Token redemption

It sounds like an oxymoron, or maybe we’re giving too much credit to the “oxy” part of the word, but last Friday the R.I. Turnpike and Bridge Authority restored our faith in PR jargon. The agency has this message for all Rhode Islanders or anyone passing through who hasn’t cleaned out his car in awhile:

For questions about token redemption, call 401-423-0800 or visit www.ritba.org.

Turns out RITBA isn’t actually trivializing the release of sin. It is merely informing us that the day is coming when we will no longer be able to trade in a brass coin with the Newport Pell Bridge imprint on it for an 83-cent check from the state. Token holders have until May 15 to get reimbursed for dropping off their bridge coins to the RIBTA customer service center. After that date, all collected tokens will be sold for their scrap metal value. The coins were replaced by the awkwardly-named E-ZPass transponder system last spring. The new transaction eliminates humans and token-catching baskets and the human error of missing the basket while tossing your token on the move. It involves a little white box that you put on your windshield, which sends a signal to the automated tollbooth to lift an orange-colored arm that lets you cross the bridge. (The arms used to be green, until Rhode Islanders kept smashing through them, prompting the color change.) The little white box also counts how many times you pass through a toll and calculates how much to charge your credit card. I’m told certain models of the little white box will even do your taxes.

Not for nothin’: UK edition
Rhode Islanders aren’t the only folks who understand the rhetorical eloquence and sway of a good “not for nothin’” barb. In the “Talking points” section of the March 27 edition of the British magazine The Week, editors made good use of the phrase. The report concerned the suspected corruption of the International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas, which was complicit in allowing the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species to reject a worldwide ban on fishing for Atlantic bluefin tuna, even though stocks have declined to 15 percent of their historic levels. The decision likely served as a death warrant to the entire species, prompting The Week’s editors to write: “Not for nothing has this body been dubbed the ‘International Conspiracy to Catch All Tuna.’” Brilliant, despite the too-proper spelling of “nothing,” which no doubt takes a bit of the oomph out of the gibe for purists of Rhode Islandese.

Eyjafjallajokull
Oops. Had my fingers on the wrong keys and ended up typing an Icelandic volcano.

But come to think of it, the volcanic ash cloud from Iceland has dominated the headlines for a couple of weeks now without a single size of Rhode Island reference. The closest I could find was buried in the comments section of a Huffington Post story. In a thread about natural disasters and global warming, poster Rob the Plumber (no relation to Joe, apparently), had this to say:

Global warming has resulted in acceleration of glacial calving in the northern hemisphere and increased seasonal breakouts of polar bergs. In the south, ice sheets in Antarctica are breaking off, resulting in icebergs the size of Rhode Island.

But of course we already knew that. (See “Floating Rhody,” posted April 5.) Still, the thought of doomsday arriving in the shape of Rhode Island-sized clouds made from volcanic ash traveling the globe on prevailing winds may inspire a little token redemption after all.

At any rate, the volcanic plume has created travel nightmares for millions, which, as we like to say, got us to thinkin’: What is your best worst travel story?

Tarzan Brown Day

This being Marathon Monday in Boston, we thought it might be a good time to reminisce about one of New England’s best long-distance runners, the late Ellison Myers Brown. Widely known as Tarzan Brown, the Charlestown resident and member of the Narragansett tribe was born and raised in poverty on a reservation, worked as a stonemason and a shellfisherman, and became one of the world’s great marathoners in his 20s. Among his accomplishments: Brown was a two-time winner of the Boston Marathon (1936 and 1939), a participant in the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin and in 1939 won 16 consecutive New England road races. (He only lost going for his 17th straight because the winner received a 2-minute, 30-second time handicap advantage. Brown ran faster, but couldn’t make up the time he had to give away. Later that year he won several other races, including the 15-mile New York World’s Fair invitational that mapped a course through the global curiosities decorating Queens. The very next day he raced in Boston at “the Beehive,” the home of the National League Bees – previously known as the Braves – and won a 10-mile celebrity runners Field Day race, giving him 20 outright victories in 22 races to that point that year.)

Fellow runner and Boston Marathon champ (1957) John J. Kelley wrote about Brown in the introduction to Michael Ward’s book, “Ellison ‘Tarzan’ Brown: The Narragansett Indian Who Twice Won the Boston Marathon:”

The legend of Tarzan Brown, like all legends, loomed larger than life. Yet the man who took his nickname from Edgar Rice Burrough’s famous jungle hero would never settle for static stone. He reveled in the pleasures and the pitfalls of the flesh.

A week after he won his first Boston Marathon the R.I. legislature passed a bill designating an annual holiday in his honor. The now defunct Boston Traveler noted it this way in its sports section:

“‘Tarzan Brown Day’ is New R.I. Holiday”

There are those who thought Arlington’s Johnny Kelley was overidolized after his victory in the B.A.A. marathon last year, but the state of Rhode Island has gone completely daffy over its new tercentenary B.A.A. champion, Ellison “Tarzan” Brown, the Narragansett Indian.
They’re treating him to a round of banquets and festivities which has him dizzy and only yesterday the Rhode Island Legislature went to the extreme with a tasty bit of tercentenary publicity. The boys passed a bill which forever establishes a Rhode Island holiday to be known as “Tarzan” Brown Day. They haven’t decided the date yet. They’re leaving that to the fathers of the Narragansett tribe.

Turns out the tribe changed the name of the day, at Tarzan Brown’s request, to “Indian Day in Rhode Island.” A year later Indian Day was signed into law to be held on June 14, with no mention of Tarzan Brown and no reason why it was moved from April. Records are unclear as to when Rhode Islanders stopped celebrating Indian Day, although there is a statute on the books that states:

25-2-4. Narragansett Indian Day.

The last Saturday before the second Sunday in August shall annually be set apart as a day to be known as the “Rhode Island Indian Day of the Narragansett tribe of Indians.” The day is to be observed by the people of this state with appropriate exercises in public places and otherwise commemorative of the Narragansett tribe of Indians.

In 1939, Olympic swimmer Johnny Weissmuller wrote a letter to Tarzan Brown complaining about his nickname. The emerging Hollywood star had recently agreed to play Tarzan in the movies (his first film was “Tarzan the Ape Man”) and threatened legal action against Brown – even though the runner had claimed the nickname since childhood, long before the swimmer discovered the movies.

Brown’s story has a sad end. He was killed in 1975 when a van struck him in a parking lot outside of a Misquamicut bar called The Wreck.

Tarzan Brown’s legacy includes having one of the more descriptive nicknames in Rhode Island history, although his Narragansett tribal name, “Deerfoot,” was perhaps even more apt. Sports figures in Rhody have a long tradition of terrific names – Nap Lajoie, Gabby Hartnett and Rocco Baldelli in baseball; Lyle Wildgoose, the former Providence College hockey player; and boxer Vinnie Pazienza, who also goes by Vinnie Paz and boxed under the nickname, “The Pazmanian Devil.” Even better are some of our mobsters, known colloquially as “The Blind Pig,” “The Moron,” “Fat Bastard” and “Baby Shacks.”

What is your favorite nickname associated with Rhode Island?

Reality check

There must be something in the water. Despite its diminutive size, the Ocean State is crawling with reality TV show contestants. If I had the resources or the inclination, I could probably prove that Rhody ranks first in the category of most reality TV show contestants per capita in the nation. Since I don't, I will instead take the lazy blogger's way out and declare it to be true anyway, citing anonymous sources and anecdotal and circumstantial evidence. (I get it now, Drudge. This is how you roll.) But here's a fact: Sixteen Rhode Islanders competed on reality TV shows this season – 18 if you count two Rhode Island School of Design graduates. And it’s not just that they show up. They last. And they leave an impression.

It all began with the first reality TV mega-hit, “Survivor: Borneo.” The First Survivor, Richard Hatch of Middletown, not only won – he established the blueprint for how every succeeding Survivor would be victorious after him. Hatch parlayed nude, crude, rude and cunning into a winning hand. Since then, he’s pieced together a reality TV resume that has not been as impressive, including an appearance on the Australian version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” in which he became the first person in Oz “Millionaire” history to go home with nothing. As in $0.00.

Hatch deserves some credit for attaining the highest achievement in the state, which we like to call the Rhody Triple Crown (mostly recently won by former Providence Mayor Buddy Cianci):

Minor celebrity. Federal prisoner. Radio talk show host. (In no particular order.)

Since Hatch, more than 50 Rhode Islanders have appeared on reality TV. The most famous nationally is probably Elisabeth Hasselbeck (formerly Filarski) of Cranston. In her Filarski days, she became one of the most popular contestants on “Survivor,” appearing during the “Australian Outback” season, before marrying a professional football player and starring as the flashpoint conservative on “The View.”

This year, two teams of Rhode Islanders are still in the running in “The Amazing Race.” The Barrington brothers Dan and Jordan Pious and narcotics officers Louis D. Stravato of Bristol and Michael Naylor of Warwick, working as detectives for the police departments in Providence and Newport, respectively, are two of the 4 teams remaining in the competition. The detectives, who gave a shout out to “Rhode Island” on a recent episode, have been a standout hit with audiences but of course this wouldn’t be Rhody without a juicy scandal. Last month TMZ reported that Stravato was linked to a cop-operated cocaine ring and has been restricted to desk duty pending an internal investigation.

On Thursday, University of Rhode Island professor Robert Ballard, the Titanic discoverer, will appear on the National Geographic Channel program “Known Universe.” On the show, he says:

By far the most important discovery I’ve ever made was not the Titanic. It was when we discovered this whole new life system on this planet.

Yes, it’s called Rhode Island.

Actually, Ballard is referring to the discovery of life near hydrothermal vents 2.5 miles below the ocean’s surface. Strange, yes. Fascinating, surely. But not nearly as strange and fascinating as reality TV’s Rhode Island obsession. (The same series features Brown professor of geology Peter Schultz demonstrating how the dinosaur-asteroid collision might have occurred.)

Disc jockey “Pauly D,” a.k.a. Paul Delvecchio from Johnston, is a member of the incomprehensively popular “Jersey Shore” cast. Spoofed on “Saturday Night Live,” invited to late night talk shows, the cast is cashing in on what Rhode Islanders have seen and heard for free by going to Scarborough Beach for the last 50 years.

Why so many Rhode Islanders? Well, TV producers generally go for two things: sexy and quirky. With rare exception, Rhode Island doesn’t really do sexy. But we practically invented quirky. Especially when accompanied by a healthy sense of humor. (See “Family Guy.” Farrelly Brothers movies. Don Bousquet cartoons. May breakfasts. Political history. Rhode Island-ese as a Second Language. Quahogs, jonnycakes, littlenecks, cherrystones, soupys, strip pizza, stuffies, weiners and pretty much anything on the menu. Big Blue Bug. Mr. Potato Head. Oscar the Death Cat.)

What would be a good reality TV show based in Rhode Island?

Floating Rhody

A few weeks ago another Rhode Island-sized iceberg snapped off the Antarctic. This time, we have an iceberg the size of Luxembourg to thank.

The iceberg we like to call Luxemberg slammed into an Antarctic glacier known officially as the Mertz Ice Tongue. The collision caused a Rhody-sized bit of ice tongue to splinter off and float away. If you look at the picture provided by NASA, the Mertz Ice Tongue even looks like an upside-down Rhode Island – minus the East and West Passages of Narragansett Bay.

Anyway, this new Rhodyberg is potentially lethal to sea life. Some scientists believe that it could “disrupt the undersea currents that ferry oxygen throughout the oceans,” with the consequence that vast areas of the high seas may not have enough oxygen to support life.

In a case of life imitating art, comments posted to science blogs have resorted to quoting the 2004 movie “The Day After Tomorrow:”

Jack Hall: Our climate is fragile. The ice caps are disappearing at a dangerous rate.

Vice President Becker: Professor, um, Hall, our economy is every bit as fragile as the environment. Perhaps you should keep that in mind before making sensational claims.

Jack Hall: Well, the last chunk of ice that broke off was about the size of Rhode Island. Some people might call that pretty sensational.

Now that we have killer icebergs the size of Rhode Island roaming the seven seas, it’s only a matter of time before astronomers start charting Rhody-sized killer asteroids to rain on the Earth. But enough of this doom and gloom. Here are 10 reasons why frozen, floating Rhode Islands are good for the world.

10. Quonset huts can be easily modified into igloos.
9. Cans of ‘Gansett never go warm.
8. Hockey moms won’t lose sleep commuting to pre-dawn rink rentals.
7. Rhode Island-sized tongue should win most arguments.
6. Unlimited supply of Del’s.
5. Rhode Islanders won’t have to go anywhere. The iceberg will travel for them.
4. Can convert Thurbers Ave Curve into Thurbers Ave Luge.
3. More elbow room for polar bears at Roger Williams Park Zoo.
2. State might finally start developing some winter Olympians.
1. No longer have to share a boundary with Connecticut.

Have you heard a good “size of Rhode Island” reference lately?

Rhody Universe: Fear the Chicken

News that a Rhode Island Red rooster and his harem henpecked a fox to death is making the rounds in England. The Week magazine reports:

When a fox targeted a hencoop in Essex, the cockerel, Dude, didn’t take the slaughter lying down. Instead, it seems he led his ladies into battle against the predator – and won. Owner Michelle Cordell found the fox lying dead in the coop when she went to collect the eggs last Saturday morning. She reckons the Rhode Island Reds kicked over their table, knocked the fox out, then pecked it to death. “It’s like ‘Revenge of the Chickens,’” she said.

None of this comes as a surprise to Rhode Islanders, who have long extolled the Red’s hardiness and tenacity, but the tendency in these parts is to understate, so there’s no 100-foot chicken statue within the boundaries of Little Rhody to honor what may be the world’s best-known poultry breed. (My father grew up in South Africa raising Rhode Island Reds long before he ever knew a place like Rhode Island existed – or that he would end up living most of his life here.) Instead, just a small stone marker designates the village of Adamsville as the birthplace of the R.I. Red, signifying the spot where a Rhode Island farmer purportedly cross bred a domestic hen with a red Malay rooster in the 19th century.

Officially the state bird of Rhode Island, the R.I. Red used to be Rhody’s representative totem animal until the quahog walloped the chicken in a popularity contest. There is a Rhode Island Reds Heritage Society in Rhode Island but it’s devoted to a beloved although defunct hockey team. Three Rhode Island Red Clubs exist worldwide, one celebrating the local chicken in Devon, England. Meanwhile, the Rhode Island Red Club of America, originated in December 1898 “on a cold blizzard of a day in a Coffee Tavern in Fall River, Mass.,” now lists Arizona as its mailing address. There is also a separate Scottish R.I. Red Club, presumably because the Scots prefer not to share anything with the English if they can help it.

The bird’s legacy lives on in its global popularity as a dual-purpose chicken (high marks for meat and eggs). Known for producing between 200 and 300 eggs during a 12-month laying period, R.I. Reds can begin laying eggs as early as 6 months. Despite their attributes, the Red is in danger of vanishing as a heritage breed, which is one of the reasons that the South County Museum in Narragansett maintains a heritage flock. They lay about 35 eggs a day, donated to local organizations. And around every Fourth of July, the museum hosts the feathery fireworks of 100 or so baby chicks popping out of their brown shells.

The friendly fowl were also accomplices in an anonymous prank a couple of years back in Pennsylvania, when a Philadelphia school was closed after 85 Rhode Island Reds were discovered milling about its corridors.

What is the strangest animal behavior or encounter you’ve experienced in Rhode Island?

Rhody Beast

Tina Brown’s latest media venture Daily Beast is all about buzz. Her Web site and its bloggers delve into politics, art, media, celebrity, fashion, style, food, glamour and the like in sections called “Sexy Beast,” “Book Beast,” “Art Beast,” “Hungry Beast” and “Giving Beast.” Rhode Island has certainly received its fair share of press at the site, but here at Half Shell we think we’re worthy of our own Beast.

The legacy of Little Rhody as a haven for rumrunners, rabble-rousers and revolutionaries, pirates and politicos, mobsters and lobsters, treasure-hunters and seedy characters out of bad noir novels is well earned. But that’s yesterday’s pewter. Rhody Beast will bring you what’s currently occupying the Ocean State of mind.

In politics: Rocky Point may be dead and gone, but Rep. Patrick Kennedy has been spinning his own personal Tilt-a-Whirl with the press in Rhode Island over the past few months. First, there was his very public feud with Bishop Tobin, which generated months of letters to the editor at the ProJo and enough hot air on local talk radio to fill the skies at the Albuquerque Balloon Festival for the next decade. Then, there was his surprise resignation. Then, his wild-eyed, gut-wrenching rant in front of an empty House chamber about the press being more interested in Daily Beast-type gossipy news than covering the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

In the oxymoron that we like to call celebrity news: As I type these words, Dana Delany (of “China Beach,” “Tombstone” and “Desperate Housewives” fame) is dodging the puddles and potholes of a Rhode Island March with Jeri Ryan (of “Star Trek: Voyager,” “Boston Public” and “Leverage” notoriety) in a new shot-in-Providence ABC pilot, “Body of Evidence.” This being March, most Rhode Islanders would prefer to see the first branch of yellowing forsythia or the osprey return to their nests than a Hollywood star taking up what little parking remains on Providence streets. That’s not to say that we don’t have our own glitterati in Little Rhody (rhodyrati?). We’re happy to run into Tim Daly at Benny’s or Richard Jenkins at Whole Foods. It’s just that we no longer trust the legions from Tinseltown ever since we got Shatnered last fall. Oh, and Oscar winner Nicolas Cage still owes $128,000 in unpaid taxes on a Middletown mansion he bought a couple of years ago. Maybe in the next “National Treasure” movie his character can look for a bobble or two to pay off his Rhody debt.

In culture: The Daily Beast makes a daily habit of reporting on Sarah Palin, and now, thanks to the set-in-Rhode-Island cartoon sitcom “Family Guy,” Rhody Beast can jump on the Palin bandwagon. Created by Rhode Island School of Design grad Seth MacFarlane, “Family Guy” has become the gold standard of bad taste in American culture. But it’s filled with Rhody references and language that every Rhode Islander hears everyday. The classic episode when Brian goes on a campaign to legalize marijuana presciently satirized the state’s own efforts, which have made national headlines. (The power of “Family Guy” on the 40-and-younger generation in Rhode Island cannot be overstated. At a wedding I attended last year in Bristol, one guest described the perfect Rhode Island night as getting “drunk, stoned and a four-hour block of ‘Family Guy.’”)

In true crime: OK, so our mobsters’ heyday may be waning. In the past few months, we’ve had a front-page story in the ProJo on a 300-pound bronze statue of peace that was stolen from a sculpture garden at Tiverton Four Corners. (It was later discovered that two Fall River, Mass. men had cleaved it in twain and planned to sell it for scrap metal.) There was also the case of the 92-year-old woman who made a quilt for a library fund-raiser, only to have it stolen off the wall. Two young women wearing baseball caps and sunglasses robbed a bank in Barrington, only the glasses were wrapped around their caps and their faces were captured on camera, prompting a local TV reporter to say: “It’s common for bank robbers to wear sunglasses, but usually not as a fashion accessory.” And, just a couple of weeks ago, a bicyclist robbed a bank in Wakefield, but he was caught with the money and the note he wrote while pedaling away. The days when Providence was home to the New England mob, with guys named “Bobo” and “Buckles” roaming the streets with baseball bats, are long gone. But the stories never get old. (One legend: Supposedly the reason why there’s a grassy area next to the beach at Scarborough in Narragansett is that it was once a popular gangster’s hangout and the mobster’s wives didn’t want to have to deal with the sand.)

Do you have a news nugget to feed to Rhody Beast?

Name Dropping

Narragansett Councilman Christopher Wilkens recently inquired for the record whether naming rights could be sought for a new North Pavilion planned for the town beach. Expect more of the same as towns get desperate for cash after discovering that there aren’t any more pennies left in the taxpayer’s piggy banks. So why not sell off the sidewalks, the parking lots and the manhole covers to the highest bidder? By the next decade we’ll all be walking advertisements. (Some advice from my financial guru: The thighbone may be connected to the hipbone, but you’ll make more from the naming rights if you sell them separately.)

The council tabled the suggestion for another time, but the Pier’s willingness to consider going all NASCAR on us is a sign of the times. Maybe the town can entice the Narragansett Brewing Co. to sponsor the new pavilion. Not a bad idea if they’re willing to install taps. The Pier Imports Pavilion also has a certain ring, although my memories of that store are strangely dominated by a profusion of wicker.

Colleague Liz Boardman freelances as a naming rights columnist for Venues Today magazine. She passed along a couple of items recently:

Item 1: In January, the Irving City Council in Texas designated Kraft Macaroni & Cheese as the official sponsor for the demolition of Texas Stadium. Kraft foods got the naming rights for the implosion while the city received $75,000 in cold cash along with another $75,000 worth of Kraft products to be donated to local charities. That’s $150,000 in value for slapping the Kraft name onto the act of blowing up a football field. (Colleague Laura Kelly points out that the logo on the box of Kraft’s mac ’n’ cheese reads “The Cheesiest,” which seems a suitable epitaph for the whole idea of naming rights.)

Which begs the question, where was this kind of thinking in Rhode Island when we detonated the old Jamestown Bridge? Surely the Jiffy Pop Popcorn Pop-in-a-Pan/Jamestown Bridge Photo-Op-Drop Pop-in-a-Span could have netted a few Benjamins for the state’s barren coffers.

Item 2: Also in January, Comfort Dental, America’s largest dental franchise, won the rights for the next three years to change the name of the Fiddler’s Green Amphitheatre in Denver to the Comfort Dental Amphitheatre. (Aside from Liz: “When do you suppose they’ll put on ‘Little Shop of Horrors?’”)

Of course, there is something unseemly about equating urban demolition with over-microwaving processed comfort food. And while Fiddler’s Green Amphitheatre conjures up images of Irish musicians and Greek choruses, the best that can be said for Comfort Dental is that it promises a brighter, whiter stage and entertainment that is minty-fresh and cavity-free.

Closer to home, Great Woods lost some of its Thoreauvian New England soul once it became Tweeter (and now Comcast) Center. The Dunkin’ Donuts Center sounds more like a halfway house for people addicted to munchkins and crullers than a venue for concerts, minor league hockey and college basketball.

Still, if businesses are willing to shell out the dough and reduce the burden on taxpayers, why not put up all the state’s properties, holidays and administrative functions up for naming auction? Companies wouldn’t even have to change slogans.

Obey your thirst. (Formerly the Scituate Reservoir. Now the Sprite Reservoir.)
You’re in good hands. (Formerly the R.I. State House. Now the Allstate Insurance State House.)
So easy a caveman can do it.(The Governor’s State of the State address, now sponsored by GEICO.)

What Rhode Island institution should be re-branded if the price is right?