Ruling with an Irons fist?

Well, you can't ever say that state senator Bill Irons is the shy and retiring type. So it wasn't a surprise when he boldly declared last week that he has the votes to wrest the senate majority leader's seat from Senator Paul "Slappy" Kelly, even before the results of the November 7 election are in.

Naturally, Slappy immediately implied that Irons was talking through his hat. But the race has gotten closer, with Kelly calling it a "horse race," while Irons shyly and demurely replied, "I know the race is over."

Whether it's a horse race at this stage, or just beating a dead equine, as Irons implies, Phillipe and Jorge would like to see a lineup of just who each competitor has lined up in his camp. As P&J mentioned here recently, the politics of the State House mean that should Irons, chairman of the Senate Corporations Committee, prevail in his power struggle, he'll quickly slip these as-yet-unnamed supporters into seats of power at the head of other committees, where the votes and decisions on which bills reach the floor can most easily be controlled.

This would bode poorly for Kelly cohorts like Michael Lenihan, chair of Senate Finance, and Teresa Paiva-Weed, chair of Senate Judiciary, both of whom have done very good work in those posts. If Billy Boy is indeed correct in his nose-counting, these pols and their pals in Slappy's camp will effectively become backbenchers in the Senate chambers. Their proposed legislation will be looked on with less than a little favor, if the history on Smith Hill tells us anything.

Although we are sure the grapevine is a-tremble with the names of the various potential kingmakers, we would sure like to have someone go on the record with as close to a complete list as possible of each group. Failing that, give P&J a call if you know how the chips will fall; we'd be happy to run the names and keep yours out of it.

Traditional GOP solutions to the oil crisis

In yet another bold move that has become the signature style of his administration, Governor Bigfoot has boldly told Vo Dilunduhs that there's nothing the state can do to increase our oil supplies. Although he neglected to plug the free coat exchange that a number of activists conduct on the State House lawn each year on the day after Thanksgiving, we sorta think we know what the governor has in mind. So folks, bundle up real good and trust in the free marketplace to keep you warm this winter.

Shaggy dog stories

It has been commented upon more than once that elections here in the US of A are conducted like a veritable dog and pony show. This year, some Democratic candidates are determined to underscore this point. First, Al Gore was heard running around the country talking about how both his mother-in-law and his dog (Shiloh of the black Lab clan) were using the arthritis drug Lodine. Then, our own Bob "Dorian" Weygand started saying that his black Lab, Casey, was also a Lodine user. The moral of the story is that a monthly Lodine prescription for Fido cost $37.80, while the humans are charged $109.90. Currently, there are no reliable statistics on how many people haul dogs off the street to get the Lodine from a vet to save the 72 bucks.

Of course, this little anecdote is being used to illustrate unfair practices in the pharmaceutical industry. Fair enough, but now comes word from tenacious National Public Radio reporters that Dorian's doggy has never been on Lodine. Weygand won't respond to the charges, leaving himself open to claims that maybe he's on LSD or some other mind-altering chemical.

The most suspicious part of this whole story is that it sounds like something out of some Democratic candidates' playbook. We're beginning to wonder how many other candidates might have drug-taking dogs. At least, in the case of Weygand's opponent, Linc Chafee, he took the drugs himself, rather than feeding them to those horses he was taking care of. Meanwhile, P&J pledge to limit our apocryphal tales about beings on all-fours consuming drugs to what went on during ancient times in the men's room at Leo's.

Meeting of the minds

As you already know, the Billary Administration has made a budget request of $435 million to help write off some of the debt facing poorer countries in our world. Strange as it may seem, if the budget request passes, we may have to thank the lobbying efforts of one Bono (aka Paul Hewitt) of U2.

Two weeks ago, Bono, who has been spending a considerable amount of time on this effort, visited Senator Jesse Helms, head of the Foreign Relations Committee, in Washington to urge him to help pass the aid package. According to the New Yorker, "(Helms) was so overcome by Bono's presentation that tears ran down his cheeks, and he was heard to utter, as a member of Bono's entourage subsequently recalled, `You can have your $435 million. You can have more.' "

This is a lovely story and, certainly, the poorer people of the world need help, but the problem is that $435 million is a mere drop in the bucket. Alleviating global poverty seems to be a pretty low priority on the campaign trail. In fact, we haven't heard Bush or Gore address the issue. Add to this the restrictive and overly complicated criteria demanded by the IMF and World Bank to actually receive any funding, and you have what appears to be a token gesture. Some people will survive because of this gesture, and we thank Bono and the other big names for trying to make a difference. But the idea that they have to actually haggle over this in Congress, as yet another little bargaining chip during an election year, is depressing beyond reason.

If drop-in visits by rock 'n' roll luminaries is what it takes, then by all means let's have Michael Stipe hang with Trent Lott and the Insane Clown Posse make a surprise visit to Tom DeLay's insane clown posse.

URI students for Bush

Sure, sure, George Dubya went to Yale, but there's a little bit of that Bush magic working its way around URI when it comes to putting one's Hush Puppy in one's mouth.

P&J remember two years ago, when we attended a URI-Brown soccer match, and heard the student announcer give the half-time score as, "The University of Rhode Island 0, the University of Brown 1," without his tongue being anywhere near in his cheek. Then, September 30 as your superior correspondents made their way through the parking lot in Kingstown at half-time -- we root for both teams, natch -- we heard another undergrad at the microphone describe to us the "seen-ah-ree-oh" of the game as it moved to the break. Might that be "scenario," Shakespeare?

But you can't top a women's hair salon, we were informed by the Pretty Miss P, whose new hairdresser leapt right into a highbrow conversation last week, extolling the poetic talents of the author of The Divine Comedy, whom she proudly referred to as "Dante Allegheny."

Still, P&J will always remember the moron we were sitting next to at Fainelli's Bar in New York City's SoHo in the late 1970s, who tried to impress the two women with him with his knowledge of nearby Chinatown and Chinese cuisine, declaring, "Yeah, we all went to a place on Mott Street and had some of that Saskatchewan food." Ba-boom!

Thank you very much

Phillipe and Jorge are chuffed to naffibreaks after a wonderful turnout at our roast on September 28, which celebrated 20 years of this annoying column while benefiting the much-deserving Fund for Community Progress.

In addition hailing to the ones who did the heavy lifting -- Steve Brown, associate publisher of the Providence Phoenix, Nondas Voll, the fund's executive director, and board member Janet Marcantonio -- we also must prostrate (prostate?) ourselves before honorary co-chair Senator Jack Reed, emcee Bob Kerr of the Urinal and roasters Myrth "Peppermint Patty" York, the state's shadow governor; JARhead ace investigator and spaccone Jim Taricani; Superior Court judge and bubble bath queen Rogeriee Thompson; the hilarious Attorney General Sherbet Whitebread, who stole the show; and the wild and crazy mayor of Providence, Buddy "Vincent A." Cianci, king of the Biltmore.

Since we didn't say anything nice about them that night -- for good reason after we had our unmentionables ripped off by this crew of vicious bastards -- we'd like to chime in now and say how much we appreciate Jack Reed, one of the most honest and decent men we've ever met, lending his (formerly) good name to the cause and sending along a videotape, which was unfortunately and promptly eaten by the VCR.

Bob Kerr, a guy with a huge conscience and tremendous wit, neither of which were dulled by a tour of Vietnam to fight a war that many of our generation conveniently avoided, has been a longtime idol of P&J. How much we respect the success and good hearts of Rogeriee and Myrth, two strong women who won't back down for what they believe in, and who have many times overcome long odds to succeed.

Our sincere admiration for Jim Taricani's tenacity in getting the best scoops -- along with our old pal Dyana Koelsch -- and maintaining what little honor is left in local TV news, and doing it while puttering on about his second heart. And to Hizzoner, the Bud-I, our thanks for just being himself, which is enough to grab laughs and make people clutch their heads at his audacity, all the while being the best cheerleader La Prov has ever known.

That said, you know we're going to be right back here in this space next week, making fun of all of you at every chance we get, so enjoy the reprieve.

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