The heat is on
BY PHILLIPE & JORGE
Well, now the cards are dealt, and we have "Enron Don" Carcieri, the corporate
buccaneer who's carrying the GOP banner for governor, and P&J's fave, Myrth
"Peppermint Patty" York, going for the governor's post in the Biggest Little.
Things are looking up politically. We can finally wake up the Missing Linc,
Governor Bigfoot, so he can ride off into retirement in Wellfleet, and House
Speaker Johnny Hardwood will hopefully be sent packing for sexual harassment
(but remember, he's innocent until proven guilty as sin). The upbeat outlook is
provided, of course, that the anti-abortion Enron Don -- who, like too many Mr.
White Men in suits, believes he knows best in dictating what a woman should do
with her body -- goes down to defeat in November.
Post-mortems on the Democratic mayoral primary in Providence should note that
the biggest loser of all had to be Iggy. We mean Iggy Senior, a.k.a Vincent
Igliozzi, longtime Silver Lake ward boss and third-rate Joseph P. Kennedy
manqué. His candidate, "The Other David" Igliozzi, lost, but it was the
old man's thirst for power that really told the story. The Other David spent
too much of his father-in-law, former Dream (now Nightmare) Dealer, Tom
Ricci's money. Garnering less than 3000 votes in a campaign that cost more than
$300,000, Iggy Junior spent about $100 a vote. He could have doubled his count
by simply spreading around $50-a-vote in street money.
But Iggy Junior expended even more in political capital in his scorched earth
campaign. Attacking Paolino and soon-to-be-Mayor-elect Cicilline was boneheaded
and ham-fisted. Did anyone see the awful photos of Joe and David that the Iggy
camp was sending out in their mailings? This was almost a caricature of
Negative Campaigning 101, a perfect example of trying to use ward tactics in a
citywide mayoral contest. How Iggy and his dozens of family members on city and
state payrolls bounce back from this, we'll never know. Iggy's not a wealthy
man. He'll probably have to refinance the house in East Greenwich (whoops, are
we telling Providence voters something they should have known all along?)
Congrats once again to David Cicilline for his truly stunning victory (a
mandate for change if there ever was one) and Joe Paolino, whose totally
improvised concession speech on September 10 was one of the most gracious and
heartfelt ever heard at Casa Diablo. The next day, he told your superior
correspondents he doesn't remember it at all. Also, a tip of the sombrero to
Keven McKenna, the one-man Ocean State Follies, who kept the laughs rolling.
And might the corner be turning on Separation of Powers? The newly formed
RISOP (Rhode Island Separation of Powers Committee) sent out a press release a
couple of days after the primary, trumpeting the progress of SOP supporters in
House primary races. What with the Senate already firmly in support, it may
only be a matter of time.
Prairie Ave. home companions
With Head Ramrod Beverly Scott moving on and marketing director Lee Beliveau
leaving to pursue other career opportunities, there's a leadership vacuum at
the Rhode Island Public Transit Authority (better know as "da buses"). As a
result, your superior correspondents aren't sure who to address this to. But we
have a strong marketing suggestion that could get more Vo Dilunduhs riding the
buses. Here goes:
A couple of days ago, Jorge was on the Number 11 Broad Street bus, headed
downtown. One of RIPTA's busier lines, the 11 has a rather distinctive culture.
A number of regulars on this route have developed into monologuists of note. On
the particular morning in question, two such urban guerrilla entertainers held
sway at different times during the ride. These were bravura performances.
First, a gentleman attired in baseball cap, vintage woolen sporting jacket
bearing the legend "Big Dogs," and carrying a number of large black trash
liners full of mystery detritus, hopped on board and immediately launched into
an improvised soliloquy on the shady goings-on in his public housing unit.
"Yeah, they was all smokin' crack up there . . . I call it a crack house . . .
You know that guy got pushed out the window at Dexter Manor the other night? .
. . Well, they pushed three more out there last week. I'm tellin' the truth
here! If I was a thief and a liar, I'd be in jail, wouldn't I?" (Or at
least have your own radio talk-show.)
After our first star debussed near the Classical High School fields, our
second monologuist, a woman appearing to be in her late 30s or early 40s, lost
no time in picking up the tempo. Noting a very tall young man who had climbed
aboard the bus only moments earlier, she shouted at him, "Hey, how tall are
you?"
The young man (who looked to be the size, build, and age of a college
basketball player) spurned the invitation to join the show, leading our newest
emerging star to speculate, "Oh you must be 6'4" or 6'5" (he actually looked
more like 6'7"). "What! You're not going to tell me? My son, he's 6'1," only 13
years old, but I still get up on him. I'm his mother. When you're the mother,
it don't matter how tall you are, I still get up on him. I'd get up on you too,
because I'm still the mother."
After Jorge witnessed these masterful real-life monologues, it seemed that
some of the so-called "spoken word" performances he's heard on National Public
Radio can't hold a candle to this homegrown talent. Eat your heart out, David
Sedaris! All you folks riding into Providence, sans passengers, in your Saabs
and Volvos, fuhgeddaboutit! Here's your culture, here's your Prairie Avenue
Home Companions. Get on the bus and experience the real State of the Arts.
Ask us Anything, revisited
It's time to remind you once again of the Cool, Cool
World's exciting new feature (well, after 23 years, we consider anything less
than a decade old to be "new"), "Ask Us Anything." Perhaps some of the
inquiring minds out there stopped sending in their questions and were put off
because your superior correspondents were, shall we say, completely unable to
answer any of the questions.
Well. Let's not nitpick here. We're trying and that's what's important!
(Didn't anyone ever tell you that? Did you buy it then? We thought so.)
So, remember, e-mail us your questions at p&j[a]phx.com, because you can
always Ask Us Anything!
Our newest corporate hero
P&J's newest corporate hero has got to be the MBNA Corporation of Delaware,
the world's largest independent credit card agency. Not only was it the largest
corporate contributor to President Bush in 2000, but MBNA is among the
principal beneficiaries of the fabulous bankruptcy bill wending its way through
Congress.
As with most financial legislation, the bankruptcy bill is one of those
initiatives designed to stack the law in favor of big credit card companies and
against average citizens. The intent of the law is to toughen the rules for
personal bankruptcy for the average citizens (in other words, just those people
who have not been abusing the law in great numbers). The wealthy (who, of
course, have been abusing it) are given a couple of lovely little loopholes, so
the new rules won't bother them.
Average citizens will be forced into five-year repayment plans to settle their
credit card debts, and the card companies will be able to institute "means
testing" to make it more difficult for people to get fresh start status. (Gee,
how might this new harshness affect things like child support payments? Call us
crazy, but P&J are willing to bet that women and children will be among the
biggest victims of this legislation.)
Outside of MBNA's very expensive five-year lobbying effort (read: greasing of
congressional palms) to get this bill passed, it made another really heroic
move. In a column last week, the ever-cool Molly Ivins, noted that MBNA gave a
nearly half-million dollar loan to US Representative James Moran (D-Virginia),
on what the New York Times once called "highly favorable terms." Just
one month later, he signed on as the leading Democratic sponsor of the
legislation (well, you knew it was a Republican idea). Hey, what a coincidence!
So, good on you MBNA Corporation of Delaware -- a company that really knows how
to make cowinky-dinks happen.
Kudos and congrats . . .
. . . to the Urinal for the thin-as-gruel profile of Sopranos writer and
executive producer Robin Green, a Providence native, in the paper's Deadbeat
section on September 14. Actually, Robin's brother is married to the sister of
the wonderful Rita Michaelson, wife of the equally well-respected former Rhode
Island AG Julius Michaelson. Rita used to regale P&J with stories of how
Robin would subtly wind in ties to Our Little Towne when she began writing for
the late, great TV series, Northern Exposure. These included making the
protagonist, Joel, a Brown University graduate, and naming a dog in the series
after the Michaelson's own pooch. In addition, Ms. Green's brother is a
psychiatrist in New Hampshire, and provides much background to inform Robin's
writing about Tony Soprano's shrink, Dr. Jennifer Melfi, played by Lorraine
Bracco. Not that the BeloJo might not have the whole story.
. . . to Joel Rawson, BeloJo executive editor, for turning his paper into the
New York Times Redux. Perhaps this is because
the paper is cutting
back on the quantity and quality of the reporting staff. It's becoming rather
too noticeable at times that increasingly little news coverage is generated
in-house. On Monday, September 16, the front page contained four stories lifted
from the Times, including an outdated and insipid days-old piece on
fantasy football by Richard Sandomir. This was deemed worthy of placement above
the fold, and it was linked to a non-related story on the Patriots win over the
Jets. This was preceded by another Times piece on Robert Coover's
virtual literature experiment at Brown University, a Times scoop that
embarrassingly ran a week later in our own hometown organ of record. They make
it fresh every day? Not bloody likely.
R.I.P.
Johnny Unitas, a real football player and master of anti-style. The guy who
gave credibility to crew cuts and high tops.
And to Harry Kizirian, the real deal, an American hero.
Send bigmouth bass and Pulitzer-grade tips to p&j[a]phx.com.
Issue Date: September 20 - 26, 2002
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