Bud-I in the spotlight

The man who claims he has "no stains on this jacket" (a line reiterated ad nauseam by JARhead Dan Jaehnig during Channel 10's Monday evening coverage -- a point of pride for Dan-o because, as he kept reminding viewers, it was his inane question that set up the mayor's punch line) is about to meet the federal forensic dry cleaners. The late afternoon timing of the indictments was so perfect for local TV coverage it's fortunate that we got only a head and shoulders shot of Jim Taricani, so juiced by the scene that one could almost visualize the woodie in his slacks.

In fact, the television reporters were very "in the loop" on this one. The Bud-I himself indicated it was a phone call from Channel 12's Jack White that alerted him to the imminent news. And as Richard Egbert, the Bud-I's RICO-wise Boston attorney, further noted at the hastily arranged City Hall news conference, it was the reports of camera crews descending on Kennedy Plaza that convinced him to take a trip down to Renaissance City to check it out for himself.

White, during some back-and-forth with Channel 12 anchors Karen Adams and Jim King, made one point that may have escaped some folks' attention, although it was something your superior correspondents believe will resonate in the weeks to come. Jack mentioned that when Plunder Dome charges were first brought against Rosemary Glancy, the mayor insisted she step down from her job. That begs the question, "Why not Buddy?" -- something that might gain momentum as time goes on and the pressure builds.

Meanwhile, back on Channel 10, we were feeling a good deal of sympathy for Taricani. Only months after his longtime I-Team associate, Dyana Koelsch, left the building, breaking up the "Nichols and May" of local television news, he's suddenly teamed with Jaehnig -- Abbott to the Bud-I's Costello, and now Jerry to Taricani's Dean.

The BeloJo performance in Tuesday's edition was, all in all, quite grave. As one Phoenix wag noted, the "evil Bud-I" coverage could have been mailed in from the great beyond by Michael Metcalf. The photo editors, undoubtedly under Joel Rawson's instruction, found an appropriately "Quasimodian" photo for the front page (wonder if the late Charles Laughton will try and sue for copyright infringement?) and M. Charles Bakst's column was such a model of propaganda, it nearly out-P&J-ed P&J. Lines like "he is entitled to every bit as much assumption of innocence as is the lowest accused street hoodlum" (who, of course, is presumed by most to be guilty) and "building upon Cianci's glitzy renewal successes" (let's see, is "glitzy" a good "Renaissance" adjective?) were beautifully crafted.

Of course, M. Charles was merely taking a page from the mayor's own playbook. At Monday night's Bud-I bash, Hizzoner defiantly claimed that the allegations were, "based on self-serving statements of criminals seeking to save their own skins." He then launched into one of his traditional self-serving descriptions of the glories of the Shining City on the Seven Hills (the subconscious message of which is always "Providence is Buddy/Buddy is Providence"). We can only hope that the shining we see in the distance is not a giant bonfire.

All roads point to Rome

Kudos and congrats to our old pal Mike Ryan and the powers that be at Narragansett Electric for their stupefyingly wonderful donation to the state of Rome Point. Never has the Biggest Little been given such an incredible gift of a natural resource. And we really liked the revelation by the Other Paper's Bob Wyss that Rome Point includes an area that was used as a dance ground and for yearly inter-tribal festivities, known in the Narragansett language as "Homogansett" -- Casa Diablo South! Those who remember years ago, when there was an attempt to site a nuclear power plant at Rome Point, which was beaten back by a grassroots revolution (showing the environmentally conscious heart and soul of Vo Dilunduhs), will be permitted to shed a tear of joy. Mikey, we kept the TV and all the lights at Casa Diablo on all night in honor of this sweet present.

Another phantom story

One of the great "Vo Dilun politics as usual" stories of the past few weeks was all but invisible to most folks, unless, of course, you read the Pawtucket Times. Reporter Milton Valencia filed consecutive front-pagers on March 21, 22, and 23, chronicling the tale of one Joseph L. Faria of Central Falls. Lucky Joe has somehow been able to continue to register a couple of cars since 1993 without paying the annual excise tax on them. In fact, until Valencia's stories ran, Lucky Joe was about $6000 in arrears.

You may be thinking "How do he do dat?" Based on Valencia's excellent reportage, P&J speculate that it might have something to do with Lucky Joe's election to the state House of Representatives -- coincidentally in the same year that he last paid his automobile taxes. The representative from District 72 told the Times he never received anything from Central Falls City Hall indicating that he had to pay taxes to register his automobiles. Not exactly an arcane law we're talking about here, Lucky Joe.

Nonetheless, Joe acknowledged being aware that he owed the taxes for the past nine years. Asked how this was possible, Charles Dolan, administrator of the state Registry of Motor Vehicles, said it shouldn't be, and "[that] there appears to be an impropriety." As we used to say back in the fifth grade, "No shit, Sherlock." If there's a criminal impropriety, Dolan says, the details "will be forwarded to the state police." A computer error is also a possibility, but Dolan wondered how the problem persisted since 1993.

One possible answer to this deep mystery is included in Valencia's story: "Central Falls is one of a few communities in the state that has workers retrieve information from the registry and review it at City Hall. City Hall workers review registration renewals and if a person owes taxes, his or her renewal is withheld. In that case, the registry does not know if someone owes taxes unless the city sends notification."

But could the chairman of the House Labor Committee -- an automaton in good standing of the Harwood leadership group -- somehow be able to influence city workers to "lose" his tax records? Nawww. That would be illegal. It says here that the end result will be . . . nothing. Just like what happened when Milton Valencia dug up this story, and the BeloJo and local TV stations totally ignored it.

Stars are made of gas

As P&J relaxed at Casa Diablo taking in Sunday's New York Knicks-L.A. Lakers game (looove the cornrows, Latrell), the game was enhanced by an intriguing little sidebar.

At the start of the third quarter, the cameras picked up a shot of Bill Clinton, Warren Beatty, and Steven Spielberg (the game was at the Staples Center), talking in the recesses of one of the tunnels leading back to the concessions (near the luxury boxes, we're sure). This was a nice little bit of visual eavesdropping at first, but while this great game was going on (the lead changing hands every three seconds), Billary kept bloviating until Spielberg walked back to watch the game, and the cameras deigned to show us the action on the court, rather than focus on two clapped-out, egotistical old white men chatting.

But as the NBC cameras continued to returned to this celeb conversation, Monica's Man continued talking Beatty's ear off for the entire third quarter! Neither of them saw even one minute of it, and Beatty looked about as interested in what Billary had to say as he would have been in talking with a street person. Not that we didn't know it already . . . but Clinton is so self-absorbed, he probably thought the 15,000 people in the place came there just to see him! Then again, perhaps he was asking Spielberg and Beatty where he might find some space in Watts for his new West Coast office. How can we miss you if you won't go away?

Clear thinking

A wonderful, but heart-wrenching article on the Sudan's Lost Boys of Africa in the New York Times Magazine of April 1. The Lost Boys (yes, based on Peter Pan) are tens of thousands of young men who have been orphaned by the brutal civil war in their country, traveling from country to country seeking refuge, while being picked off one-by-one by hunger, wild animals, rebel bands, and army press gangs. A select group is now being sent to settle in the US in such sub-Saharan locales as Fargo, North Dakota, and they face enormous difficulties. But in their often terrifying first look at America, they give a wonderfully clear-eyed view of our society.

Sara Corbett, the author of the story, recalled this amazing exchange in a Fargo supermarket with Peter Dut, one of Lost Boys, right after he arrived here in North Dakota, direct from a Kenya refugee camp:

" `Excuse me, Sara, but can you tell me what this is?' Behind him, pet food was stacked practically floor to ceiling. `Um, that's food for our dogs,' I answered, cringing at what that must sound like to a man who had spent the last eight years eating porridge. `Ah, I see,' Peter said, replacing the can on the shelf and appearing satisfied. He pushed his grocery cart a few more steps and then turned to face me, looking quizzical. `Tell me,' he said, `What is the work of dogs in this country?' "

A poignant question. P&J's answer: Working for the Bush administration. "Roll over, Christie! Good girl!"

Question of the week

Does Dimwit Dubya consider the Taliban a "faith-based organization"? Just asking.

Send kudos, congratulations and Pultizer-worthy tips to p&j[a]phx.com.

---

The P & J archives

---