I was listening to one of those endless radio talk shows the other day while riding the University shuttle. The topic was: Is Rhode Island a good place to live? “Of course it is,” one of the participants said. “It’s great. I’m glad I live here. I mean, my god, the beaches are great!”
“That’s it?” another participant said.
“Well,” the first participant said, “there’s a lot of culture here, and music, and – um – beaches –“
“You know,” Participant Number Two said, “I’ve been hearing that for years. Culture? Probably you want Boston or New York. Music, probably LA or Seattle or New York. Beaches? You know, I would have said Hawaii.”
“But still!” Number One said. “It’s great for so many reasons!”
“Like the beaches?” said Number Two in a bored voice.
And on like that for some time.
I didn’t know what to think when I first moved to Rhode Island. I remember walking downtown on a cloudy weekend in early September 1978, and frankly the place looked like WWII Dresden: bombed-out and dismal. There were (and are) bright cheerful bits of architecture, and lovely bits of history, but much of the city is urban/gray/utilitarian.
There have been (many) ups and downs since then. Downtown (we call it “Downcity”) keeps getting “revived,” and then gets “revived” again. We are between revivals right now. There are a few positive signs: the Arcade, one of the oldest and most historic buildings downtown, is getting another facelift. (This is its third facelift in thirty years. Maybe this one will do the trick.)
I’ve said it before: Providence (and, by extension, all of Rhode Island) is a big ugly dog. You love it even though it slobbers all over you. In fact, you love it because it slobbers all over you.
Also, there are those beaches.
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