Zoning and boning in Woonsocket

Who would have thought that the burnt-out, busted-up mill town of Woonsocket would become the latest destination for swinging sex parties? It was revealed last week that something called "The Black Key Club," a private swingers group, was operating out of a house zoned for residential use only on Park Avenue. House mama Leslie Moore-Linfield, a member of the Killingly, Connecticut, school board until her recent resignation "for personal reasons," was apparently running the joint under the guise of a "bed and breakfast." Apparently there was a lot more bed than breakfast going on here.

Some Woonsocketites were alerted to the existence of the swingers club by the number of out-of-state cars in a nearby parking lot and the strange appearance of green and blue lights emanating from the house during the wee hours. It seems that the "dyna-mites" being served up at the Black Key were a different type of Sloppy Joe than what the locals are used to.

Thanks for nothing

sponsored by the R.I. Coalition for Affirmative Action, on December 4. This will come as news to you unless you read the Phoenix or watched WJAR on the 4th and 5th, because coverage in the Urinal was nowhere to be found.

It's hardly a rarity that the BeloJo fails to report a good story. But what makes this omission particularly strange is that a number of folks in the minority community had a meeting a few weeks back with Joel Rawson, the Other Paper's executive editor, to discuss the Urinal's publication of the name and address of a young woman who was allegedly pursued through Connecticut by an intoxicated off-duty sheriff who, in a fit of what may have been racially tinged road rage, tried to shoot her before being apprehended. The young woman was returning from seeing her mother, Onna Moniz-John, who happens to work in East Providence's affirmative action office. The media tracked the victim down the following day at the school where she teaches and at her home, leading her to fear that the redneck buddies of the shitfaced sheriff might be able to do likewise.

Those at the meeting, including Ms. Moniz-John and members of local human rights groups, were less than impressed with Rawson's answers about why the privacy of the alleged victim in this case was not protected (think the address would have been published had it been a white lawyer's wife from Barrington?) One would think that after the experience of the BeloJo's own black and Middle Eastern scribes being harassed, respectively, at the governor's inauguration and a memorial for victims of the EgyptAir crash, the editors might already be a bit more cognizant of the world outside the walls of Fountain Street. But Rawson at least offered to have reporter Elliott Krieger serve as a liaison to the minority and gay community in instances when coverage of race issues and/or hate crimes attract criticism.

Elliott , a very good guy and solid reporter, appears to be an excellent choice for this role. Still, no one showed up at the Stop the Hate affair, despite the press releases that were sent to the BeloJo prior to the event. More than two dozen speakers, including minority leaders, civic champions like Naomi Craig, past and present state legislators, college students and Ms. Moniz-John herself, were on hand to tell their stories to a crowd of more than 100. Leaders of the conference were definitely not amused by the fact that the Urinal blew its first chance for redemption, although we wouldn't suggest another meeting with Rawson unless they are short on pablum. Elliott, where are you?

Give us the good stuff

Needless to say, P&J wouldn't watch a debate of Republican presidential candidates with a .44 Magnum pointed at our heads. However, we do have some masochistic friends who suit up for the occasion in their full-body-with-hood black latex suits. Then, they have their wrists and ankles manacled together, and a gag ball secured in their mouths, before being plopped down on a hardwood floor in front of the TV to endure the torture. When it comes to truly kinky thrills, few things compare with watching a gollum like Gary Bauer, or a wraith such as Orrin Hatch, pursue their delusions at the expense of the American public and the last vestiges of their own dignity.

While this televised exercise in polishing manure is excruciatingly tedious, we at least expect to get reasonable highlights from those ink-stained wretches who are paid to cover the drama. Unfortunately, from what we gleaned in the pages of our favorite organs, many of the high points were never reported among the cascade of BS provided by the candidates. Thankfully, we had the good fortune to hear some of the nuggets from our well-trussed friends. One major omission in the mainstream reportage was that of talk radio jockey Alan Keyes referring to George Dubya as "Massa Bush" while criticizing the front-runner's economic programs. The other winner was US Senator John McCain preaching his allegiance to Federal Reserve board, saying that even if Big Alan Greenspan died in office, they ought to prop him up in his chair and pretend he was still alive, a la Weekend at Bernie's. C'mon, you fourth estate flunkies -- leave the jawing over Social Security for the final paragraphs, and give us the yuks that enquiring minds want to know about up-front.

Adios, Dennis Pratt

The flags at Casa Diablo went to half mast last week upon the death of Dennis Pratt, a.k.a. Quentin Crisp, author of The Naked Civil Servant, his autobiography. A queen to rival any of Britain's other famed female monarchs, Crisp would have been 91 on Christmas Day. He referred to himself as a "stately homo of England," but ended up making New York's Lower East Side his home because, as he once recalled, he constantly got beat up for his flamboyant garb in London. But when he emerged dressed and coiffed to the nines when he first came to New York, a passing motorist yelled out the window, "My, you've got it all on today, don't you?"

P&J also loved one of Crisp's credos: "Never try to keep up with the Joneses. Drag them down to your level. It's cheaper that way." You'll look divine in a white robe and angel wings, Quentin.

Bali "Hi"

As old Southeast Asian hands, P&J recommend that you spend a little of your Christmas shopping time at the Edgewood residence of famed local storyteller Len Cabral this Saturday or Sunday, December 4 and 5. Lenny will be featuring a load of Indonesian treasures and crafts provided by his old pal and former Leo's regular Jackson Wheeler, who made the rather innovative move years ago from South Providence to Bali. We're sure that if your friends like hand-carved demon heads and flying dragons as much as your superior correspondents, you should show at 30 Marcy Street between 11 a.m. and 6 p.m. Call 781-0019 for directions or info.

Louie Camp

Louie Camp

Phillipe & Jorge were saddened to hear of the passing last week of Louie Camp, the legendary local saxophonist and band leader. Louie's imprint on the Rhode Island musical scene was huge. He predated even the equally famed Ken Lyon as one of the originals on the local blues/R&B/rock scene here in the Biggest Little.

We recently bumped into Bruce Melucci, veteran Vo Dilun political consultant and big-time jazz and R&B music maven, and naturally got to talking about Louie. Bruce mentioned the astonishing fact that the first major local R&B/rock music event in the state was put together by Louie and another local legend, Benny Woods, at the old Johnston Theater in 1954. To give you another idea of how large a shadow Louie cast on the local scene: John Rossi, the great Roomful of Blues drummer for more than three decades, cut his teeth playing in bands with Mr. Camp. Rossi, who's no-frills, big-beat drum style was a throwback to the great drummers of the '40s and early '50s often noted that Louie is the guy who taught him how to play.

Nearly every veteran local musician has a Louie story. He loved his music, his New York System wieners and the Three Stooges, and it's local legend that he actually sparked up a friendship with Larry Fine during Porcupine Head's final years.

Louie was also famous for playing gigs where no gig had ever existed before; he played house parties, weddings and virtually every off-the-beaten track bar and dive that ever existed in the area. And he had that frenetic old Arthur Prysock sound down like nobody's business. He was an original and a sweet, sweet man. It's rumored that a memorial concert is being planned to honor the man, and we'll let you know where when all the details are ironed out. In the meantime, we join the entire local music community in mourning one of its true founding fathers.

Kudos & congrats . . .

. . . to US Senator Jack Reed and US Representative Patrick Kennedy for their strongly worded missives a few weeks back to Agriculture Secretary Dan Glickman. The letters helped to reverse a US Department of Agriculture decision that denied the state's request to issue Food Stamp benefits early, so that families could buy food for Thanksgiving. When the USDA denied Vo Dilun's request for early distribution of December and January's Food Stamp allotment, Henry Shelton, director of the George Wiley Center in Pawtucket, swung into action and contacted Jack and Patrick. We're happy to tell you that our guys in Washington responded with appropriate haste and urgency.

. . . to the Discovery Channel's live "Kitty Cam" Web site (www.discovery.com) which, all this month, is featuring a live link to the cat adoption bureau over at the Providence Animal Rescue League. Way to go!

. . . to Providence-based music impresario, Darren Hill, who reached the ripe old age of 40 recently. A swinging "time" was held for Darren at Nick-a-Nee's last Saturday night, where everyone from Mark Cutler to the Amazing Crowns to members of the Mighty, Mighty Bosstones raved on into the wee hours. Big-time Darren intimates Paul Westerberg and Matt Dillon couldn't make it, but there was enough rock 'n' roll firepower to really tear the joint up for a few memorable hours.

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