Providence is one of our favorite American cities. Some people might scoff that it’s a suburb of Boston (and in fact that the entire state of Rhode Island is), but it has plenty to hold its own against the much larger metropolises. With a population just under 200,000 this state capital is small enough to offer the village vibe, and yet cosmopolitan enough to offer just about anything you’d expect from a major city. It’s rich in history and the arts, as well as dining establishments — reportedly boasting the highest per capita totals of both restaurants and coffee shops in the nation. And as the home of Brown University of Ivy League fame, as well as the Rhode Island School Of Design, it’s a major intellectual hub as well. Oh, and best of all as far as we are concerned, it’s the home of our son Zephyr. So we get to visit him at the same time we’re exploring a fabulous town.

It’s fun spending time with Zephyr and his girlfriend Koree. But this particular visit to Providence is especially well timed because it enables us to do some things that we wouldn’t be able to do just any old time.

One of them is to meet up with our friend Carol and her dad Caster, who is one of the most amazing people we know. He’s a proud veteran. Not of The Gulf. Not of Vietnam. Not of Korea. Of frigging World War II. He’s now passed the century mark with flying colors, and is still rather nimble and independent, engaging in many of the activities that some people 30 years younger don’t do. We want to be like him when we grow up.

Our visit also happens to coincide with a rally at the Capitol against the kakistocracy in Washington, and we’re pleased and proud to be be able to attend and lend our voices to the opposition against fascism. It’s a tremendous turnout, about twice as many as expected from what we gather. What’s disappointing, however, is that they’re mostly folks who are in our general age bracket.

Not to sound like old fogeys or anything, but back in our day, it was the college kids who led the charge against authoritarianism and government malfeasance. But on this day, they are scarce as hen’s teeth. Surely they’re not ignorant of history or oblivious to recent events — especially given that we’re spitting distance from a major university. Are they under the impression that protesting just doesn’t do any good? (Narrator: It does. Verifiably.) Are they just too busy surviving in a struggling economy? We’d like to think that the latter, disturbing as it is, is the explanation. [Later during our American vacation, we’d encounter another No Kings protest with a considerably larger youth contingent.]

In any case, those who do show have a rousing, inspiring time of it. We march a circuit of about a mile, from the Capitol downtown and back to the Capitol. There are lots of great signs, but perhaps our favorite just says, “You are not allowed to give up.”

At one point we pass what has been dubbed the Superman Building, because it looks as if it might have been the model for the Daily Planet headquarters in the old Superman TV series. (It wasn’t.) Officially called the Industrial Trust Building, this august Art Deco skyscraper crowned with a beacon on top opened in 1928 and became vacant in 2013. It remains vacant still; and preservationists have valiantly fought to save it from the wrecking ball. It’s an altogether fitting monument to serve as a backdrop for today’s crusade for the preservation of Truth, Justice, and The American Way.

Another bit of fortuitous timing during our brief stay in Providence is that we are able to catch not one but two performances by RKO Army, the shadowcast troupe that Zephyr and Koree are part of. Wait, wait. Shadowcasting??? What on earth is that? Glad you asked. A shadowcast troupe mimics the action in a movie being shown on the screen behind them. To make it more fun, these are campy, low-budget grade Z movies that just cry out to be lampooned. The performers dress in costumes like the characters they are portraying, and sometimes there is gender switching to make it even more fun.

It began with The Rocky Horror Picture Show, a cheesy musical with a horror/ sci-fi plot, starring Tim Curry and a young Susan Sarandon, that premiered in 1975 and bombed at the box office. But the following year, it began screening to a cult following who brought along props such as those used in the film — e.g., bread, toilet tissue, newspaper — to brandish and/ or hurl at the screen at the appropriate moment.

Audiences also began to do “callbacks”; which is to say, they would respond to (or even anticipate) the lines they knew were coming. In 1977, Dennis attended such a screening in San Francisco (the perfect place for it), introduced to the phenomenon by a friend. He never in a zillion years would have imagined that someday he’d have a son who was a Rocky Horror shadowcast fanatic.

Shadowcasting began that same year, at a theatre in Los Angeles. Though the term wasn’t coined until a few years later, when the craze really took off nationwide. Zephyr, a seasoned theatrical pro who grew up touring the nation and performing with his parents, became involved shortly after settling in the Boston/ Providence area in 2008, and he has remained active and dedicated to the cause.

Rocky Horror is still the flick most frequently shadowcast, and we’re able to catch a performance of it while we’re in town. But there are others that also have become staples, including The Room, which is in hot contention for the worst movie ever made. And a more recent addition to the repertoire is Reefer Madness, which we also are able to attend this time around.

This particular Reefer Madness is not the original film of that name, a cringeworthy 1936-38 opus concocted by a church group to sacremonger about the supposed dangers of marijuana, a propaganda piece that ended up being suitably dopey, as it were. Originally titled Tell Your Children, it went through various titles and versions on its way to becoming a cult classic. In 1999, it was adapted into a musical, which was then made into its own film in 2005. And that is what Zephyr and company are shadowcasting — it’s sort of a spoof of a spoof.

In this performance that we attend, our son portrays Jack, a nasty villainous type, and he sinks his teeth into the part. For actors, it’s more fun and rewarding to enact roles very different from themselves in real life; thus, you’ll find that the most vile characters are often played by the nicest, most admirable individuals. Speaking of which, attending these two performances gives us a good opportunity to catch up with some of Zephyr’s friends, including Chris (the loveable bear of a guy in the photo). It also gave us a chance to behave as if we were decades younger, going out to a diner after the show and getting home at 2:00 a.m. Thank heavens we don’t do that every night.

It’s been quite a memorable week in Providence. A rendezvous with a feisty centenarian. A march for democracy. And two opportunities to observe our son and his friends presenting their splashy mimicking of trashy cinema. Here’s hoping that the stars will continue to align this well on the rest of our stateside sojourn.

Events occurred 4/10-19/2025