The wise guys Still Cool, Cool after all these years BY PHILLIPE AND JORGE

Whenever Phillipe or Jorge are buttonholed on the street (and there is a distinct difference between being "buttonholed" and "corn-holed" which we may or may not get into later), the two most frequently asked questions are usually, "Hey, are you guys really homos?" and "Where do you get those crazy nicknames?" While we appreciate the interest in the column, the answer to both questions is, "Damned if we know."

Of course, anyone who is still concerned about our sexual orientations is obviously an idiot, but the stories detailing how we came up with nicknames for some of Vo Dilan’s best known or most infamous public figures is certainly fair game. And, as anyone who has been following this column for the almost 25 years of its existence could easily discern, we did it like we do most things: We make it up as we go along. Indeed, this is not what one might call "journalism" but, then again, we’ve never made any claims that we is in any way connected with journalism.

Occasionally we will cross the line and actually engage in real reporting, but what we always had in mind was scurrilous gossip and pointed opinion-mongering. It is not necessarily comforting to realize that the mainstream press has slowly followed our lead and are now heavily engaged in the same sort of hyperbolic bloviating, but that, in fact, appears to be the case.

Perhaps the nicknames that had the most staying power were created way back when. (We refuse to use the phrase "back in the day" because, well, we have our pride.) Interestingly enough, many of the nicknames that we have tagged people with were not even our original ideas.

For instance, the sobriquet "The Gerber Baby," for former governor Ed DiPrete, was actually lifted from Nancy Martin. At one time, Nancy was DiPrete’s press secretary but, before that, she was a news reporter at WHJJ radio. In the early ’80s, Jorge was hosting a talk show at ’HJJ and Nancy did the news. During that year’s election campaign, Nancy noted that DiPrete’s distinctive hairstyle bore a great resemblance to the longtime symbol for Gerber Baby Foods. This was duly noted and we ran with the name. After she went to work for DiPrete, we were reluctant to credit Nancy for her perceptive observation because we didn’t want to cause her any grief. At this point, though, we believe that the statute of limitations has run out, and both Ed and Nancy have gone their separate ways.

In the column we also regularly referred to Joe DeAngelis, the former speaker of the House, as "The Prince of Darkness." We also picked this up from members of the General Assembly at the time. We’re pretty certain that they were not calling Joe "The Prince" to his face, but we certainly didn’t come up with this idea independently.

However, we did come up with the name for his chief lackey, former Majority Leader George "of the Jungle" Caruolo, on our own. Caruolo did the heavy lifting, the arm-twisting, and threatening for "the leadership," and his overly aggressive style is legend in that chamber.

Former Governor Bruce Sundlun became "Captain Blowhard" just because it sounded so perfect for this Captain of Industry. (The late, great radio talk show host Sherm Strickhouser, no fan of Captain B., enjoyed it so much he said he nearly wet his pants laughing the first time we used it in print.) And Sundlun’s former wife, Marjorie, told us once that it was right on the money. Yet while he is still the amazing Captain Blowhard, he is someone that P&J have, over the years, learned to admire and respect. Yeah, he was way out there — blowing away vermin, fathering children out of wedlock, and hassling store clerks about plastic cutlery — but the guy had vision and cojones. We feel that history will look upon him as a first-rate governor.

Former US Representative Eddie Beard also gets a bit of an apology from P&J. We used to refer to him as "Special Ed" Beard and, sure, he wasn’t the most articulate guy to represent the Biggest Little in Washington, but he was the real deal as far as representing the working class. While we frequently didn’t agree with his positions on the issues, his post-Congressional years of service for the City of Providence coordinating activities for seniors for the City of Providence gives him serious credibility as a public figure. We once came up with a theme song for one of his ill-fated comeback bids for Congress that was to be sung to the tune of the theme song to "Mr. Ed": "A dark horse is a horse / Of course of course / And who could think of a darker horse / Unless of course that very dark horse is the famous Special Ed." Obviously, this was going nowhere.

Special Ed also was one of the pioneers for one of the prime traits for those on the Vo Dilan political scene over the past 25 years: wearing a bad rug. He was joined by, of course, Buddy "Vincent A." Cianci, but the Bud-I (another P&J moniker for hizzoner that played upon both his Buddha-like look and gargantuan ego) at least had an array of toupees that went from the "just got a haircut (honk!)" look to gradually adding a distinctive tinge of gray to his false headwarmer as he began to grow older. Others joining the parade were Rep. John "My Sharona" Celona and former A.G. Jeff "Pinetop" Pine. But winners for the most absolutely preposterous toupees, which looked like they had been dropped onto their wearer’s head from a helicopter, are Judge Robert Pirraglia and our old buddy, the tenacious and respected champion of those in need, Henry Shelton. Phillipe once remarked to the crowd at a Fund for Community Progress roast that when Henry donned a baseball cap for a prank song at the affair, it was the only normal-looking thing we had ever seen on his head. And let us not forget the Bud-I’s experience in all the top hat-and-tails pomp and ceremony at the official opening of the renovated Arcade in downtown La Prov. When they began the national anthem, he snagged his rug on his top hat and, after unsuccessful attempts to free it, ended up ignominiously going through the anthem with his hat impolitely still on his head.

So thanks for 25 years of wonderful memories to all our friends (and enemies), not only those listed above who endured our jibes but the likes of "Muffy" Farmer, "Ant-knee" Solomon, "Milkshake Matty" Smith, Johnny "Pucky" Hardwood, Harold "Amazin’ " Metts, Eileen "Jurassic Spice" Slocum, "Boy Joe" Paolino, "The Missing Linc" "Bigfoot" Almond, "Stillborn" Pell, Bob "Dorian" Weygand, "Family Men" Vinny Mesolella and Charlie Gifford, "Schneidine" Schneider, Weldon Shitehouse, Ahh-leeen Violet, John "The Journalist" DePetro, "Opie" Hummel, and M. Chuckie Bakst and Kathy "Faster Pussycat, Kill, Kill" of the Urinal, aka the BeloJo or the Other Paper.

And a final fond remembrance of the blushing bride "Tanya DiPrete," who we challenge anyone to identify, but was responsible for P&J’s first great story that nearly caused an atomic bomb to go off at 75 Fountain Street.