Tragedy in Providence

As the city continues to come to grips with the tragic shooting death of Providence police officer Cornel Young, Jr., numerous issues rear up and hit us in the face. It's ineffably sad that a fine and heroic young man should lose his life in this way. The tributes and honors with which he was laid to rest are all fully deserved.

What we'll be left with are questions, questions that will likely not be fully answered. The issue of race, of course, is first and foremost on people's minds. The city would want you to believe that Sgt. Young's black skin had nothing to do with his being shot in the adrenaline-fueled confusion of that night. While it may not have been a direct factor in this instance, the issue of race touches everything in America and we would be naïve not to acknowledge that.

Another lingering question has to do with the firing of guns by young and relatively unseasoned police officers. This is a matter fraught with emotion -- especially for those of us who have never experienced the danger faced by law enforcement officers in a situation when guns are drawn. It's completely understandable that the police hate to be second-guessed about critical split-second decisions involving the use of lethal force. But the questions have to asked and the investigation must be done.

Finally, there's the issue of a law which allows those who are deemed instigators in this kind of case to be charged with murder. We saw this with the death of Providence police Sgt. Steven Shaw, when an unarmed man, sitting handcuffed in a cruiser, was charged with murder after his accomplice opened fire while hiding in a closet. Is this a reasonable law? One would think, when intent is questionable at best, that there are other harsh penalties which can be brought against these kinds of suspects without adding on murder.

On one thing we readily agree with Mayor Cianci -- there are just too many guns out there. The tragic consequences of too many people riding around as if it's the old West are readily visible.

Taken for granite

Now that it's over, all Phillipe and Jorge can say is thank God for the tumultuous last few days of the New Hampshire primary. The results were quite a shock to us, especially after the last poll we saw on Monday, which simply asked voters, "Who are you going to vote for?" While McCain led the all candidates with 17 percent and Bill Bradley took 11 percent, the most popular response was, "Fuck you, get off my porch," which garnered a massive 52 percent.

But the drama in the Granite State at least produced a few good laughs, topped by Gary Bow-wower falling backwards off a stage at an idiotic pancake-flipping contest. Still, he was barely able to upstage George Dubya. In a moment which captured the essence of his keen intellect, W told a high school assembly that "preservation" is the key to success in a long campaign, and he intended to "preserve" right until the end. No doubt the local English teachers had dusty Mr. Dictionary down off the shelf in a jiffy to explain the difference between "preservation" and "perseverance" to their impressionable charges.

Not to be outdone, Steve "Capital Fool" Forbes, whose every public appearance was quickly phoned into Weekly World News by local residents as an alien sighting, got caught on camera on election eve, making phone calls to potential voters, all of whom thought it was a prank call. Finally, there was Bill Bradley, Princeton grad and former distinguished senator from New Jersey, out in the boondocks of Raymond, New Hampshire -- a town that makes Egypt, Maine, look like Paris -- going trailer-to-trailer, seeking votes from people who couldn't be dreamed up by Stephen King.

P&J's on-the-scene correspondent up north, computer queen Ms. PC, thought that this might mark a new trend in campaign tactics. "After pandering to the voters in Raymond, they had Bill Bradley shoveling snow in Manchester," she reported. "Maybe they can just change the whole primary process to be like those new reality TV shows -- the last candidate left standing after a series of humiliating tasks (cleaning the bathrooms in the trailers in Raymond; scaling the catch after an ice-fishing session in Wolfeboro; hosing down the parking lot around the Dumpster behind the Bradlees at the Nashua Mall; cleaning deer blood off the hood of all the pickups parked around the Milford Oval; wiping the makeup off the towels in Dan Rather's suite at the Sheraton Wayfarer) -- that would separate the men from the boys."

All in all, a fairly uneventful night. It was wonderful to see Dubya hustle to concede before 9 p.m., when all the live coverage would kick in, thus avoiding having to suck it up in front of every national network. Dollar Bill showed some heart and a pulse, and McCain proved he's going to keep after Dubya until the bitter end. But if we have to keep watching "Two-by-Four" Gore do his "shock-the-monkey" celebratory contortions while his Big Chill-obsessed harridan wife shrieks into microphone, we'll have to get out the razor blades way before September.

Spaccone City

Arthur Coia -- what a tinhorn punk.

Coia, the Barrington resident and former president of the Laborers' International Union of North America, joined the likes of locally famed two-bit hustlers Ed DiPrete, Tom Fay and Matty Smith when he got caught bilking Barrington and the state out of more than $100,000 in taxes for his prized Ferraris. This jumped-up shakedown artist copped Tuesday to a felony fraud count. But he also finagled enough money from his previous post -- including a lifetime annual salary of $250,000 -- to live in uninterrupted luxury. Still, he couldn't avoid his own version of Dumpster-diving in his backyard.

Coia had already brought disgrace to his union, which federal prosecutors claimed had ties to organized crime. Whew, there's a shocker. And reportedly it was his Ferrari scam with Viking Motors in Middletown (which, not for nuthin', got axed from dealing with the Laborers in 1996 because of their own association with Soprano-land), a deal that allowed him to register the Ferraris in Middletown, thus avoiding Barrington's higher tax rates. The whole thing led him Coia to sneak out of his Washington office and resign the Laborers' presidency before he was officially indicted in the Ocean State.

Of course, Coia is the guy who was buddy-buddy with President Billary while in his D.C. position, and was known for giving the First Philanderer expensive golf clubs as gifts. He also strong-armed Hillary into giving a speech to a Laborers' annual convention, despite warnings from the feds that the union reeked of corruption. Then again, who has rounder heels than the Clintons when someone had money in hand? They've pulled some financial stunts that would have made John Gotti turn green with envy.

You can take the boy out of Vo Dilun, but you can't take Vo Dilun out of the boy, and the heavily cologned, ostentatiously-appointed Coia ended up going in the tank for what to him was chump change, a la the Gerber Baby and his $10,000 Walt's Roast Beef special, Tommy's tuxedos, and Milkshake Matty's car repairs. In the bigger scheme of thins, all these were chickenfeed stunts from a former governor, Supreme Court chief justice and speaker of the House. Thanks, Art, for making us look like a land of penny-ante crooks once again. We've come a long way, baby.

A nice little windfall

Now about that new city ordinance, passed by the Providence City Council, which instructs all taverns, clubs and bars that employee bouncers, doorkeepers or crowd control personnel to register with the police? All folks acting in such a capacity must show at police headquarters and have an ID picture taken. They are to wear said identification cards while working and (get this) there's a $25 fee for each person registered.

Your superior correspondents have seen the perfunctory form that the bouncers are required to fill out (name, address, Social Security number, date if birth, phone number and employer). No training or rules of conduct involved, just an issuance of a photo ID and payment of $25 per-person. Seems like a nice little shakedown, at the expense of city club owners, to add thousands of dollars to the city coffers. Beautiful.

Art for commerce's sake

Here's an e-mail we received at Casa D last week:

A few weeks ago I received a packet sent out by the Rhode Island Tourism Commission, with a cover letter from RISCA (Rhode Island State Council for the Arts) calling for artist's proposals for a joint venture with Hasbro. It seems that some time this year, Hasbro will have joined forces with both institutions to sponsor an installation of Giant Mr Potato Heads throughout the city, in the vein of the cow installations in Europe that brought in happy flocks of camera-toting tourists. Each artist's (???) sketched proposal will be reviewed by Hasbro, which will retain the right to choose or refuse a design.

Each acceptable project team will have a fiberglass potato-head body supplied to them, with Hasbro possibly paying for additional costs of paint, etc. It is stated explicitly that the designs must contain NO political or sexual references (since when was art supposed to mean anything?), and my favorite stipulation is, "no logos of any sort."

Is it me, or is the art community being asked to prostitute itself and become billboards of crass commercialism in the guise of a cultural attraction? Most companies would kill to be able to have their products visibly placed in public spots, with tour buses slogging the masses from icon to icon. I`d also be very curious as to who is funding this project. Surely not a taxpayer such as myself? Have you come across this mailing? I'd be curious to know your reaction. Unfortunately I threw it away in disgust, and I cannot provide you with more details. It's just been bothering me ever since . . . something seems not quite right. Thanks for listening.

P.S. This makes me want to start working on a whole series of fiberglass crinkle cuts complete with blood and intestine attached to strew far and near.
-- Beth Whitney

We don't have anything to add. Seems like you've said it all, Beth.

Kudos and congrats

. . . to recently resigned state Representative Michael Farrell of Central Falls, for his pledge to go door-to-door in his old district to explain "his side of the story" about his most recent arrest for domestic abuse. Too bad Casa Diablo isn't in his district. We'd love to hear his lame-ass excuse. This just goes to show once again that denial is not merely a river in Egypt.

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