The Gerber Diaries, pt. 3

More thoughts from behind bars from prisoner #110156.

Well, that's the last time I throw a Super Bowl party in minimum security! While the guys over in maximum had the 27-inch big screen, bacon and scallop canapes and high-end Chianti, I was left with only a 19-inch Sony, cold cuts and a few cases of Budweiser.

This life at the ACI is hell, I tell ya, although Bobo may have had a point when he said that I should have stolen as much as his buddies from the Hill, who are now in max, if I'd wanted to travel first-class in the Rhode Island penal system. I mean, it was fairly obvious from the moment the cold cuts arrived. The roast beef was medium-rare, for God's sake. Haven't these people been to Walt's, where they know how to cook it all the way through? And the linguini was soggy, too.

But none of this was as bad as that prick, Buddy Cianci, slipping a note onto the platter saying, "Bon appetit -- hope you like my spaghetti sauce. At least it's not in a can, if you get my drift." I knew I should have had one of guards who knows Italian cooking do the ordering rather than rely on some Mr. White Man like George Vose.

Well, at least the pension check cleared. And I'll have Dennis socking those bucks away where that vindictive bastard, Sheldon Whitehouse, will never find them, even if he gets the Supremes to tell me to give the money back. I thought these preppies had some sort of code of honor about treating other rich guys right, but I guess the "omerta" is a little more reliable than some Skull & Bones secret handshake.

Losing the insurance license was also a pain in the butt. Now I've got to sit around all day watching TV with a bunch of guys who look like they couldn't get a job at DOT. And nobody wants to watch soap operas, although I am thankful that Bobo was able to get the Playboy Channel. Still, too much of that too close to bedtime, and I'm not sure I like the looks in some of these guys' eyes.

But if things get really bad, I have a plan to just slide over into the real estate side of the business. As Dennis said, "Geez, Dad, you sold the State House and about a dozen other new state buildings, so a few cottages in Oakland Beach should be a piece of cake." Love that kid. He's always so optimistic.

Art attack

What a fab night at Rhodes-on-the-Pawtuxet, where the ninth annual Arts and Business Awards dinner was held last Thursday. The Armenian contingent was strong, as the marvelous Paula Martesian, publisher of Quix Art Magazine, was given the Arts Advocate Award and Diane Postoian collected the Jabez Gorham Award for Looking Glass Theatre.

Mighty film directors Peter and Bobby Farrelly were hosts for the evening, motoring down from the Cape, where they are currently hard at work on a new script. Tentatively titled Me, Myself and Eileen, it's about love among the multiple-personality set. Something is very right in the world when a couple of sophisticated wiseguys from Cumberland are the new Kings of Hollywood.

Also in attendance last Thursday was Trinity Rep head ramrod Oskar Eustis, who was sporting a cast on his wrist which he'd earned by tripping over the children's book, Smelly Cheese Man, in his home. Not to fear, though -- Oskar protected the baby, who was in his arms when he took the tumble.

Overall, there were lots of Trinity folk at the event, because longtime principal lighting director John Custer (who is currently marking his 30th year of service at Rhode Island College) and set-designing wizard Eugene Lee were also recognized. And, fortunately, Rose Weaver could just kick back and enjoy herself after singing the Star Spangled Banner at every inaugural event in the state. Wonder if anyone in our burgeoning film community has figured out that Rosie's life story would make a great film. "Naw, it's too much. Nobody would believe it," sez Our Little Towne's prima diva.

Balance for Patrick

After the latest rounds of Patrick Kennedy-bashing (a sport that can be followed regularly in the BeloJo and on talk radio), P&J must say that it was edifying to see a little balance in the form of Froma Harrop's commentary piece in Tuesday's BeloJo.

Ms. Harrop correctly noted that while Patrick has been taken to task for his impolitic statements about Senator Chafee's votes of conscience during the impeachment trial, Chafee's "conscience" seems to be in constant and convenient agreement with the far right of the Republican Party. So maybe Patrick has been (as usual) a little over the top, but is not much of his criticism reasonable? And what makes Chafee any less partisan than Kennedy? Good points all.

On Wednesday, the BeloJo published the congressman's strong response to "Faux Phil" Terzian's January 6 column, "Homelessness is out of fashion." In it, the paper's right-wing hit man sniffed and sneered at the less fortunate and reiterated the Reagan-era obscenity about people being "homeless by choice."

Sure, Patrick can get pretty shrill, but he works his ass off and he believes in something and is willing to lay it on the line. As evidenced by his response to Terzian, a sometimes awkward voice for the struggling and dispossessed is certainly better than no voice at all.

Imagine that!

Phillipe and Jorge were left in stitches over the sneering reaction of famed pugilist and Senate Majority Leader "Punchy Paul" Kelly to Governor Bigfoot's State of the State proposal to use lottery funds for future school repairs. Longtime residents of the Biggest Little not suffering from amnesia may recall that when then-Senate Majority Leader John "Mr. Arrogance" Hawkins and his fellow gambling proponents first introduced Vo Dilun Lot (which, just coincidentally, created a cushy job for Hawkins when he quit Halitosis Hall), they did so with a promise that the proceeds would help fund our sweet little children's educational needs.

Of course, that lofty ideal vanished almost immediately after the bill passed, as the hind-leggers on Smith Hill had the profits swept into the state's general fund, where the money was more accessible to their greedy hooves for special-interest and self-aggrandizing projects. No wonder Punchy Paul was incredulous -- someone at the State House actually ended up keeping a promise, through however circuitous a route.

Kudos and congrats . . .

. . . to a brace of ink-stained wretches who have made good recently . . . to Peter Lord, the BeloJo's environmental reporter since 1981, who has been appointed as Freedom Forum journalist-in-residence at URI, teaching students how to report on the environment . . . to Bob Whitcomb, who's been promoted from editorial page editor at the BeloJo to vice president . . . to Joe Hutnak, who's moved from editor of the East Greenwich Pendulum to editor of the Cranston Herald . . . and a special tip of the sombrero to the South County Independent for winning a municipal advertising contract from the town of South Kingstown. The contract had been put out to bid for the first time this year, and the Independent snared the account from the Narragansett Times, an outfit run by the unholy Journal Register Co. For those of you who don't know, this is the same bottom-feeding outfit that controls The Times of Pawtucket and The Call of Woonsocket.

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