Uglification still in progress

Goethe called architecture “frozen music.” Extending the metaphor, Rhode Island over the centuries has composed a fairly impressive unfinished symphony. From the stone-enders in rural areas to Colonial box houses in towns and cities, white clapboard churches to rambling stone mills, the state is blessed with buildings that find a balance between aesthetic and function. As elsewhere, long years of poverty may have helped the landscape, requiring residents to be creative about preservation when development dollars were lacking. So the East Side of Providence, the villages of Wickford and Kingston, the granite-quarried streets of Westerly, the modest shingle shacks along the coast and the tidy skyline of the state’s capital city are among the cluster of unparalleled architectural scenes that Rhode Islanders enjoy daily. As Ted Sanderson, executive director of the R.I. Historical Preservation and Heritage Commission, said to me earlier this spring: “In some states, they put a velvet rope around a building and invite people to walk around it on special occasions. Here in Rhode Island, people live, work, shop and worship in historic places every day.”

Even allowing for the state’s love of kitsch – which explains the fondness for the Quonset hut, another local invention – Rhode Island has survived the Houstonification of modern life through its passion for preservation and by building with an eye on its surroundings. Until recently, that is, when a combination of suburban sprawl and money-grab development has produced some stunningly bad architecture. New eyesores seemingly pop up like poisonous mushrooms nowadays.

I’ve mentioned some of them before in my annual Broken Anchors Awards, a column devoted to dubious achievements in Rhode Island (Jan. 10, 2008):

THE UGLIFICATION IN PROGRESS AWARD
To developers and politicians in our capital city, where the river walk has jumped the shark from a place of cobblestone and cozy bridges to a showcase for boxy buildings on steroids. Where once there were views, now huge rectangles blot out the State House and surrounding church steeples, casting cold shadows and creating wind tunnels in winter. From the Ice Cube (GTECH World Headquarters), with its neon blue scar illuminating the night sky to Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber, the twin Waterplace Towers painted in the color of bad squash, Providence is transforming into North Dallas before our eyes.

Another building that causes a wince is the former Kaiser Aluminum tower that has been converted into penthouses for the Carnegie Abbey Club in Portsmouth. Any joy experienced while driving over the elegant Mount Hope Bridge, taking in the expanse of blue-water, white-sail Narragansett Bay and emerald-green Aquidneck Island below, is quickly muted by noticing the colossal jutting tower, so out of place in its delicate surroundings. I call it the Blight on the Bay, or Old Blightie, when I’m in a Ye Olde Rhode Islander mood. Something that ugly is usually found among the pelicans and palm trees on the Florida coast.

What is the ugliest building in Rhode Island?

Rhody at random

Rhode Island revels in a certain amount of national irrelevance but strangely the nation keeps tabs on us regardless. Of all the states that don’t really matter, only Alaska grabs more headlines – and that’s only because a certain former polar-lovin’, drill-baby-drillin’ governor seems to be taking the diva express on her own personal Bridge to Nowhere. And we thought Buddy was embarrassing.

Still, Rhody gets more than its share of ink. In the past couple of months, we’ve been Daily Beasted, Huffington Posted, Fox Newsed and New York Timesed for a grab-bag of stories ranging from the decision to become the first East Coast state to license medical marijuana shops to considering a proposal to legally shorten the state’s name. We’ve been Buzzed, Cheat-Sheeted and Op-Edded, with banter around the national bubbler disparaging the virtue of both Miss Rhode Island and the Amazon tax.

Heady stuff for a state that really just wants to be left alone to gorge on a few doughboys and veg out to “Family Guy” reruns.

This week’s question: What is the most important Rhode Island story to go national this year?

In other news
A great white shark recently was pulled from a fish trap in Narragansett, causing a bit of a stir. Even in saltwater-savvy Rhode Island it seems, people sometimes need to be reminded that, yes, the ocean is where sharks live. It’s not all sea stars and sand dollars out there.

Better late than never department
The Fox foot soldiers comprising the R.I. Tea Party grabbed a few headlines by getting kicked out of the oldest, continuous Fourth of July Parade in the country, a.k.a. the Bristol Stomp. Their offense? Handing out copies of the U.S. Constitution. Sounds harmless, except that organizers prohibit handing out anything at the parade, primarily for safety reasons. Not only do all organizations know this, they are required to sign a form promising not to do it. So while distributing copies of the First Rules of America, the Tea Partyers conveniently and intentionally ignored the rules of the parade, hoping for a media firestorm in the aftermath. Some day they should try reading their own Constitution. Really. Reading is fundamental, although perhaps not fundamentalist.

Earlier this year, a Brown University senior interviewed the children of parents who attended the Tax Day Tea Party in Providence for The Huffington Post. Judging by the quotes, nothing says liberty quite like brainwashing your kids:

Aviva, 11 and Isabelle, 8

Q: What brings you out here today?
Aviva: The big stimulus.

Q: How do you feel about the stimulus?
Aviva: It’s not making me happy.
Isabelle: Obama is not making me happy.

Emily, 8 and Samuel, 10

Q: Why are you here?
(Silence.)
Mother: To oppose Obama’s trillion dollar budget. To cut the pork.
Samuel: For the pork.
Q: How do you feel about pork spending?
Samuel: I like pork.
Mother: No you don’t. We don’t like excess spending.
Samuel: I do. I like pork.

Victoria, “10th-grader,” holding sign that reads “How Do You Like the Change So Far?”

Q: What kind of change would you like to see?
Victoria: I like change in general.

Q: What’s wrong with change so far?
Victoria: I didn’t make this sign. My friend did.

Q: Why are you holding it?
Victoria: The blue, see? (Holds it to her shirt.)

Q: Oh. It’s the same color.
Victoria: I’m gonna go protest now.

Name game, blame game

Next year Rhode Islanders may get a chance to vote on truncating the name of our state. The state legislature has approved a proposal to allow a ballot referendum to change the state’s official name from “State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations” to “State of Rhode Island.” Proponents of the name change say the word “plantations” conjures up the state’s slave-holding and slave-trading history and is offensive to Rhode Island’s African American community. Opponents say that in the 17th century the word simply meant “colony” or “new settlement” and evolved to mean a place where people grew crops. They argue that changing the name dishonors the legacy of Roger Williams, who conceived of a place he called Providence as a “lively experiment," where people of all creeds could practice “soul-liberty” as they saw fit.

So what we have here is failure to communicate. In other words, a battle over semantics and symbolism. The irony is that after more than 200 years of whitewashing its history, Rhode Island’s recent track record on exposing its role in propagating the culture of slavery in America has been commendable – and likely led to the effort to de-Plantation itself.

Rhode Islanders should know more about their state's heritage of slavery. (In fact, I would argue that Rhode Island history should be an expanded and more in-depth part of the curricula throughout the state public school system.) I’m also for developing resources, creating programs in the arts and humanities and building memorials to keep the knowledge of our slave history alive as a cautionary tale. Slavery and the extermination and forced exile of the indigenous population of this country are America’s dual Original Sins.

And yet…getting rid of the word “plantations” seems to me to be the wrong message. Partly because proponents of the referendum are defining the word as something that it isn’t. Partly because the 1663 charter granted from Charles II that made the name official in the first place is so historic – its echoes would one day find eloquence as the First Amendment in the U.S. Constitution – that it feels like taking a red pen to a sacred text. And partly because there’s just something so Rhode Island about being the smallest state with the longest name.

So here’s the thing: Don’t shorten the name. If you have to tinker, then lengthen it. How about: The State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations Which Means Colony or New Settlement and is a Place to Grow Crops and Yet There Are Those Who Associate it with Slavery So Let’s Educate and Illuminate and Teach and Learn and Keep the Knowledge Coming People?

Too long? Then maybe I’ll be forced to go the Prince route. All I know is, if the referendum passes, I’ll be calling this The State Formerly Known As the State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations. Until I get tired of writing all that and start using a symbol of an anchor in its place.

What are your feelings on the proposed ballot referendum that would shorten the name of the State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations to the State of Rhode Island?

Noise and Light

There are three great Fourth of July Parades in Rhode Island: The one in Bristol is the longest, continuous Independence Day parade in the country. It welcomes marching bands, floats, military companies, fife and drum corps and the odd celebrity from throughout the U.S. to walk down a red, white and blue striped median in front of hung-over Rhode Islanders, many of whom staked their roadside claims in beach towels and lawn chairs before dawn. The Ancients and Horribles Parade in Glocester is even wilder, a free-for-all of camp, kitsch, expressions of the politically incorrect and spoofs of whatever the big “bubbler” topics of the year were. (Expect a heavy dose of Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett and Depression-era themes this year.) Equally festive, cleverly costumed, and even more distinctive is the Snug Harbor Parade, a 10-minute walk (tops) on and around Gooseberry Road. Its motto: “Wear a costume. Bring an instrument. See you on the Fourth.”

Those Rhode Islanders who don’t go to a parade will be at a beach, with everyone ending up eventually at a grill in somebody’s backyard. Another Rhody ritual is crossing the border to buy fireworks. They’re illegal here (even lighting a sparkler is a crime), but the police wisely opt for a don’t flaunt it and you can get away with blowing things up for a week or so attitude. Booms, bangs and streaks in the sky began last weekend in the cove where I live. If tradition holds, the nightly noisemakers will continue through the week, growing in intensity, before finally dying out sometime in mid-July. Nothing says summer in Rhode Island like driving from one end of the state to the other – approximately 40 minutes – and ending up just off the Interstate in North Stonington, Conn., at an abandoned gas station taken over by Phantom Fireworks, then loading up the car with Rolling Thunder, Barbarian Blasts, Roman Candles, Orange Bombshells, Silver Crackling Palms and Smoke Balls.

But for me, enjoying Independence Day is mostly the magic of simply hanging out on the cove with family and friends, watching bonfires dot the bay and fireworks displays pop up like humpbacks in a feeding frenzy. Night after night, from July 3rd through the 5th (and sometimes longer), there is no better way to spend an evening than lingering over the water, gazing at the glittering waves and the brilliant orange beachside blazes, glancing at the stars and glimpsing distant bursts of fireworks set off by towns, yacht clubs and private beach clubs. Life as it should be. Or at least life the way it looks in a beer commercial, which is pretty much the same thing.

What is your favorite or most unusual Fourth of July memory?

Word Up

Word is that there are now 1 million words in the English language. With the breathless hype of an e-mail scam or shopping gimmick, the Global Language Monitor announced recently that “Web 2.0” is the 1-millionth word to appear in English. GLM, which uses a math formula to track the frequency of words and phrases in print and electronic media, reported that “Web 2.0” appeared more than 25,000 times in searches and was widely accepted, giving it legitimacy as the millionth word. The word counters calculated that 14.7 new English words or phrases are generated daily.

Many linguists remain unimpressed. Count Half Shell among them. Any words that include numbers are suspect, better left to algebra and chemistry than English. And once the glow of the millionth word wears off, how long before GLM gives up counting words in English and just goes with the slogan, “Billions and billions coined?”

Word of the Year
You know how actors seem to have about a katrillion awards to prop up their egos every year – from Tonys to Emmys to Oscars to Golden Globes to People’s Choice to Spirit Awards? It’s the same with words. Merriam Webster has a Word of the Year. So does the aforementioned GLM, and newworldword.com, to name a few.

But the granddaddy of all word-of-the-year votes is cast by the American Dialect Society, which is the longest running contest and the only one not tied to some commercial entity. So we’ll go with the 119-year-old institution made up of linguists, lexicographers, etymologists, grammarians, historians, researchers, writers, authors, editors, professors, university students and independent scholars. Their choice for the 2008 Word of the Year? “Bailout.”

Other category winners included:

Most Creative: “Recombobulation area,” describing a place at Mitchell International Airport in Milwaukee where passengers that have just passed through security screening can get their clothes and belongings back in order.

Most Unnecessary: “Moofing,” derived from “mobile out of office,” a PR word that means working on the go with a laptop and cell phone.

Most Euphemistic: “Scooping technician,” describing a person whose job it is to pick up dog poop.

Most Likely to Succeed: “Shovel-ready,” describing infrastructure projects that can be started quickly when funds become available.

One of the things you notice with many previous words of the year is how quickly they become obsolete. That said, my favorite ADS-approved Word of the Year so far this millennium was chosen in 2006: “To be plutoed” or “to pluto,” meaning to be demoted or devalued.

Here at Half Shell, we’re pushing for “Rhody-sized,” describing any object or entity measured in “size of Rhode Island” units (with or without bay), to be the 2009 Word of the Year. If you’re a wildfire, an asteroid, an iceberg, an oil spill or an Australian sheep farm, chances are you’ve already been Rhody-sized.

What is your choice for 2009 Word of the Year?

Reading New England

The Boston Globe, the flagship newspaper of New England, is bailing water like most municipal dailies these days – in part because the Land of the Bean and the Cod means nothing to the beancounters and codswallop accountants at The New York Times. But that hasn’t stopped the Globe’s writers and editors from giving us a good read. Posted yesterday on boston.com was a list of the 100 essential New England books. Not all of the works are set in New England; some are stories set elsewhere but written by natives or people who came to the region to study or work. Like all good lists, there’s plenty to argue about. A white whale takes the top spot (Herman Melville’s “Moby-Dick”) on the list, which makes way for ducklings (of Robert McCloskey fame) at No. 3, before concluding with a gorging caterpillar (Eric Carle’s “The Very Hungry Caterpillar”) at 100.

Rhode Island’s contributions are somewhat minimal. The Ocean State first appears at 14 in Edith Wharton’s “Ethan Frome,” the story about a poor New England farmer and a love triangle that develops, mentioned because Wharton spent much of her childhood in Newport. At 23 is “Breath, Eyes, Memory,” by Edwidge Danticat, a coming-of-age story about a woman who moves from Haiti to New York by an author who went to Brown.

The first truly Rhode Island tome comes in at 30 – Mike Stanton’s biography of former Providence Mayor and federal prisoner (now a Rhody radio blowhard) Buddy Cianci, “The Prince of Providence.” King Philip’s War is at the crux of Nantucket author Nathaniel Philbrick’s “Mayflower,” ranking 36, which explodes the myth of America’s origin story as a place where friendly American Indians and Colonists enjoyed being neighbors. At 40, Kingston’s own Jhumpa Lahiri earns a nod for “Unaccustomed Earth,” the short-story collection Globies chose to represent her impressive oeuvre. Providence-born Edwin O’Connor makes the list at 51 for “The Last Hurrah,” a look at old-style New England politics that made a legend out of Boston Mayor James Curley (who served in office while in prison). At 62, famed Providence horrormeister H.P. Lovecraft is noted for the best of his short stories, “The Call of Cthulhu.”

Of course there will be quibbles. John Updike, who lived in and wrote about Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, makes the grade (at 60) with “Couples.” Even though “The Witches of Eastwick,” about three middle-aged women in an R.I. community loosely based on the town of East Greenwich and the village of Wickford, was by far the more popular book.

Nathaniel Hawthorne gets props (at 19) for “The Scarlet Letter,” although no list of top New England books would be complete without his “The House of Seven Gables” or collections of sketches and short stories. Just as Lahiri’s short-story collection, “Interpreter of Maladies,” and novel, “The Namesake,” are also deserving. But you can understand why the editors stuck by the one book per author rule.

From a Rhody-centric perspective, it’s surprising that John Casey’s South County-based “Spartina” didn’t make the cut. Nor anything by David Macauley (“Mill,” “Castle,” “The Way Things Work”) or Chris Van Allsburg (“The Polar Express,” “The Widow’s Broom”).

What is your favorite story set in Rhode Island (or written by a Rhode Islander)?

Food for the Rhode

Had a conversation with a woman behind the counter at a Dunkin’ Donuts last week. It started with a question on how many bites you’re supposed to take to chew your food. She thought it was 36. I said I thought 30 was ballpark, and I’m a slow eater, but I don’t count my bites. She said she pretty much takes two bites and swallows. I said that sounds dangerous. She then said she does all of her eating while driving. As it happened, I was about to order a road lunch myself (sausage, egg and cheese on an everything bagel), after deciding that the line at the Italian bakery next door was too long to wait, even though I was in the mood for three strip pizza middles.
“Those are hard to eat while driving,” she said.
I agreed. The olive oil and tomato sauce make it difficult to keep the strips from slipping off the wax paper.
“You should’ve seen me back when I drove a stick,” I said.
“I eat a bowl of cereal while driving to work every morning,” she said.
I wondered how that was humanly possible.
“I keep the bowl in my lap and scoop it wicked fast at stop lights,” she said.
“I’ve seen people shaving while driving,” I said.
“I keep all of my makeup in the front seat,” she said. “Once I’ve eaten the cereal, I put on the makeup.”
“What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever tried to eat while driving,” I asked.
“Jell-O,” she said without hesitation. “It’s almost impossible to keep it on the spoon and not get into an accident. Ice cream is a close second.”
“Cone or cup,” I asked.
“Either,” she said. “But usually I go cone.”
I gave her my own list of foods that have a high degree of difficulty in the category of eating while driving: Meatball grinders, Italian grinders, pretty much anything with sauce, oil, condiments or lots of parts.
“At least mine don’t require cutlery,” I said.
“An extra set of clothes in the car is key,” she said. “That’s a mistake you only make once.”

State lawmakers are considering a bill to prevent Rhode Islanders from using their cell phones while driving, which seems a sensible thing, since the talking or texting take priority, turning driving into a secondary activity. But perhaps the bill should be expanded to include grooming and dining as well. I’m not proud of my eat-on-the-road habits, but judging by the mass gorging on the daily commute, I’m not alone out there.

What foods have you tried to eat while driving?

Slice of life
A new GQ magazine article ranks Bob & Timmy’s Grilled Pizza in Providence fifth among “The 25 Best Pizzas You’ll Ever Eat.” National food writer Alan Richman chose their wood-grilled Spinach and Mushroom Pizza for gastronomic glory, while noting that Providence, the city that invented the grilled pizza, is one of the top pizza towns in North America. (He ranks Providence fifth, just behind New York, San Francisco, Detroit and Chicago, and before Los Angeles, New Haven, Philadelphia, Phoenix and Boston.)