Light on dark days

Having read the quote of one of the Marines who was sent to Liberia to defend the US Embassy in Monrovia — "I don’t know why we’re here. It’s Liberians fighting Liberians" — a less cynical perspective might help explain our presence.

Freed American slaves created Liberia and they consider America their "big brother," and Phillipe and Jorge have our own personal tale to tell. While on a working visit to one of the less luxurious Providence nursing homes a few years ago, we spotted — unbeknownst to her — a black attendant lovingly stroking the wispy white hair of a very elderly patient in a wheelchair, who may have been unaware that anyone was even touching her. It was a wonderful and moving scene.

When we later spoke to the attendant, we discovered that she, like a number of the other nursing home employees, was Liberian. She had come to the US to escape the early days of Charles Taylor’s brutal reign in her country. Joined by her fellow Liberians, they told us stories of how their husbands had to flee into the jungle to avoid the warfare, while they came here to make a living and raise their children. Some hadn’t heard from their spouses since leaving and, of course, missed them terribly. But they spoke glowingly of the opportunity in America to avoid the mass killing and make a living by caring for others, compos mentis or not. So the next time someone dismisses those "Liberians," think of a person showing unconditional affection, despite their own hardship, for an elderly relative who could easily be your mother or grandmother. Selah.

No lie, man

There are very few things Phillipe & Jorge have not seen with these jaded eyes, but until this past weekend, a hole-in-one, live and in person, was one of them.

But thanks to Lyman D’Andrea, one of the most popular players at the Jamestown golf course, we saw him ace the seventh hole during a scramble tournament in which we were partners on the same team. Not only did the 73-year-old youngster drain a five wood from 170 yards for his first-ever hole-in-one, but it ended up being the shot that won him and his teammates $50 after tying for first place. As the saying goes, it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. You’re buying, Lyman.

Church at the crossroads

It looks like the Anglican Church (that’s the Episcopal Church here in the U-S of A) will be the first mainline denomination to face the issue of superior behavior and scriptural belief. Phillipe & Jorge don’t have to tell you where we stand on this, but then again, we’d be bounced out of the Anglican communion, because we don’t buy into the Bible as the inspired word of God. So be it. But religious beliefs change with time, and we believe the interpretation of the Bible will change in regard to same-sex love. After all, stoning adulterers went out a long time ago, as did shunning women during menstruation (it’s all in the Bible, folks).

As a case in point, Jorge remembers the General Convention of the Episcopal Church held in Houston, Texas, in 1970. Yes, Jorge was a "special delegate" to that convention. There was one rather embarrassing issue on the agenda. You see, women were not allowed to be voting members of the convention.

At the previous convention in 1967, a number of women had been elected as delegates by various dioceses, but they were not yet eligible to vote since two consecutive conventions had to vote in favor of changing the bylaws. It was going to happen at the 1970 convention, everyone knew it, and almost everyone knew that it was right. The exception was a member of the delegation from the Diocese of Rhode Island.

One of the four elected delegates, the late Joseph Venable, opposed giving women voting rights in the church. Another delegate, the late John Nicholas Brown, was too ill to attend, and his spot was taken by an alternate, Harold Reed. Unfortunately for Mr. Reed, he was pals with Mr. Venable, and Joe convinced him that the vote on the seating of female delegates was merely a formality and didn’t really mean anything. The final tally was something like 138 in favor-to-one against — that one being the Diocese of Rhode Island — and Jorge will never forget how stupid and shocked he felt.

An exact repeat is unlikely this week in Minneapolis, when the Episcopal Church’s General Convention will vote on whether to accept the newly elected, openly gay bishop of New Hampshire. Ultimately, we expect the Episcopal Church to be on the right side of history, even if it faces some polarization as a result. We say, remember Montgomery, remember Selma, and do the right thing.

So long, Bob

Some might think that because your superior correspondents were young men during the Vietnam era, we might not have much respect for, or interest in, Bob Hope. Indeed, he made a string of lousy movies starting in the early ’60s, his television comedy specials were uniformly unfunny, and as one of the higher profile cheerleaders for the Vietnam war, we didn’t have much use for the guy.

Nonetheless, we are students of comedy, and Hope deserves our appreciation and respect. He created a character that was immediately identifiable — the cowardly scam artist with ridiculous bravado, backed up by nothing. It was a very seductive and funny character. He played it very well and was very funny in a lot of the films he made from the ’30s through the ’50s. His annual appearances as one of the longest running emcees of the Academy Awards telecasts were also pretty darned funny. The guy was a consummate pro.

If you think about it, his Vietnam adventures were understandable. He had been entertaining American GIs for decades and saw support for the war as a continuation of the same. Your superior correspondents perceived this particular war as a mammoth mistake (the fault of our government, and certainly not our courageous troops). Ultimately, Hope was right to do what he did — as someone who heeded the call of patriotism — and we were wrong to single him out for criticism. Bob Hope richly deserved all the accolades he recently received on his 100th birthday. We salute him on his passing.

More BS

How much more BS — Bush shit — are Americans willing to take from the White House and Bush administration?

It’s bad enough that Dubya made up the threat of weapons of mass destruction and lied about Saddam Hussein attempting to get uranium from Niger, so he could whisk us into war. His purported links between Saddam and Al Qaeda were also invented. Let’s not forget how Georgie Boy jumps when top chicken hawks Rummy Rumsfeld and Big Time Cheney tell him what to do. Is the American public so gullible and just plain stupid that they forget how Poppy’s boy dodged National Guard duty during the Vietnam War, thanks to daddy, whenever they see Dubya doing a bogus Top Gun charade with a sock in his shorts? Yeah, a real tough character. "Bring ’em on. I’ll be hiding under the bed in Crawford."

Now it has been revealed that national security adviser Condi Rice has been lying through her considerable teeth not only about the false uranium intel, but also the very real Al Qaeda threats that the government knew about prior to September 11. Throwing her aide Stephen Hadley and CIA director George Tenet to the media wolves, at the direction of Big Time, won’t make this go away. This is patriotic?

All fingers point directly at Saudi Arabia for its financial support and social succor of the 9/11 terrorists, yet Boy George and Rummy continue to shake their fists at the pretend threat of Iran and Syria. Meanwhile, the Saudi ambassador, Prince Bandar, swans around New York with the Baba Wawa ego-obsessed media set. Not that Big Oil ever influences those sorts of decisions, right?

Perhaps the most shocking, damning, and outright illegal thing that the Bushies have done was outing the wife of former ambassador Joseph Wilson, who investigated the Niger-Iraq uranium story almost a year before Dubya mentioned it in his State of the Union address. Wilson found out it was untrue, but Dubya’s crack intelligence people (honk!) claim they never heard about Wilson’s trip. Now that Wilson has gone public, White House officials revealed his wife as a covert CIA agent, a violation of laws protecting such agents from exposure, and a potential threat to her life. Again, these are patriots?

The stench on Pennsylvania Avenue is getting unbearable, and yet Karl Rove and Dubya’s image-makers play the American public like a Stradivarius. Sorry, folks, but if you’re buying this act, you’re a moron, because Georgie Boy is all hat and no cowboy.

Beached

A great piece in the New York Times on Sunday, July 20 on Spouting Rock Beach in Newport, a.k.a. Bailey’s Beach, the enclave of the rich and inbred. It naturally featured the hideous social moth Eileen Slocum, among a host of other elites, commenting on their exclusive club through clenched jaws.

P&J have our own stories to tell about Bailey’s. On one occasion, Phillipe escorted actor Ted Danson there with some members on a fundraising visit for Save The Bay. Despite this being the height of Danson’s popularity on Cheers, virtually no one had a clue who he was, but all the pretty young things still went after him like red meat.

During lunch Danson turned to P. and said, "They wouldn’t let us in here on our own, would they?," leaving your superior correspondent to nearly choke on his salad in convulsive laughter. Danson grinned and said, "Thought so." On another occasion, an old pal who was a member told us how she brought in a black friend who was a famous fashion model from New York City. She got a letter from the club secretary the next week, informing her she should only bring beach guests "who would be considered for membership," or words to that effect.

Sleep tight, Eileen. All’s right (and white) in the world.

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