Linc Almond,
not Chuck Berry
Maybe we are finding ourselves more and more distracted these days. Or maybe we have fallen prey to certain channel-surfing behavior patterns that render us
incapable of fixating on any television image (let alone comprehending it) for
more than 20 seconds before clicking the remote panel. Or maybe our minds begin
to wander when, starting at 5 p.m., we sit down to 90 minutes of local news
that is comprised of a seamless weave of fluff, gossip, and relentless station
promos. Regardless, it's so hard to concentrate these days.
On Monday, this seemed to be true for many of our fellow local news consumers
as well. At the time, all the stations were airing a report on a gubernatorial
bill signing-cum-dog-and-pony show concerning legislation that requires
children age 5 and younger to not only wear seat belts, but to ride in the back
seats of all motor vehicles.
After the soundbite, the governor provided a visual to go with the reports.
Recruiting his young granddaughter, Amy, for the demonstration, he buckled her
up in the back seat of the Guv-mobile.
Only problem was that in the video, shown on channels 10 and 12, the
Lincmeister took some time to accomplish this. And for those who had just tuned
in or who had been drowsily fluctuating between sleep and consciousness, it may
not have been immediately obvious what exactly the governor was doing with this
young child. This was the case with Channel 10 viewers anyway.
The station featured the story about the new child safety laws for their
"call-in" segment of the newscast, during which viewers are encouraged to call
in to "voice their opinion" on a selected news topic. Apparently, a number of
calls came in from concerned citizens wanting to know what was happening to
that little girl. Could it be that, like Phillipe & Jorge, large segments
of the Channel 10 audience had flashed back to the seat-belt verse of Chuck
Berry's "No Particular Place to Go"? If so, shame on them.
Rest assured, folks, that Amy is fine, and the governor's seat-belt-buckling
skills are bound to improve. On the other hand, if this is what's running
through our minds, maybe we've all been watching too much TV.
Our mothers would call it lying
Phillipe and Jorge must admit we were shocked -- shocked, we say -- to learn
that the Providence Place mall developers' guestimates on the shopping
megaplex's opening date were off by a year.
Now normally that observation would've been delivered tongue-in-cheek, but
having once worked on an aspect of the mall ourselves, P&J know from an
insider's perspective that everyone (at least the people we dealt with) was
above-board and honest about the project -- no matter how horrendous the
histories of Dan Lugosch, Bob Congel, and the Pyramid Corporation (the original
team of perspective developers) were.
The fact that our good friend Michael Doyle and the current team of developers have begun
twisting the truth is very disappointing -- and, if you'd like our opinion,
very unbecoming to Doyle's extremely well-respected PR firm.
Politicians and their ilk may shrug their shoulders and chalk this up to
evasiveness. Our mothers, however, might not be so easily fooled. Evasiveness
on such a grand level would probably result in our getting our mouths washed
out with soap for lying. Indeed, if the developers, investors, and PR folks
gave the people their due for understanding that an effort like this takes time
and money, perhaps less people would feel railroaded by big-money white boys.
As for the Missing Linc, we were astonished and appalled when he said that
although he knew the mall couldn't make the deadline, he didn't say anything
because no one asked. Excuse us, but what a crock, Governor. You are supposed
to be the state's leader, so don't play the reticent wallflower on issues that
involve the biggest investment project in Rhode Island.
Should we assume as well that unless you're asked about intentional cost
overruns and a bankrupt DOT, you won't say anything publicly? Your comments
make us believe that either you're being "evasive" in the extreme, Mr. Almond,
or there's truth to your critics' charge that you are asleep behind the wheel.
Maybe we should consult our moms as to the correct answer.
The Family Dependence Act
Isn't it amazing how skilled government officials have become at the great
(and, at this point, only) American art form -- marketing? We particularly like
the names they come up with for various policy initiative packages.
The Contract with America, for instance, was just fabulous for giving people
the impression that something legal or binding or fair was going on. Even more
entertaining was the Defense of Marriage Act, the federal legislation created
to deny legal status to lesbian or gay marriages. Despite the fact that it had
absolutely nothing to do with "defending marriage," it sure sounded a whole lot
more palatable than an actually honest and accurate label would have, such as
the "Let's Continue to Restrict the Human Rights of Queers Act."
Back on May 1, the Family Independence Act went into effect in Vo Dilun.
Basically, your family becomes independent by being booted off AFDC. Actually,
this wouldn't be as absurd as some of the other (generally) Republican programs
if an actual effort were made to find decent-paying work for these folks. When
all this welfare reform was initially discussed, after all, a lot of lip
service was given to "welfare-to-work" schemes. But Phillipe and Jorge are
still looking for the follow-through or, if there has been some follow-through,
evidence of it.
Henry Shelton at the George Wiley Center has asked Governor Bigfoot to release
data on how many AFDC people were hired by state agencies since May 1. From a
Wiley Center press release: "Governor Almond can't very well ask the private
sector to offer their fair share of the jobs to help persons on welfare obtain
family-wage jobs unless he leads by example and hires persons on AFDC in each
of the departments of state government."
What do you mean he can't, Henry? Not only has there been no effort to create
jobs for AFDC people, but all we hear nowadays is a lot of whining about having
to pay folks who were formerly on assistance the minimum wage. Hey, we're not
talking about "a living wage" here, but the minimum wage.
It's interesting that even though "the economy is booming," we must make
exceptions to paying people such a pittance. Gee, maybe all those stockholders
and CEOs who are raking in millions will have to settle for a few million less
if they're forced to offer real full-time jobs with real benefits.
So what has the state of Rhode Island done to make the Family Independence Act
work? Will we get an answer from the governor, or will he treat this request
the way we suspect he treats the Family Independence Act -- just ignore it and
eventually the alleged "welfare-to-work" crowd will disappear into the streets,
into the shelters and soup kitchens, onto the highway entrance ramps with their
cardboard signs. And then we will proclaim that we have reformed welfare.
Host with the most . . . problems
President Billary obviously failed to read the local papers in Vo Dilun before
dropping in on developer Gerald Zarrella during the presidential visit to Block
Island.
In an op-ed piece in the Urinal on August 4, historian and Block Island
Times contributor Robert Downie publicly read Zarrella's beads, revealing
the charming gent's history of (count 'em) allegedly beating his wife and suing
his best friend for "alienation of affection" after the man allegedly had an
affair with her, appearing on the Donahue show to air all this dirty
laundry, building on problematic lots, and enjoying a list of friends such as
disgraced former West Warwick mayor Michael Levesque.
P&J are now pleased to see that an obviously out-of-sorts Zarrella has
filed an ethics complaint against John Speir, Block Island's zoning board
chairman and a local builder. Speir's lawyers say the complaint is not only
frivolous but factually incorrect. Jeez, sounds like Zarrella's consolation
prize for offering Clinton his home was the free use of one of Clinton's
attorneys.
Speaking of Billary's overplayed visit to the Biggest Little, he not only
disrupted Block Island. In the days prior to his visit, the Prez had local
officials in Jamestown jumping through hoops as well to accommodate what turned
out to be a whimsical notion of getting in nine holes at the Jamestown Golf
Course. Well, at least the Secret Service advance boys got to play a few holes
while scoping out the course the Thursday before Billary's visit to the Block
-- until their cellular phones rang and they discovered the visit was off.
Fore(-geddaboutdit)!