airport, before reaching home in North Caldwell, Essex County.

But he wouldn't get that close to Lady Liberty, or go over the Newark Bay Bridge, unless he left Manhattan via the Holland Tunnel. And he wouldn't pass the Goethals Bridge (which finally closed for a long-needed replacement today), Elizabeth or the Linden oil refinery, all of which are south of the Airport.

The show was rough. It was violent. It was profane. It was ugly, no matter how many people on it were good-looking. Still, it was beloved, and it was epic.

When the aforementioned Michael Kay had Van Zandt on as a guest on his YES Network talk show CenterStage, Little Steven commented on how it was to be a part of two things -- the band and the show -- that helped to ingrain New Jersey into America's pop-culture consciousness.

But that last scene... 

Just as Journey sings, "Don't stop... " it stops, the screen goes black (no fade), and there's nothing on the screen for 10 whole seconds, before the closing credits start.

It was filmed at Holsten's, in my original hometown of Bloomfield, Essex County, not far from the North Caldwell house that stood in for those of Tony and his brooding brood. It's not actually a diner: It's an ice cream parlor. I've been there 3 times.

That last scene has been parodied a few times (notice Tony Romo and Mark Cuban in this Dallas-based one for ESPN), partly because it's so recognizable, and partly because of the mystery surrounding it.

Was Tony Soprano killed as the screen blacked out? If so, who did it -- and why?

Why did series creator David Chase choose that as, as Bob Seger would say, The Famous Final Scene?

Top 5 Reasons You Can't Blame David Chase for How He Ended The Sopranos

5. It Was His Show. He was the boss -- in full, more than Tony was ever truly boss of his family, or of his "family." Chase had every right to end his show any way he wanted.

4. It Could Have Been Worse. Much worse.

Some shows end perfectly, with a final episode, and even a final scene, that's not only in tone with the show as a whole, but fitting for the characters you've come to love.

The Fugitive was the 1st show ever to truly film a series finale. Airing on August 29, 1967, it drew the largest audience ever for a single network broadcast of a series episode to that point. That record would last until Dallas revealed who shot J.R. Ewing on November 21, 1980; and that was broken by the last episode of M*A*S*H on Februrary 28, 1983, a record that still stands. And in that finale, M*A*S*H got a proper sendoff.

Also coming up with proper endings were the original version of The Odd Couple, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Happy Days, Newhart, Cheers, Friends, ER, Six Feet Under, The Shield, The Wire, Smallville, Breaking Bad, and, for some people, Dallas (the original version) and Mad Men.

Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Star Trek: Voyager, despite each of them taking until a 3rd season to really get going, all had very satisfying finales.

No one would say The Sopranos ended as well as those shows did. But if that was a mistake, then it was still Chase's mistake to make. (See also, "Lucas, George.")

It was still a better last episode than we got from lots of iconic shows. Tony did settle an account, a la Michael Corleone at the end of The Godfather. And the cut-short last scene certainly doesn't preclude a happy ending.

Compare that to the final episode of Seinfeld. Family Matters. Heroes. The reboot of Battlestar Galactica. Lost. Dexter. 30 Rock. How I Met Your Mother. Those shows' fans are still either furious or confused as hell.

Fans of Castle feared that, because Stana Katic had been fired, Kate Beckett would be killed in the Season 8 finale, and they practically demanded that the show be canceled. When it was announced that the season finale would be the series finale, the fear was that both Beckett and her husband, Rick Castle, would be killed at the end. And, for a moment, it looked like they were. But they weren't. Never had a show's fans been relieved by a show's cancellation, but many were still furious at the way they got played. (Clearly, the news that Katic was fired -- as was Tamala Jones, as Dr. Lanie Parish -- was a very cynical way of drumming up interest in the finale.)

The finale of Star Trek: Enterprise is still debated by Trekkies, due to the killing off of Connor Trinneer's Trip Tucker. But at least they got a finale. The final episode of the original series (admittedly, made in 1969, before TV shows tended to have final episodes that wrapped everything up, The Fugitive not really having set a trend) was just an ordinary episode, and a sloppy one at that. (The next-to-last one aired, "All Our Yesterdays," with a reverting-to-pre-logic Spock romancing Mariette Hartley, had the latest "stardate," but "Turnabout Intruder," with one of Captain Kirk's ex-girlfriends forcing him to switch bodies with her, was the last one aired.)

People still argue over whether the finale of the U.S. version of Life On Mars was perfect or perfectly ruined. The British, who hated that we adapted their classic 1970s throwback show in the first place, had a very different finale, then rewrote the story by adding a sequel series set in the 1980s, Ashes to Ashes, with a more whacked-out ending than any U.S. show has ever had.

ALF (hardly a great show, but beloved by many) ended on a lousy cliffhanger, because they didn't know it would be canceled when they taped it, let alone when they wrote it.

So did Mork & Mindy. Maybe all sitcoms about aliens are so doomed? Out of This World didn't have a finale, it just got canceled. At least My Favorite Martian had the advantage of airing before a wrap-it-all-up finale became expected. Stargate: Atlantis wasn't a sitcom, but it, too, ended on a cliffhanger, thus ending the entire Stargate franchise on one.

But if we presume that Tony was indeed killed, then...

3. Tony Deserved It. He was not a hero. He was not even an antihero. He was murdering scum who treated everybody (except his kids) badly. Not just his enemies, but his friends, his wife, his sisters, his mother (admittedly, no saint herself), his therapist.

If Tony was hit, whacked, dispatched, rubbed out, taken out, taken down, taken care of, whatever expression you want to use, his wife and kids didn't deserve to see him killed right in front of them. But, in the words of the immortal Velma Kelly, "He had it comin'. He had it comin'. He only had himself to blame."

2. Death Is the Show's Main Character. Not Tony. Just like the main character of Star Trek isn't Captain Kirk, it's the ship. The main character of M*A*S*H isn't Hawkeye, it's the war. The main character of Cheers isn't Sam, it's the bar. The main character of Happy Days isn't Richie or The Fonz, it's 1970s grownups' only-partly-accurate nostalgic view of the 1950s.

The Sopranos is about organized crime, and about how changing times affect the people who choose, as they call it, "the life," even those who think they're in control, or think they should be in control. Like Tony.

There are a few examples -- Uncle Junior on the show, Joe Bonnano in real life -- of mobsters who are both out of prison and elderly. But most of them die either in prison or well before they get old (or both). Indeed, the fact that Tony's father, John "Johnny Boy" Soprano, died of emphysema, probably (the continuity gets contradicted at times) before he was the last age at which we saw Tony (48), is an outlier.

The thing that most influenced the show from Day One was death. The next-most? Uncertainty. Put those 2 factors together, and the show could have ended no other way than the way it did: Not with Tony being killed right after the screen went black, but with its fans wondering if that was what had happened.

And let's not forget: On June 19, 2013, only a little over 6 years after the show ended, James Gandolfini died. A heart attack, while in Rome with his family, to accept an acting award. We're led to believe that Tony was born in 1959, making him 48 years old when we last saw him. Gandolfini was born in 1961, so death came to him shortly before he would have turned 52.

Indeed, if the show had ended with Tony definitively alive, it would have been out of character for the show.

Gandolfini's death certainly eliminates the possibility of a reunion show, as such a show would have to acknowledge the death of both Gandolfini and Tony. Although The Sopranos: The Next Generation, with A.J. struggling with his own intellectual inadequacy to run "the family," and Meadow, a law student the last time we saw her, as his consigliera, might work.

And the biggest reason the ending that Chase chose was the right one for the series?

1. People Are Talking. Still. Think about it. Suppose Chase had decided to end all ambiguity, and filmed a death scene for Tony.

Or, suppose he had read the Song of Ice and Fire books, written by fellow North Jerseyan George R.R. Martin, who knows a thing or two about killing off beloved characters. (The joke is that he can't go on Twitter because he's already killed 140 characters.) The TV series based on it, Game of Thrones, was still 4 years away from premiering (also on HBO), but A Storm of Swords (the 3rd book in the series) had appeared 7 years earlier.

Suppose Chase had "gone Red Wedding" and let one of Tony's enemies, or representatives of more than one of them, wipe Tony, Carmela, A.J. and Meadow out in a single stroke. (Or maybe have Meadow escape, to seek revenge in a new show later on, a la Arya Stark.)

Sure, it would have shocked people, and we'd still be talking about it. After all, half a century later, we still talk about how all the Cartwright wives died (only one of them violently) on Bonanza. And it's been 42 years since M*A*S*H killed off Henry Blake, but we still talk about it.

We wouldn't talk about Henry's death nearly as much if the last episode of I Love Lucy had Lucy cradling Ethel in her arms after Fred beat her to death, then asking Desi to call some of his Cuban friends to exact revenge. But that didn't happen. We don't talk about the I Love Lucy finale, because that episode was an ordinary episode. (Plus, even Lucille Ball couldn't have gotten that episode past the censors in 1957.)

But what would have generated more buzz: The most shocking ending The Sopranos could have given us, or seeing no ending at all? Clearly, having no ending at all has more people talking about the last episode of this show than of any other -- even the finale of Seinfeld, which was fucked up six ways to Sunday.

Go ahead: Name one other show whose final episode, whose final scene, generates more discussion and speculation than that of The Sopranos. There isn't one.

James Gandolfini and David Chase

For David Chase, mission accomplished.

Top 20 Signs You're From New Jersey

Top 20 Signs You're From New Jersey

1. You've had to explain to outsiders that the State consists of more than the Turnpike, Newark Airport and the Linden oil refinery.

2. You give outsiders a dirty look when they say, "You're from Jersey? What exit?" when you know full well that you use it yourself.

3. You've had to explain, "Nobody calls it 'Joisey' here. Only people from N'Yawk call it that."

4. You know a "pork roll" isn't one of those four-foot salamis.

5. You don't go "to the beach." You go "down the shore." Unless you already live in a Shore town, or are staying overnight in one, then you go "to the beach."

6. You've gone down the shore, and gotten stuck at a drawbridge, and when the bridge is fully open, you see what it's been opened for: A dinky little boat with a 100-foot-high mast. That little thing has held everybody up? Where's a torpedo when you need one?

7. You know that pizza tastes better at the shore. So do French fries.

8. You wince at the mention of "the New York Giants" and "the New York Jets" -- even if you want them to win.

9. You've ever told a Ranger fan, "The Hudson River is that way. And when you get there, keep walking!"

10. You've emphasized the first syllable in "Nutley" or "Piscataway."

11. You've had to explain what "a Rutgers" is.

12. You've ever said, upon traveling to another State, "Whattaya mean, I gotta pump my own gas? What kinda crazy place is this? You pump my gas, or else what am I payin' ya for?"

13. You refer to the Statewide newspaper as just "The Ledger," not "The Star-Ledger."

14. You still call MVS "the DMV." Sometimes with a profane adjective thrown in.

15. You've had to explain that the Governor isn't that bad -- knowing that he (or, in the former case of Christine Todd Whitman, she) is.

16. You've never known about any real mobsters that were like Tony Soprano, because you know full well that a guy like that would get whacked before he turned 40.

17. You still lament that Bamberger's was taken over by Macy's.

18. You've called a cab because the bus is half an hour late, and you know the cab will still get there before the next bus is due -- and that's if the next bus is on time, which it won't be.

19. You never refer to a mall by its name. It's not Woodbridge Center, it's just "Woodbridge"; it's not Menlo Park Mall, it's just "Menlo"; it's not "Garden State Plaza," it's "Paramus," etc.

And finally...

20. No matter how much further you still have to go, you always feel better when you get back into the State, whether it's coming out of the Lincoln Tunnel, coming over the Delaware Memorial Bridge, or any of the Pennsylvania crossings. Even if you live an hour away from said crossing, getting back into Jersey still makes you feel like, "I'm home."