(UN)RELIABLE SOURCES: 052

THE SCRAPPING OF NORTH PROVIDENCE

by FRANK O'DONNELL
February 24, 2008

Charlie Lombardi is a genius.
 
At least, he’s smarter than me.

I’ve driven past the Rizzo Ford site hundreds of times since its sudden closing.

All I ever saw was a set of abandoned buildings and an eerily empty parking lot.

Not Charlie Lombardi.

He was cruising along Mineral Spring Avenue when he spotted the heating and air conditioning units on the top of the buildings.

The proverbial light bulb went off.

Published accounts report that he pointed the units out to his chief of staff. “Hey, look at that, why can’t we get them?”

Why. Can’t. We. Get. Them.

Five simple words that could easily change the course of North Providence.

That pile of trash at the end of your driveway isn’t really a pile of trash until the town decides that it has no possible municipal use.

Before the Rizzo complex could be reduced to a pile of rubble, the Lombardi Crew stripped it clean. HVAC units. Fire-alarm systems. Drop ceilings. Wall partitions. An extension ladder. Everything would have ended up in a dumpster and been hauled away to a landfill somewhere.

Instead, it all lives another day, pressed into service in a variety of municipal venues, like the Public Works Garage, some of our schools, and the new Public Safety Annex.

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

Might I humbly suggest that the town take this program to the next level?

Of course, we’ll need to hire someone to manage WCWGT. Someone to cruise the town on a regular basis, scouring the trash at our curbs and identifying those items that still have some use.

Think about this. Your refrigerator is acting up. You’ve had enough, so you go buy a new one, and put the old one out to the curb. But an expert can easily see that a simple $12 repair is all that’s needed to resurrect this fridge it and put it to use in one of our school cafeterias.

We need a Minister of Acquisitions. And I’d like to nominate my buddy Bob for the job.

Bob is an expert. He’s legendary for spotting things on the side of the road that he can use or fix, and grabbing them. He calls it “perfectly good stuff.”

Now he’s got a shed and garage full of “perfectly good stuff” that hasn’t been used or fixed up yet.

But that’s not his fault. He doesn’t have a crew.

His acquisitions are flawless. His resurrections, not so much.

Give him a crew, though, and the WCWGT circle is complete.

Before you know it, we’ll cut the cost of municipal acquisitions in half.

There’s a restaurant on Waterman Avenue shutting down. Right now, their equipment is for sale. But you know that not everything will sell. And our new Minister of Acquisitions gets first dibs on the leftovers.

How about a bar and bar stools in the Tax Collector’s office instead of an impersonal counter? Wouldn’t that take some of the sting out of your municipal obligations?

A keg system would be nice too, but that’s probably impractical.

My buddies at Magic Gas are trying to unload an underground gasoline storage tank. If they’re unsuccessful, perhaps the town can snap it up, clean it out and cut it up into some totally radical half-pipes for the skateboard park.

The possibilities are endless.

Oh, and by the way, before the Rizzo complex buildings are completely demolished, someone needs to grab the giant sign lettering.

Save two R’s and a set of Z’s. Amputate the slanted leg of the R’s, and flip the Z’s 90 degrees. And voila, we’ve got a pair of neon NP’s to mount on the clock tower at Town Hall.

Waste not, want not, I used to say.

Now, I’m towing the town line: why can’t we get that?

***

Got some fun stories to share about the snow in North Providence? Then grab some bread and milk and share them! The stories, that is. No one expects you to share the bread and milk. Send the stories to frankocomedy@cox.net, and tell me you want to join the North Providence Gang while you’re at it.