Channel 6 goes for the gold

You've got to hand it to the folks at Channel 6. First, they are really making an effort with their redesigned set and a couple of redesigned anchors, Ron Harbaugh and Amy DeLuca. Ms. DeLuca's husband is a Vo Dilun native, so she's had a taste of the Biggest Little on visits with the in-laws. With no call to join the cast of the ABC's View forthcoming, Amy wisely chose to relocate to an area where the Italian restaurants are plentiful and where driving for more than 10 minutes to get anywhere is perceived as a serious imposition.

As for Mr. Harbaugh, Phillipe and Jorge have a theory: Harbaugh is not an actual person but the result of some futuristic computer techniques. You see, what the canny Channel 6 news department did was get an eight-by-10 of Channel 12's Walter Cryan and morph it down to look 10 years younger. The result is a sort of "Max Headroom you can trust."

Trying desperately to hold on to the giant audience that tuned in for ABC's 20/20 interview with Wawa and Monica last week, good old #3 then came up with a brilliant "You Stayed for It" strategy. The long-suffering Truman Taylor went over to the Westin to referee a one-liner competition between the Bud-I, Bruce "Captain Blowhard" Sundlun, Vinnie Paz and Arlene "Attila the Nun" Violet. All in all, this had to be the mother of all pundit panels, making the McLaughlin Group look like a meeting of the Golden Agers' Garden Club. Indeed, it can be reasonably surmised that Cianci, Sundlun, and Pazienza all have a working knowledge of the subject matter at hand, having all known "The Call of the Johnson" in their lifetime. Ahh-lene, on the other hand, was obviously brought in to provide a bit of hormonal balance to the rest of the testosterone cases on the panel. And what did we learn from this august summit? Only that TV news can be lots of fun as long as they don't try to palm this sort of circus off as "analysis."

Fear and loathing on the radio

P&J enjoyed the chance to visit with CNN and Nightline political commentator Jeff Greenfield when he visited the Biggest Little two weeks ago to speak at Save the Bay's annual meeting. Ted Turner is evidently the party responsible for the appearance, having heavily hinted to Greenfield that it would be a good idea to show up if he had the time, even if, as Greenfield remarked, he felt like Admiral Stockdale asking, "What am I doing here?"

Still, Greenfield fired off some of the same witty insights he trots out on Imus in the Morning on a regular basis, and revealed what fuels his performances on the popular morning TV and radio extravaganza: "I do the Imus show out of fear," he responded, when asked about the news media by former lieutenant governor "Little Ritchit" Licht. He then threw a wilted bouquet to the I-man with the comment, "He's actually a great guy. Every Sunday he goes to the hospital and reads to the deaf."

Finally, the truth

One of the reasons why P&J know that the proposed megaport at Quonset Point was a hummer from the git-go is how often we have been in step with the Other Paper's editorial-page viewpoint and those of our old buddy, uber-yuppie Peter Phipps, the BeloJo's business editor. (And thanks to the BeloJo for printing monster-raving loony Brian Bishop's op-ed in favor of the megaport last week. All the developers need now is for Ed DiPrete, Joe Mollicone and Craig Price to endorse it.)

And nothing was more in sync between your superior correspondents and the fourth floor at Fountain Street than the paper's weekend editorial calling for both sides to just examine "the facts." Unfortunately, these facts have been in short supply from the state Economic Development Corporation, Quonset Point Partners and GoPort, which generate more b.s. than a rodeo.

Last week in particular, this high b.s. factor hit home when the rather large other shoe was dropped by QPP. They finally admitted -- as P&J have been informing you for months -- that the developers cannot make money on anything less than a megaport at Quonset. What's more, this came just days before the stakeholders group was set to make their recommendation to Governor Bigfoot about which port alternative is most feasible and least environmentally harmful. So, QPP's revelation that the only way they will privately finance the port is if we sell off the future of Narragansett Bay (which, boys and girls, belongs to the people of Rhode Island, and not carpetbaggers looking for a buck) means they have known all along that the stakeholders process is nothing more than a cheap charade to keep the public mollified. This also means that the Missing Linc either has been played for a fool or has been lying to the public by saying that he will respect the stakeholders' recommendation.

We'll leave that to the inquiring minds of our readers to decide. But this last revelation borders on shamelessness and is a slap in the face of any Vo Dilunduh who believes that politicians are telling the truth when it comes to making a buck. You don't need to look as far as Washington to realize why the youths of today want nothing to do with the extended pig trough that is the gathering spot for politicos. Trust us, right?

P.S.: The Urinal's erstwhile TV reporter, John Martin, has left the paper to become the EDC's communications director, stepping in for our old pal, Mary Kay Talbot, who left the position last summer. Nice timing, John. One of his responsibilities will be to advise EDC director John "What Clean Water Act?" Swen on public relations. Why do the images of Annie Sullivan and Helen Keller as the inspiration for The Miracle Worker immediately pop into P&J's heads?

RIP

The Grim Reaper has been busy lately. So long to Stanley Kubrick, the perfectionist filmmaker who provided us with a slew of unforgettable images, from Malcolm McDowell and the Droogs stomping to Ludwig Van to thousands of toga-clad extras bellowing "I'm Spartacus" to Slim Pickens riding the phallic missile into oblivion.

We were glad to see that the Phoenix's Jim Macnie was able to get in some fitting words about Dusty Springfield in last week's paper. One of the greatest of white soul singers and an icon of superior behavior, Dusty does the trick with her "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself," "The Look of Love," and "All Cried Out" when you're in that pensive, mellow mood. Hang in there, George Jones. We couldn't take the loss of another great voice.

And what can we say about Joe DiMaggio, the epitome of style and grace, baseball's Fred Astaire? We just can't afford to lose one of the great reminders of an elegance long past.

The Gerber diaries, cont.

More missives from prisoner #110156.

Can you believe that idiot, Sheldon Whitehouse, actually thinks that he'll get information out of me on where all the money went?! Like it's some sort of mystery. All he has to do is check with the Pequots on that one. Let me tell you, having half a million simoleons turned into quarters is no easy task.

I'm still waiting for the green light on my teaching/ mentoring job, so all I can do now is sit around here and watch TV. Seeing the reports on Joe DiMaggio's death reminds me of my bonehead son Dennis back in the sixth grade. Can you imagine him lifting the DiMaggio rookie baseball card out of my prized collection and trading it to one of his pals for two Joe Pepitones and a Rickey Henderson? Not all ballplayers (or state building contractors, for that matter) are created equal. I had to teach him that.

I have to admit that I got a good laugh out of the story in that stupid newspaper about the heating system at the ACI breaking down. The way the whole thing worked was beautiful. We'd get the low bid on a public-works project then pass it along to one of my campaign contributors, who'd undercut that. Then, after massive overruns on the project, the company would come back to the PBA and get the okay for the added costs. And here's the beauty part: knowing that they'd done shoddy work, we'd rewrite the contract to end their liability after a year or two. All they had to do was make sure the HVAC system didn't break down immediately and they'd be in the clear.

Geez, I just checked my fake Rolex and realized it's time for our "political prisoners" meeting. It's a new concept - getting all the political prisoners together for a coordinated effort. Craig Price was elected head of the group, but I'm not sure that it's going to work, as he and Jeff Hornoff are pretty much at loggerheads about who killed whom. Can't everyone just get along?

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