Governor Carcieri certainly revealed his flair for the dramatic when he unleashed his proposal last week to ax 1000 state employees, knowing full well that his bosom buddies at Halitosis Hall were extremely unlikely to go along with this plan. Sure enough, the legislature is going in a completely different direction, sparing the state workforce the kind of lopping envisioned by the governor.
Unanswered in all this is how the state gets on a better long-term financial footing. One-time budget fixes remain as popular with legislators as meals at the Capitalist Grille, yet it’s that kind of stuff that’s helped place us in our present predicament.
P&J have an idea, well in keeping with the direction of the state and the need for us to be well-supported in our dotage: just turn the State House into a racino, casino, or whatever the preferred description is for the places feeding into the Biggest Little’s growing dependence on gambling.
More seats on the bus
Several members of the New Public Transit Alliance held a press conference Monday to urge Governor Don “Laughing Boy” Carcieri, to do something that might actually improve the quality of mass transit in the Biggest Little. That is, heed the law and give due consideration to the National Federation of the Blind, the Gray Panthers, and the Sierra Club in his nominations for RIPTA’s Board.
Well, actually, he’s already sort of blown that. He’s already made nominations for six of the seven seats that separation of powers gives him. Not surprisingly, they’re all men, and if more than one of them regularly rides the bus, we’d be surprised.
Jorge, who regularly rides the bus and has never driven an automobile in his life, would be a classic example of someone who would never be considered for such an appointment. But since Jorge does regularly ride the bus, he does find it near criminal that there is not stronger representation on the board from those who are virtually dependent on mass transit. These include folks with disabilities or people of lower socio-economic means. These are just the people who are most knowledgeable and most passionate about RIPTA, and they are largely being ignored because, let’s face it, rich white boys don’t give much of a shit about people who ride the bus.
Straight outta East Prov
There’s nothing more exciting for an adult, and especially a parent, than to witness an emerging and special talent from a young person. This helps to explain why state Representative Elizabeth Dennigan (D-Pawtucket, East Providence) appears to be overly puffed up with pride.
It seems that the oldest of Elizabeth’s four daughters, Darcie, who lives in Los Angeles, had a poem published by the Nation in May and has another one (titled “Bullet”) in this month’s Atlantic Monthly. In the world of poetry, that’s a pretty big deal.
Darcie has a book of poetry (her first) coming out in February, published by the Fordham Press, and has a reading scheduled at Lincoln Center (yes, that Lincoln Center). This gives you an idea of the level of accomplishment already realized by this young Vo Dilunduh.
Darcie Dennigan has an MFA from the University of Michigan and has been a tuition scholar at the prestigious Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference at Middlebury College. She has also been twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize. So, move over, Galway Kinnell. It looks like we just might have two top-shelf American poets who hail from the Biggest Little.
Better yet is the evidence that Ms. Dennigan’s writing might actually be a celebration of her home state. Dig her poem, “Tearflian”:
Nary a canary can, in the can of Cranston,
sing again last spring’s curb-slush song
here I am, your canary, oh Cranston
I went on & asked them –
& they sang oh Cranston, here I am, I am.
Those syllables stay, but their consecution
Goes, each past year unbearable to recall.
Last year the chicks chirped all June for blue maw
After the mother bird drowned in a highball.
When my mother dies, I think I could only sing.
Here was I. Again & Agennigan.
But this year the canaries forgot the whole thing.
Ah, canaries! Ah, humanity!
I don’t know which to sigh for.
Oh for a region of similarity
“for the syrinx of the fat Pawtucket parrot,
who’s stuck in the perfect word rut:
Tearflian, he goes. Tear flee on. What more rot,
Happy rot, could the heart, mum in the synapses
Of molted canary memories, hum
To which P&J can only respond with the opening line of the Jackiebeat Orchestra’s song, “Providence, USA”: “What cheer, Netop, what the fuck you lookin’ at?”
They all look alike, right?
We noted this correction the New York Times of May 17:
“A picture caption on Tuesday about clashes between Hamas and Fatah in Gaza referred incorrectly in some copies to the unidentified Palestinian shown standing in the burned offices of Fatah in Gaza City. The person is a woman.”
Normally the burka is a dead giveaway.
What’s next for Tony Soprano?
While James Gandolfini has expressed his relief about being free of the burden of playing Tony Soprano (calling Sean Connery), the deliberately ambiguous ending of The Sopranos certainly plays into theorizing about a possible big-screen version of David Chase’s modern mob epic. There was much gnashing of teeth about this, and clamoring from those who found the lack of resolution less than satisfying.
P&J have our doubts about whether a film version will really be in the offering, although the possibility is there, of course. Still, in a culture that has little comfort with ambiguity, we think Chase crafted a superb ending.
Send coconuts and Pulitzer-grade tips to p&j@phx.com.
