Phillipe + Jorge are not upset or disappointed that Governor Don “Laughing Boy” Carcieri was out of the country, in Iraq, during the recent winter storm imbroglio. After all, it was a nice opportunity for him to meet with some of the Biggest Little’s fighting men and women, and (more to the point) continue as a butt-boy for the incompetent Bush by claiming that “things are turning around” in Iraq.
We also disagree with those who think that right-wing Republicans — because of their trickle-down beliefs, dislike of government, and “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” philosophy — really don’t care about natural disasters, which always impact the poor more severely than the wealthy. Just because Bush completely blew Hurricane Katrina doesn’t mean there’s a connection between that and the Carcieri administration’s equally inept response to last week’s snow.
Remember that most of the municipal DPWs in the state, controlled by the equally inept Democrats, also performed poorly. Providence appeared to be the epicenter of incompetence, much to the delight of the Bud-I, who could not contain his glee while providing storm commentary on WLNE (Channel 6.) That’s what the city gets for trying to cope with bad weather without the mighty former mayor in charge. We do hope, however, that Providence school superintendent Donnie Evans, from his living room command post, got to enjoy the Bud-I’s performance.
Meanwhile, Cranston’s DPW, which is apparently staffed by the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz, was particularly ineffectual during Sunday’s follow-up storm. One Casa Diablo regular from Edgewood called around noon, complaining that not one non-main street in the neighborhood had been touched. One flying monkey responded that the trucks “were out there,” and she knew of “one” that was at just that very moment heading onto a street whose name she couldn’t quite remember.
The governor’s reading of the state constitution was correct — it’s true that the lieutenant governor really had no leadership function in Laughing Boy’s absence. And, of course, Laughing Boy neglected to let Elizabeth Roberts’s office know that he was going to the other end of the earth for a few days. What does Laughing Boy care? Who needs a competent, intelligent, thoughtful executive when she’s a Democrat? Keep her the hell out of the loop, please.
Regardless of the obvious screw-ups on the part of all sorts of agencies, big and small, state and municipal, your superior correspondents tend to agree with an insight expressed by more than a few officials, pundits, and regular citizens (including Jorge’s favorite cab driver, Kenny): there are just too many automobiles on the road in Little Rhody.
Cocaine blues
Reuters reported on Tuesday that Santa Claus, en route a few days earlier to a children’s Christmas party in Rio De Janeiro, Brazil, was fired at by machine gun-wielding drug traffickers in the Vila Joao shantytown.
Officials in Rio reported that the drug dealers thought a police helicopter was trying to disrupt their operation and opened fire. Undeterred after the helicopter was forced back to its base, Santa made it to his destination by automobile and distributed Christmas presents.
Change of the guard at the narry
The Narragansett Café in Jamestown, the Biggest Little’s answer to the bar in Star Wars, is among the state’s iconic watering holes. From its rocking, cover charge-free band nights on the weekends, its hosting countless charity gigs, and its lengthy, classic shuffle bowling plank, the joint has a special place in P+J’s heart.
The Narry, as many call it, is changing hands, with owner Dan Alexander and his brother, Tom, selling the landmark to his friend and fellow Jamestowner John Recca. From all accounts, Mr. Recca intends to retain the bar’s staff, continue the recently burgeoning cafe food menu, and maintain the unparalleled entertainment and ambience.
We cannot say enough good things about Dan Alexander, his wife, the Lovely Lynnie, and the rest of the whole sickly crew of tarbenders, bouncers, dog’s bodies, and wild and crazy regulars who make up the Narry’s ever-presents. Dan’s commitment to supporting local musicians and good causes, and giving the public free rock ’n’ roll, from the best bands he could find, set the tone for a carefree, upbeat atmosphere.
P+J have only witnessed one fight there in countless years of visits, and that involved an esteemed drunken doctor, following a New Year’s Day Penguin Plunge, who insisted on taking on the local gendarmes even when they tried easing his way home. As Ron White would say, he had the right to remain silent, but not the ability.
John Recca will hopefully continue this proud tradition. Your superior correspondents recall wistfully hot summer nights at the Café, with the doors and windows wide open, James Montgomery blowing his harp and doing knee-drops on stage; cold beers and cocktails flowing, and a mix of bikers, sun-scorched turistas; local Swamp Yankees, boat hands, Bohos, and visitors from across the bridges; and even white-haired old-money ladies and gents in lime-green plaid golf attire standing and sitting around the perimeter, playing pool and rocking the dance floor. Encore!