Cash and carry

P&J are glad to see the Supremes avoided the abbatoir and failed to kill the General Assembly's cash cow -- its ability to have legislators serve on state boards and commissions.

While if logic prevailed this would be known as a conflict of interest, here in the Biggest Little, it's business as usual. Perhaps a clever idea when it was concocted 300 years ago, the current system has been turned into a vending machine for campaign contributions and politically-influenced decisions which benefit those in power. Particularly so those General Assembly leaders who make the key appointments to the various boards that legislators sit on, such as the Narragansett Bay Commission (Say hi, Vinnie "Family Man" Mesolella). While the Supremes did leave themselves an out by saying they'd wait for an actual "case in controversy" before setting their ruling in stone, the initial leanings look unpromising. Forgive John Harwood and Paul Kelly from dancing that jig Wednesday night, but they know just what this means. As the old punchline goes, "Whatever you do, don't sell that cow!"

The final hour

Well, as P&J go to press, we just can't wait to see what the Bankruptcy Boys at Quonset Point Developers will have the gall and audacity to propose to Governor Bigfoot for the development of QP. Naturally the megaport will be one of the options, but unless they want to lose their whole deposit on this deal, they had better come in with a smaller port proposal. That or take it in the teeth from the Environmental Protection Agency, and make arrangements to spend the next five years in court, getting expensively slapped around by Save the Bay and the Conservation Law Foundation.

P&J were pleased to see both the East Greenwich Town Council and the North Kingstown Republican Town Committee both officially come out against the megaport last week. If the Missing Linc makes the incredible blunder of going along with the Bankruptcy Boys' mega-scam, he stands a good chance of dragging down the already shaky GOP in Vo Dilun. Like Jamestown and Newport, which are also against the mega port, EG has some serious Republican bucks. By overtly going against the wishes of the townsfolk, not to mention the stakeholders group, we can imagine what kind of support any GOP candidates inheriting this debacle will get from the righteously indignant and monied folks downstate.

Ruin the Bay, ruin the party. Will Bigfoot really go two-for-two?

The buzzards are circling

If anything, Sunday's Other Paper story on the bumbling financial machinations of the Bud-I and his factotum Artie Coloian in setting up their trip to Florence, Italy, indicates that the buzzards are flying ever lower over City Hall. Even if we take these two at their word -- that initially grabbing $10,000 in public monies to finance the operation and then fumbling around for months as they determined how much should be charged to the mayor's campaign fund is all just a series of honest mistakes -- the question remains: Is this any way to run a city?

And anyone who doesn't think that former administration head ramrod Frank Corrente hasn't, for the past couple of months, been telling the federal authorities all they want to know, is obviously living in a dream world. Yes, indeed, this Plunder Dome investigation is starting to get more interesting. Even if there are "no stains" on the Bud-I's jacket, the microscope that it is now being put under will still undoubtedly yield a number of embarrassing splotches.

To da dump, to da dump, to da dump, dump, dump

A busy week at Casa Diablo, what with sending off piles of unwanted goods to Kosovo via Project Hope, in order to get a big charitable tax write-off. Hey, if it was good enough for the makers of Chapstick and Preparation H -- now there's a combo -- we figured it was just fine for your superior correspondents.

The first item in P&J's self-styled CARE package was a case of blackberry brandy, which we used to keep on hand for when former Senator Pell would drop in on a visit to Providence. Now that he's ensconced down in Newport most of the time, we figured it was expendable. However, this did conjure up great memories of Claiborne hammering back a pint straight from the bottle, and then tucking another one in his suit on the way out the door. No wonder his suits always looked rumpled -- by the end of the night he was crashed on the couch, fully clothed, with only the light of the TV showing CNN until dawn.

We were also able to unload a couple of cases of QT tanning lotion and Grecian Formula that was left over from our big "Siegfried and Roy Night" last winter. By the time the boys we invited over that night were done making themselves up, they looked like a person on TV would if the color control were turned up full-tilt and you had a chimpanzee working the "Hue" dial.

Finally, to put the refugees in a lighter mood after all they've been through, we decided that some novelty items would be just the thing to turn those frowns upside down. After all, who doesn't get a kick out of the old "arrow through the head" gag? And we betcha there will be a few surprised faces when someone sits on a whoopee cushion in their tent or startles a border guard by shaking hands while equipped with a joy buzzer. And you know there won't be a whole lot of people suspecting that the piece of gum they got isn't Juicyfruit, but hot pepper gum. What a panic that'll be, especially with no water available.

No thanks necessary, citizens. We just want to do our part to help out.

Green Mountain Method Acting

Shortly after 6 p.m. on Sunday, the phone rings at Casa Diablo and it's famous movie director Peter Farrelly making an inquiry about Jorge's health. "Well, I've got to get a pint of blood drained tomorrow," Jorge tells him.

"Can you do that later?" Pete replies. "I'd like you to come up here to Vermont for a role in the movie."

Me, Myself & Irene has been bivouacked up in Burlington for the past month and a half and, naturally, Jorge is more than accommodating to make his major motion picture debut. Of course, this was also quite instructive as to how the Farrellys cast their films (i.e., if you're a Vo Dilun pal of the brothers, there's a good chance that you might get in the movie). The only problem was that Jorge had to leave almost immediately to catch a flight from Logan to Burlington. This may not present a problem for most humans, but Jorge, who doesn't drive, was faced with having to identify himself to the people at US Air without the requisite photo ID. The aspiring screen star frantically searches for something that will convince the airport authorities, coming up with a baptismal certificate, grammar school graduation diploma and a magazine article with photographs identifying him as the real McCoy (or, in this case, McCrae). Thankfully, none of this is necessary, as all they require is a Social Security card.

When Jorge arrives in Burlington at 10:30, he picks up the call sheet for the next day, discovering that his screen time consists of an appearance with just Jim Carrey, Renée Zellweger and an animatronic beast of burden. Seeking to secretly expand his screen time, Jorge diligently went over his lines, while also realizing that it's unlikely he could steal a scene from Jim Carrey and an animated animal.

On Monday morning, Jorge awakens to the sound of raindrops and "Key 2nd A.D." An 8 a.m. telephone call informs him that the day's shoot has been canceled, so he loiters at the Burlington Sheraton, reading newspapers, watching C-Span and awaiting further instruction. At 2:30 p.m., Hal calls to tell Jorge to go to costume fitting. Arriving at movie headquarters, he tries on a few outfits judged "cute" by the costume fitting department. Our hero then bumps into Pete and Bobby Farrelly, who are shooting interiors nearby with Jim and Renée. Since Jorge is playing a farmer in the film, Bobby helpfully suggests that he prepare by "doing some farming."

Jorge gets to observe the directorial process for a couple of hours. The new shooting then schedule pushes his big scene back two weeks, so Jorge is soon back on a plane for home. In the meantime, our man is looking into the possibility of snaring a part-time farming job.

Kudos and congrats . . .

. . . to the folks from the RI Campaign to Eliminate Childhood Poverty, the George Wiley Center and the coalition of organizations who have banded together to try to force Bigfoot and his staff to take a serious look at the plight of needy Vo Dilunduhs. Maybe Bob Kerr of the BeloJo is right when he writes that a lot of the protest actions taken by these advocates are hopelessly "old school." But their grit and determination in embarrassing the governor into facing the situation has yielded a meeting, set for Tuesday, July 13. And it was the threat of educational leafletting at the new welfare office opening ceremony, at the site of the former Jake Kaplan's auto dealership, that obviously did the trick. Sometimes embarrassment works and, with this governor, it might be one of the only things that works.

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