Spring Fever

I’m grabbing at spring. A few weeks ago, I lingered in bed, listening to the first mourning dove of 2009 calling eerily in the pre-dawn light. A couple of weeks later, I watched the first robin drop into my yard, poking under the snow and white shell, looking for frozen worms in the unthawed earth. I’ve seen migratory sea birds coming and going in the cove, resting before resuming their long journeys. I even keep a spring checklist. Pitchers and catchers report to Florida. Check. Move clocks forward to save evening daylight. Check. Hear the first peepers of spring...hello? Are you out there?

A few weeks ago I attended the R.I. Spring Flower and Garden Show, which forces the season to bloom in the dank cave of the R.I. Convention Center. For gardeners and nature lovers, the flower show is a lift-your-spirits kind of activity, despite the jostling crowds and hawking vendors. While the ice and slush outside make a mess of things, indoors spring lives in a dimension of familiar sights, sounds, smells and textures. Mary Chace, a volunteer for the R.I. Wild Plant Society, said the joy of the flower show is “finally seeing some color after seeing no color or being tired of shoveling the white color.”

Flower shows are mid-to-late-winter rituals in northern climes, usually coming about six weeks after the polar plunges of early winter on the non-traditional seasonal calendar of activities for sun-deprived northerners. First, we jump into the frigid ocean to face winter and the coming year. Then, we duck inside to sniff the perfume and remind ourselves that spring will come eventually. It always has. It always will. Right? The Green Man delivers. He's not as punctual as Father Christmas, but Mother Nature will shove him out the door one of these days.

The good news is Rhode Island got one right for once. Because this year, all across the northern U.S., from Boston to Bangor, Cleveland to Allentown, flower shows have been pruned from the winter calendar, including the New England Flower Show. A regional tradition and the nation’s most famous outside of Philadelphia, the New England Flower Show was started in 1929 and survived even the Great Depression. And it wasn't the only one to be weed-whacked. The Greater New York Orchid Society canceled its annual exhibition and longtime flower shows in Seattle and San Francisco are also in peril. In a quote from a New York Times article on the death of flower shows nationally, Duane Kelly, founder of the San Francisco Flower and Garden Show, spoke of the event's appeal.

Gardening is extremely visceral. You want to smell, you want to see firsthand, you want to touch. The first time I went to the Philadelphia and Boston shows, I was transported from the end of winter to the middle of May or June. It was a very heady experience.

In a column I wrote for this week’s newspaper, I spoke of the loss of a famous Galway bookstore in the same way. Ultimately, it is the loss of visceral experience, as much as anything, that makes the digital era so difficult for some of us to embrace. So spare the flowers, Rhode Island. New England winters are made bearable by omens of spring, and Thoreau reminds us that “we need the tonic of wildness.” Or in the case of frozen February, we’ll settle for the tonic of the illusion of wildness, thorns and all.

What is your favorite sign of spring?

Road Island

First, apologies for the late blog. Flu, fever and a wild Monday snowstorm conspired to send me into a state of delirium. (Even managed to lose my cell phone, despite spending most of the past 48 hours in bed or on the couch.) When your body is achy, and you have a one-hour commute, you tend to feel every pothole, so it’s just bad luck (and bad weather) that this is the worst season for potholes in Rhode Island in years. On Stony Fort Road in Kingston, I struck potholes deep enough and frost heaves high enough to challenge the topographical maps that suggest Rhode Island is a state without canyons and mountains.

But the sorry state of the road in Rhode Island isn’t limited to torn-up asphalt. Our bridges are among the worst maintained in the nation and trying to park in places like Newport and Providence may soon take over from standing in line at the DMV as the most frustrating quintessential R.I. experience. The parking garage at the Providence Place Mall - an existential concrete void so lacking in common sense that a group of Providence artists actually lived in it for more than a year without anybody noticing - is the physical manifestation of Sartre’s “No Exit.” Closer to home, the chaotic comings-and-goings at the parking lot contained within Belmont Shoppers Park in Wakefield seems purposefully designed for accidents, sending pedestrians, vehicles and shopping carts into a free-wheeling blitzkrieg of human Frogger.

This week’s question, for those of you who only visit online: Where is the worst pothole or parking lot in Rhode Island?

Otherwise, this Thursday the Arts & Living section will reveal its new design, a more contemporary look with the added benefit of creating more editorial space. For those of you who get the paper: What do you like or dislike about the new Arts & Living section?

Oscars edition

Taking a cue from our music columnist, Dylan Sevey, who gives his Grammy wrap-up in this Thursday’s edition of The Independent, I decided to devote today’s blog to random observations about last night’s Oscars. With two Rhody-connected actors up for awards (Viola Davis for Best Supporting Actress in “Doubt” and Richard Jenkins for Best Actor in “The Visitor”) and former Rhode Island School of Design student Gus Van Sant a Best Director nominee for “Milk,” this year’s Hollywood love-fest had an Ocean State tint. And since I skipped Riverside’s best Oscar party, held annually at the home of longtime friends Tom, Liz and Samantha Viall, I dealt with my guilt the only way I know how, by keeping a notebook going:

It all begins with the fawning sycophants with microphones on the red carpet asking insipid questions to shell-shocked celebrities. The red carpet is like a NASCAR track. People watch for the crash (whether by fashion or interview) more than the race.

Davis and Jenkins both get their turn in the red carpet spotlight but are victimized by dim-witted queries that produce painfully forced answers. At the tail end of an awkward interview with Jenkins, Robin Roberts finally acknowledges his wife, sputtering: “He’s wonderful to live with, I’m sure.” Off-mike just before a cut to commercial we hear the response: “He is.”

The three most wincing red carpet moments: 3) Mickey Rourke announcing that he had a tuxedo made for his longtime companion and Chihuahua Loki, which passed away six days prior to the Oscars. 2) The look on Marisa Tomei’s face when the interviewer said: “Mickey Rourke says he likes seeing you with your clothes off but I love seeing you with your clothes on.” 1) The following exchange between the microphone-in-a-tux and Anne Hathaway: “What are you wearing tonight that actually belongs to you?” “I actually can’t tell you that. It is a bit too intimate.”

The engaging and likeable Hugh Jackman starts strong and ends up giving the best performance of the night. Not only is he a triple threat as actor-singer-dancer, Jackman seemed at ease in the host gig. While most know him for his role as superhero mutant Wolverine, Jackman is equally adept at drama and comedy. There was no signature moment that defined his night, and he just about disappeared from the stage after his musical montage number, but there has never been an Oscar host that has shown more diversity.

Best opening moment: Jackman wooing Kate Winslet with the phrase, “I would swim a sea of human excrement.”

Thumb’s up to the Oscar nod to our nation’s economic woes. Despite a lavish set that recalled the style of old Hollywood, the high concept for the opening number was a low budget. Jackman deftly played along with the celebration of cardboard glitz and carnival kitsch, culminating in a finale with giant cut-out Oscar figures.

Eight minutes into the show, we had our second standing O. By my count the standing ovations made it to double digits during the evening – at least 10 in all. While I don’t begrudge Hollywood its love-in, the standing O itself has jumped the shark, as anyone who attends plays locally will attest. In fact, I can’t remember the last time a play didn’t get a standing O, which begs the question: Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of the standing O? What happens if we actually see something transcendent? Where do we go from there? Pogo O? Stage dive O? Bodysurf O?

What seemed like a good idea in theory – getting five former Oscar winners in a particular category to introduce this year’s nominees – was a little clumsy in practice. For every good moment (Robert De Niro introducing Sean Penn), there were two that made you cringe (including Adrien Brody, who seemed like the kid who crammed for his exam an hour before the test as he stumbled through his tribute to Jenkins). The way all five entered the stage you’d have thought they were competing on a celebrity edition of “The Weakest Link.” Bottom line: It dragged.

Writer’s bias here, but I absolutely loved the Steve Martin-Tina Fey collaboration as co-presenters for Best Original Screenplay and Best Adapted Screenplay. Tina: “It has been said that to write is to live forever.” Steve: “The man who wrote that is dead.”

Most awkward moment of the night was watching Jennifer Aniston attempt comedy with Jack Black with Brangelina sitting in the front row. The former better half of Brennifer seemed unnerved.

Loved Ben Stiller’s parody of the Joaquin Phoenix Letterman appearance. (If you haven’t seen Joaquin's Andy Kaufmanesque turn, YouTube it.)

By and large, the tributes were good, including Seth Rogan and James Franco’s stoner review (with sidekick cinematographer Jadocs Kaminsky) of 2008 comedies; video montages of love stories and action flicks; and the inventive top hat-and-tails musical medley featuring Jackman, Beyonce and Zac Efron.

The Abbafication of the Earth has reached new levels.

Most self-serving moment: Bill Maher using his role as Best Documentary presenter to complain that nobody watched his.

Biggest tearjerker: Tie: 1) Heath Ledger winning for his remarkable performance as The Joker in “The Dark Knight,” prompting an eloquent tribute from his family as celebrity eyes welled around the room. 2) What the Riverside Oscar party likes to call “the Dead Roll,” reminding us of the Hollywood icons, including Paul Newman, who passed away since the last awards ceremony.

Most exciting moment: The Bollywood-inspired performance of Best Song nominees.

Best acceptance speech: Penn for Best Actor (in “Milk”). He was self-effacing but passionate and eloquent in promoting the cause of gay rights. But his most gracious words were saved for last, when he acknowledged Rourke’s comeback, closing with: “He is my brother.”

What was your favorite Oscar moment?

Presidents Day edition

There has never been a U.S. president from Rhode Island and, while you should never say never, let’s face it, the chances of it happening are slimmer than the odds that people will get tired of these computer thingamabobs and go back to newspapers.

Rhode Island’s irrelevance is such that many presidents don’t even bother to stop by for a wiener and a coffee milk while they’re campaigning. George W. Bush only managed one trip, late in his term, when he flew to the Naval War College in Newport and spoke for 45 minutes. Of course, W had an aversion to Blue States, but Rhode Island’s odd history with presidents goes all the way back to the beginning. In 1789, George Washington, upset that the colony still hadn’t agreed to statehood, made a horseback journey through all of the territories comprising the new union while pointedly omitting Rhode Island from the tour. One year later, he came back for the chowder after Rhode Island became the last of the 13 colonies to ratify the Constitution.

Abe Lincoln, who is trendier than Brangelina all of a sudden after President Barack Obama was sworn in with his Bible and created a Cabinet (not the Rhode Island ice-cream shake kind) based on his “Team of Rivals” concept, visited Little Rhody thrice. The first time, in 1848, he did nothing more than change trains in Providence. But in 1860 Lincoln made two visits, speaking about slavery in February at the old train station in what is now Kennedy Plaza and again in March in Woonsocket. This year, in honor of the 200th anniversary of his birth, R.I. Lincoln scholar Frank J. Williams created the Web site “Abraham Lincoln Bicentennial 2009-RI,” which, among other details, chronicles Honest Abe’s Rhody adventures.

George H. W. Bush famously held his R.I. fund-raising dinner at The Rhode Island Shore Dining Hall at Rocky Point Park. The late, lamented amusement park was also the site of the first presidential phone call. Rutherford B. Hayes, enjoying a summer clambake at Rocky Point, got up from a plate of steamers to take the call from Alexander Graham Bell, who was staying in Providence. His famous first words? “Please speak a little more slowly.”

What is your favorite story involving Rhode Island and a U.S. president?

Not So E-Z

Nothing comes E-Z in Rhode Island, especially the state’s first E-ZPass, which has replaced the tolls on the Newport Bridge. The tolls were gone by St. Brigid’s Day (Feb. 1), but the resulting mess felt more like Groundhog Day, as the inconveniences started to multiply. Some people ordered their devices weeks ago online, and still haven’t received them. Others had to endure an interminable wait in the E-ZPass line just below the bridge in Jamestown. (For the story of my experience, read below.) Last week my editor received her first E-ZPass bill in the mail and it included trips taken through the Lincoln Tunnel and the George Washington Bridge. Turns out that the truck transporting the transponders went through those Middle Atlantic state tolls, and Rhode Islanders who picked up those devices for their own cars also picked up the fees. Just another mess for the R.I. Bridge and Turnpike Authority, which has already seen a half-dozen drivers blow through the bars at the E-ZPass tolls.

Taking its toll
From the moment she stepped through the doorway, the little gray-haired lady with fiery eyes and a sharp tongue made it clear that she was out for blood – Rhode Island blood.
“This is a stupid state,” she said, as the line wound out the door to the makeshift E-ZPass acquisition office at the R.I. Bridge and Turnpike Authority complex in Jamestown. “There isn’t a stupider state in the United States. They should split it up and give it to Connecticut and Massachusetts.”
“They already tried that,” she was told. “Didn’t work. We resisted.”
But the lady didn’t want to hear about history.
“Well, they should try again,” she said. “Anything to get rid of this stupid state.” Random timing being what it is, I had the misfortune of being the person in line in front of the anti-Rhode Islander. Reading the novel I had brought with me in anticipation of a long wait wasn’t possible under the circumstances. She was full of spit and vinegar, poison and vitriol.
“Everything this state does is stupid,” she said.
Most of three dozen or so applicants avoided eye contact and gently ignored her ravings, presumably respectful of her age and frail appearance. A few even commiserated. But she wouldn’t let up.
“I mean, have you ever seen such a stupid thing in your life as this,” she asked, as we filed one by one into the boxy building with bad carpet and slid seat by seat down cheap mismatched chairs to wait for our turn to purchase an E-ZPass. “This stuff would never happen in ‘Joisey.’ That’s where I’m from. ‘Joisey.’”
By now we had established the waiting room rhythm that would tick like a time bomb for the next hour. In a setting that was a cross between “The Office” and the annex to Dante’s “Inferno,” the little old lady ruled as the Queen of Darkness, peppering her speech with liberal doses of “stupid” and “Joisey.”
I tried keeping my head riveted to the middle paragraph of a stripper scene in “The Garden of Last Days” by Andre Dubus III. But Joisey Queen kept interrupting.
“You hear what they removed from those old token machines,” she asked, rhetorically, since no one was answering. “Wads of gum, Peppermint Patties, slugs, Chuck E. Cheese tokens, old Irish money. Nobody even used tokens in this stupid state.”
We all scooted over to the next musical chair. As she got up to move, a man from the seated aisle asked, “Why are you here?”
“I had to come up and be near my daughter,” she said. “Now they’re moving to Florida and I’m going to be stuck here.”
The gentleman next to me leaned over and whispered: “Wonder why.”
She appeared to have no social graces. When a young man took a seat at the table, she blurted out: “Look at him. So young to be carrying so much weight. That’ll kill him.” He was three feet away from her. In surprise, he turned to look and she said, “What a shame.”
Directly in front of us, one of the workers took over for another. She was wearing an attractive blouse that revealed a little cleavage.
“That’s no way to dress for work,” the lady grumbled. Later, as several customers got out of their chairs and workers started preparing for the next wave, the lady said: “Look at this. Not one of them is working.” Even though all of them were working.
Finally, the lady joined me at the table.
“It’s about time,” she said to the woman in front of her. “Well, get on with it.”
“Don’t let her get the pass for 83 cents,” said one guy still in line, finally fed up with the running commentary. “She’s got nothing good to say about Rhode Island.”
The lady ignored him, asking the temp: “Where were you born?”
“Rhode Island.”
“Despicable,” the lady said. “Disgusting.”
“You could move,” the temp said, clearly taken aback. “I like it here.”
“I’m stuck here,” the lady said.
“The other 49 states already kicked her out,” said 83-cent man.
“Why is this taking so long,” the lady asked.
“We’ve had some trouble with the system,” the temp said.
“Typical. Stupid Rhode Island.”
“Actually, the system comes from New Jersey,” the temp said.
“‘Joisey.’ I wish I’d never left.”
“So do we,” said 83-cent man. “God help us.”

This week’s question: What Newport Bridge token substitute will you miss tossing the most?

Oscars Wild

Rhode Island’s sudden prominence in the Academy Awards prompted a bit of a journey to “the Google,” where I discovered a link to the “Top Movies Filmed in Rhode Island.”

“Little Children” (2006)
“Rain Man” (1988)
“Tiger Bay” (1959)
“Reversal of Fortune” (1990)
“There’s Something About Mary” (1998)
“True Lies” (1994)
“Thirteen Days” (2000)
“Amistad” (1997)
“The Ring” (2002)
“Romper Stomper” (1992)

Notice anything unusual? At least five of those films have no Rhode Island in them whatsoever. A thousand Kevin Bacons couldn’t make the connection. The only Rhode Island link to “Romper Stomper,” starring a relatively unknown Russell Crowe in a film set in Melbourne, Australia, is the fact that in 1992 I was in Melbourne, watching it.

The Ocean State is carving out a reputation as a Hollywood back lot. From the third season of “Brotherhood” on Showtime to the Richard Gere dog-bonding movie “Hachiko: A Dog’s Story,” Rhody locations from Woonsocket to Westerly are getting a digital workout (which sounds, come to think of it, like one of those phrases we should never use again). The Rhody celluloid universe has even made it to France, where the romantic comedy “Dan in Real Life,” (2006) starring Steve Carrell and Juliette Binoche, is known as “Love at First Sight in Rhode Island.”

Leading to this week’s question: What is your favorite Rhode Island movie moment?

My choice is a bit of a cheat, since the movie was actually filmed on Martha’s Vineyard, but it’s the scene of Quint (Robert Shaw) drinking Narragansett lager in “Jaws.” In the 1970s, nothing said Rhode Island better than slamming a Gansett and crushing the can.

Only in Rhode Island
Sports fans succumb to occasional tribal madness, but you don’t often see them actually run onto the court during games to protest non-calls by a referee. Providence College Friar fan Jonathan Xavier’s on-court confrontation at the Dunkin’ Donuts Center was captured on national television. What makes the deed so Rhody-worthy is that he was defending the honor of his brother Jeff, a PC point guard who had been struck in the eye by a Marquette player. And what elevates it to Spinal Tap 11 status, giving it that little bit extra Rhodiness, is the fact that he was arrested and held without bail for allegedly breaking the terms of his probation from a 2005 drug conviction. When it comes to stories, the Naked City has nothing over Friar Town.

Wicked Pissah nominees
In a special category for best use of the adjective, “wicked,” we bring you the following quote by cellist Yo-Yo Ma from the Perspectives page in this week’s edition of Newsweek. The cellist was commenting on the decision by event planners to broadcast a recording of classical musicians playing at the Presidential Inauguration, rather than their live performance:

A broken string was not an option. It was wicked cold.

Exiled English

Lake Superior State University recently came out with its 2009 list of banished words and phrases, suggesting several expressions that should be immediately stricken from the popular lexicon. Among them are:

Green (as a substitute for “environmental,” such as “green business,” “going green,” “green solutions,” etc.)
Bailout
First Dude
Maverick
Carbon footprint
Game changer
Staycation
Desperate search
Not so much
Winner of five nominations
It’s that time of year again
Monkey (when used as an adjective)
The Wall Street/Main Street comparison

The university has compiled this list since 1976, but its efforts to exile certain expressions to Tower of Babel oblivion have met with mixed results. Rhode Islanders will note, for example, that the word “awesome” – a common Rhody expression of praise, heightened by adding a “wicked” before it – has appeared twice on the list (1984, 2007) but is still in popular use. (List-makers so far have not cast a disparaging eye at journalism’s favorite measuring-stick phrase, the “size of Rhode Island.”)

A look back reveals certain themes within the overall list. Many, like “first dude” and “maverick,” are prompted by political or presidential campaign fatigue. Past examples include “chad” (2001), “enemy combatant” (2005), “battleground state” (2005), “Blue State/Red State” (2005), “grass roots” (1993), “mandate” (1985) and “spin doctor” (1989.)

Some are annoying pop cultural references. Among them: “bling” or “bling-bling” (2004), “consumer confidence” (1995, the last time we had any), “da bomb” (1998), “dawg” (2006), “designer breed” (2006), “e-anything” (2000), “i-anything” (2007), “mc-anything” (1986), “metrosexual” (2004), “must-see TV” (2003), “perfect storm” (2008), “person of interest” (2006) and “truthiness” (2007).

Some are just bad English: “Capture alive” (2004), “clearly ambiguous” (1994), “close proximity” (1980), “definite possibilities” (1993), “final destination” (2001), “funeralized” (1998), “most complete” (1993), “near miss” (1985), “new innovation” (1990), “same difference” (1987), “totally unique” (2002) and “trained professional” (1993).

In anticipation of the 2010 banished words list: What words or phrases should just go away?

Some possibilities:
Starter wife
Exit strategy
-challenged (as in “height-challenged, weight-challenged, math-challenged”).
Any scandal ending in “-gate”
Any big event ending in “-stock” or “-palooza”
In these economic times (contributed by Rob Clark, occasional Half Shell reader and friend since the days of gym class and “brown-bagging it” at hot lunch).