Not so Sharpe

What a delightfully meaty and news-packed story on the flatulent union-busting blowhard, Henry Sharpe, on the front of the Sunday Urinal! This preposterous puff piece on the former CEO of Brown & Sharpe, who just happens to be a former member of the board of the Other Paper, didn't even deserve to be in the Lifebeat section, and was a Lewinsky job of immense proportions.

What could possibly lead an editor to allow this type of drivel to run as a front-pager? Or are Phillipe & Jorge the only ones who find the following Jennifer Levitz prose to be absolute blather: "(Sharpe) stops on the trail and looks across the pond, at his house. He and Peggy raised three children there. Decks reach out over the water. An old canoe is propped against the garage, as are stacks of firewood. `Look at the lovely spot,' he says."

Wow. Bow-wow.

Since Henry Sharpe's main claim to fame is having had the police spray pepper gas at his striking workers back in the '80s, perhaps this story was a none-too-subtle indication of the growing enmity on Fountain Street between the Providence Newspaper Guild and BeloJo management. Or is it just another abysmal display of plummeting standards, such as management's decision to shoot themselves in the foot by delaying publication of a column critical of the Belo-backed :CueCat (see story on page one of this issue), and allowing the business editor's son to write a prominently-placed story with about as much substance as the very dull Sharpe piece. The laddie's effort was about the Rhode Island Boy Scouts, of which he is a member, yet there was no mention of the serious intolerance of gays problem that afflicts the organization. Hard-hitting, indeed.

The Urinal employees we've spoken with are livid about these instances of belittling journalistic standards, and newsroom morale is said to be similar of that aboard the Kursk in its waning hours. Celebrating the lifestyle of a retired, clapped-out old white union-basher, in addition to lacking relevance, is so absurd as to almost be funny. Not quite so funny as old Henry's mistreatment of his workers, or his wife's lobbying for an incinerator at Quonset Point years ago, but once you've made your bucks, let 'em eat cake, right? And the free fall continues on Fountain Street.

Shrubbery

Well, P&J hate to say it, but it's almost time for the little moron Dubya to start putting together a cabinet. And don't think for a minute that there will be any bipartisanship displayed under the guidance of Poppy, "Big Time" Cheney and "Dog Track Time" Baker, no matter what the delusional liberal pundits are suggesting, as a show of respect for the public's equal loathing for both candidates.

This is when things really start to get interesting. Naturally, the man who Dubya refers to as Adam Clayton Colon-Bowel is in line for secretary of state, with Stormin' Norman Schwartzkopf heading for defense as soon as he gets home from hunting in Spain with King Juan Carlos and Bobby Knight. (True story, we swear, on a stack of Oscar Wilde novels.) God, those three oafs make Elmer Fudd look like the Deerslayer.

For the National Security Council, we have Cunnilingus Rice (OK, this is an absolutely horrendous and tasteless joke, but we just had to do it), and for head of the EPA, we think that any of about 300 rich Big Oil men or strip miners would do, although one mustn't rule out a major toxics manufacturer like the CEO of Ciba-Geigy. P&J still haven't figured out who else should be on Junior's list, but we would welcome suggestions. And Dubya might just keep the ferociously unattractive Janet Reno as AG, particularly once he learns that Roy Cohn is dead.

Timing is everything

Being ever so continental, Phillipe and Jorge are of course fans of the jogo bonito, the beautiful game -- soccer. So, we were thrilled to see both Brown and URI selected to host first-round NCAA tournament games this past weekend, and, naturally, looked forward to donning our Dr. Martens and Queen(s) of the South replica jerseys and heading for the fields.

But since the athletic department at URI is still incapable of discerning its ass from its elbow, P&J's plans to take in a Friday night game in Kingston and a Sunday contest in La Prov were scuttled. This because the geniuses at the URI athletic department decided to move their game to the exact same time as the Brown match, 1 p.m. on Sunday. We can't really argue for not wanting to play on a Friday night, but URI officials could have rescheduled for Saturday, or at least struck a deal with Brown for kickoffs on Sunday about four hours apart, so local fans could go to both games -- a real treat for any Vo Dilun aficionado.

But nooo . . . that would actually make sense. P&J were pleased that both URI and Brown won and advanced in the tourney, and Brown will host Duke up on College Hill on Sunday, November 26. URI must travel to North Carolina for their Sunday match, but there's still time to see if NC would come up here, so URI and Brown could play at the same time again, just to let the local fans know how much they care.

November surprise

For weeks we've been hearing that the big Plunder Dome blow comes before Thanksgiving. Well, we have a deadline here, so there's no telling if E-1 or a new president has been named by the time this paper appears on the streets. JARhead Jim Taricani, I-Team stalwart and a contributor to the Phoenix, mentioned on last week's Deadly Experiment that "before Thanksgiving" was the date he heard for the big indictment but, so far, no cigar. We either have the world's most meticulous dry cleaner checking for those jacket stains or us inside tipsters have been foiled again.

November surprise

Another area of post-election concern for P&J, following Dorian's loss to Linc Chafee, is at the Weygand household. Not that we are concerned about Bob and his lovely wife Fran getting by, as before you know it, the Weygand hat will be in the ring of gubernatorial aspirants.

What we want to know is, who's going to support his dog's drug habit in the interim? The next thing you know, we'll be hearing about a rash of break and entries in North Kingstown, with suspicious paw prints left on the safe, or how people are getting mugged in Wickford by a rabid-looking canine who's high on arthritis drugs. Then, it will be on to the Asta Memorial Suite at the Betty Ford Clinic, where Nick and Nora's dog once had to rehab after getting too fond of The Thin Man's martinis back in the 1930s and '40s. What a shame.

Inside moves: The state Supreme Court

While the presidential election drama has been swirling about, we have probably not been paying such close attention to some major governmental changes about to occur right here in the Biggest Little. Of course, P&J have been pounding down the pernod and grapefruit, fairly squealing at the shenanigans in Florida, so we haven't been of much help. But now it's time to get down to cases.

At the top of the list, with the pending retirement of Supreme Court Chief Justice Joseph Weisberger, is the selection of a new supreme. Since everything in Vo Dilun is inside politics, the word is that the contest is primarily between Frank Williams, that Superior Court judge, loyal Republican and Lincoln scholar, and Jeremiah Jeremiah (which is formal for Jackie Jackie), chief justice of the Family Court.

Of course, there's also that nagging little sidebar concerning House Speaker Pucky Harwood's arm-twisting of Judicial Nominating Commission member Sharon Burgess to stay long after her tenure has expired. But that sort of monkey business is par for the course here.

Court insiders tell us that Judge Jeremiah, who's been sucking up to Harwood on a regular basis, looks to be the speaker's boy. (Gee, what a record of service Jerry's compiled: from Gerber Baby DiPrete's boy to Pucky Harwood's boy!) And, it would appear that Frank Williams is Bigfoot's boy. Some in the legal community might actually be inclined to root for Jeremiah because it would get him off of the Family Court bench -- a vast improvement for that court. Numerous members of the bar intimate to your superior correspondents that Superior Court Judge Michael Silverstein, another justice who's in contention for the Supreme Court post, would be an excellent choice. But his only chance of actually being nominated would lie in a stalemate between the Jeremiah and Williams forces.

That stalemate is not likely to happen for a number of reasons, all having to do with naked political power. First of all, although the governor makes the initial selection, the nominee must pass muster with the legislature. Consider the fact that the Missing Linc is in lame duck mode until 2002. Now, consider the governor's lackadaisical lobbying when his candidate was Meg Curran, now US attorney, and tell us that El Bigfoot has the clout, tenacity or wiles to push Williams through. From where we sit at Casa Diablo, it's looking more and more like Jackie Jeremiah.

More inside moves: the state Supreme Court

With Jim Langevin moving to DC after his election to Congress, we'll soon have an open secretary of state's office. Once again, the gang at Halitosis Hall (read: Pucky) will be making the call on this one. And those who have been reading the daily BeloJo know the odds-on favorite for the slot is former state Representative Edward Inman. Despite all the lip service being paid to diversity and the opportunity to name a new secretary who's a woman or a member of a racial minority, it's all just lip service.

Representative Elizabeth Dennigan, who would really like the job, would be an excellent choice, as would Senator Charles Walton. Of course, P&J have always had a warm place in our heart for Ray Rickman, the former maverick rep from Providence Ray. Although Ray was quite helpful in elevating Pucky to the speaker's post during his battle with Russell Bramley Rickman may be too much the iconoclast to secure the job. He'd also be the best person for the job, considering his strengths and interests. Our guess is that the powers-that-be fear that Ray is too much the wack-a-doo loose cannon and free spirit because, let's face it, the guy never turned away from a fight. But it says here that the opportunity to do something progressive and interesting will be squandered in the interests of consolidation of power, and the insider, Inman, gets the nod.

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