The tanks at the Aquidneck Lobster Company in Newport. To me, it's one of the wonders of the world – an old piece of Newport that has somehow survived right off fashionable Bowen's Wharf, filled with huge wood reservoirs crawling with lobsters. You know how those lobster tanks at restaurants are kind of fascinating? Multiply that a thousand times. Plus, when you're done, you could spend hours more strolling the rest of the downtown Newport waterfront.

The draggers at Point Judith. One of the great symbols of the Ocean State is our offshore fishing fleet and the heart of it is the docks at Point Jude, where boats that work for a living tie up. They have great names, like The Iron Horse. Many are named after wives or children, like the Travis and Natalie or the Heather Lynn. A lot of people don't know that the Point Judith fleet supplies most of the country's calamari by dragging for squid between here and Georges Bank and beyond. The captain of the Travis and Natalie, Fred Mattera, will tell you things many people don't know about the business – like the way winter is the best time for squid fishing, but if you're caught coming home in a freezing spray, the crew will have to grab baseball bats and tire irons to knock ice buildup off the riggings to keep the boat from getting top-heavy. The docks are a scenic but real slice of Rhode Island, and the next time you order seafood, you'll have more appreciation for what it took to get it to your table.

The Athenaeum and Swan Point Cemetery. There's something about Providence that drew famous horror writers. Edgar Allan Poe once tried to romance a librarian at the Athenaeum on Benefit Street, one of the oldest private libraries in the country. That alone makes it worth a stop. Then there was H.P. Lovecraft, the dark scribe most associated with the capital city. You might want to visit him at Swan Point Cemetery, a stunning showcase of trees and park land. Of the 70,000 or so graves there, they say Lovecraft's is the most popular, in part because of its unique epitaph. His parting words to the world display a creepy local boosterism: "I am Providence."

The Pawsox. Admittedly, the Boston Red Sox are a mythic team, but you know the ordeal: You drive an hour or more, fight traffic, hunt for a space, hike to the stadium and three hours later, you do the same thing in reverse. Oh, and decent tickets are often $250-per or more, so a night for a family easily costs over $1,000. Who needs that, especially when the quality of play is first-class at Triple-A McCoy. It's around the corner, parking is easy, the stadium's terrific and here's the real draw: The box seats are $10. I wouldn't turn down a luxury suite at Fenway if offered, but all things considered, there's no contest. A night at The Pawsox is the best, most stress-free way for a local to see great baseball, and if you haven't done so, you need to before you die. There are McCoy games today at 12, tomorrow at 7, Saturday at 6 and after Sunday's 1 p.m. game, kids get to run the bases on the field. Beat that, Fenway.

The Baby Bruins. Take all of what I just said, and apply it to the Boston Bruins versus the Providence Bruins at the Dunkin' Donuts Center. Again, there's only one choice, especially now that the Dunk is getting an interior face-lift. Plus, I find that AHL hockey can often get nastier than the NHL version, and who doesn't like to see a pair of tough guys drop their gloves? The season isn't until fall but you can buy tickets now.

Mrs. Astor's Beechwood. One of my favorite Newport tourist stops is Mrs. Astor's mansion on Bellevue. An acting troupe plays the family and staff in strict keeping with the consciousness of the early 1900s. During one tour I took there, a maid and butler came sneaking out of a room, surprised at being caught, and gave stumbling explanations of how they were just, um, cleaning. If you try to trick them by, say, pointing upward while in the garden and asking "Is that an airplane?", they will answer, "What's an airplane?"

WaterFire. I know this one's on most tourist brochures, too, but if you've never been to a WaterFire, you've missed one of the coolest urban happenings anywhere. It's rare in this fast-paced age to find an event that draws thousands to simply stroll and sit peacefully for hours. It's like a mile-long urban campfire. The soulful music, the roaring braziers, the water, the stone banks – it somehow comes together in a uniquely Providence way that I doubt could be duplicated. Nothing against Cleveland, for example, but I don't think it would work on the Cuyahoga. The next WaterFire is Saturday, July 28.

Goosewing Beach. South County's beaches are justifiably the big dogs in Rhode Island beach-going, but if you can find your way, it's worth winding into Little Compton for a visit to Goosewing Beach, which gives a whole different feel, with pastures and a pond unfolding behind it. On your way there or back, you have to hit up Tiverton Four Corners to get a cone at the legendary Gray's Ice Cream, and a sandwich at the Provender. I recommend the Scarlet Letter, a turkey and cranberry combination that has endured there for decades.

New York System. People like to talk about classic Rhode Island cuisine, but most don't know that one of the local food meccas is the original New York System wiener joint in Providence at Smith Street and Chalkstone. It was started in 1927 with a top-secret set of ingredients passed down by the founder, Gust Pappas, to his son and grandson. The family is said to be the only ones to still mix the recipe. Go in and order one, or five of them, "all the way." And chase it with coffee milk. That's such a tradition there that they sell 35 gallons or so of coffee milk each week and only one gallon of regular milk. And if you doubt it's the "original" New York System, they'll show you a well-worn, 80-year-old tile on the floor that says, "ONYS".

Old Guy's Hardball. When I recently joined the over-50 division of the Rhode Island Men's Senior Baseball League, I figured it would be a bunch of geezers wheeled over from the extended-care facility. But they play decent ball – most better than I can, and wood bats are required. It's a kick to watch them. And you never know who's out there. The other week, I began to chase an outfield fly ball falling into the gap and yelled for the centerfielder to stand down because I thought I had the better chance. After the catch, I realized I'd just waved off a brigadier general – Tom Haynes, assistant adjutant general for the Rhode Island Air National Guard. Even though the guys get angry when they whiff or blow a play, there's a good-spirited feel you don't find in many leagues. You can check out the schedule at rimsbl.com, where this weekend alone there are 18 games at places like Rhode Island College, Cranston West, and Seekonk Junior High.

Rhody Oldies. And you have to see a Rhody Oldies hockey game, where currently, men from 60 to 78 are out there mixing it up on the ice. I watched a game once and talked to the players afterward. They told me that once, when a line change came, one player just sat on the bench instead of going out. When they nudged him, they realized he'd moved on to the next life, and all agreed that was the way to go, with your skates on. More important, these guys know how to live, and watching them play reminds you of the same. They play Wednesday mornings from 9 to 10:30 at Pawtucket's Lynch Arena. The White Horse. Though it's always interesting to go to a new restaurant, it's more memorable to go to one that's older than the nation. The building housing Newport's White Horse Tavern was built in 1652, when some of the Pilgrims were still around. It became a tavern in 1673, and a semi-retired pirate was among the early owners. They say the "businessmen's lunch" started at the White Horse in 1703 when local councilors began dining there and billing it to the public treasury. It's got cavernous fireplaces, giant beams and a classic 17th-century feel. It also consistently gets awards for food and service. If George Washington didn't sleep or eat there, he should have.

Gooseberry and Hermits. If you drive past Bailey's Beach in Newport, which you'll have to do because they won't let you in anyway, you'll find what to me is one of the most charming boutique-beaches around – Gooseberry. It's a hidden enclave dotted with soft sand, big rocks and clear, calm water that's fine for little kids, and just as fine for bigger ones to swim out in. For some reason, hermit crabs love the place, and it's fun to dig a small pool by the water's edge and make a temporary hermit crab zoo. They have a snack bar, too. It's just a great beach.

Polo. I know, it sounds like something only the Prince Charles set would go to, but they have serious polo in Rhode Island. Between the sport itself and the setting on Glen Farm off East Main Road in Portsmouth, it's like a visit to England without having to pay airfare to Heathrow. The crowd is an engaging counterpoint to, say, the fans at the P-Bruins. You don't hear many polo spectators calling the umpire a bum. The Newport Polo Club plays teams not just from the U.S., but from as far away as Egypt. This Saturday at 5 p.m., it'll be Ireland. Crumpets aside, it's a tough, even dangerous, sport. An added attraction: the local team is co-ed.

Little Italy. Atwells Avenue in Providence really does feel a bit like you're on a street in Milan, at least I imagine it does. By day, you can peruse specialty food shops like Venda Ravioli, as well as others that make pasta on the premises. By night, you have about 20 choices for dinner, and afterward, walk through DePasquale Square, a great little urban piazza, where there's a fountain and a choice of dessert places.

High School Hockey. I've already talked about both the Boston and Providence Bruins. But if you really want a pumped-up hockey experience, check out a Rhode Island state high school hockey championship game. Although Canada continues to claim hockey as its own, I still think it was invented here, or at least we act like it. No Stanley Cup game is more fired up than a Rhode Island high school hockey championship. I still remember seeing a feisty one between La Salle Academy and The Mount. The La Salle side kept chanting "L-S-A," prompting some Mount fans to inexplicably march through them with a poster bearing those same three letters: L-S-A . Only if you looked close, the small print spelled out "Ladies' Skating Association," which did not amuse the La Salle fans. But it was all memorable.

Ski Rhode Island. It's not exactly Aspen Mountain, or Killington, but Yawgoo Valley in Exeter is closer. I'm still not sure how Rhode Island ended up with a ski mountain, and kept it, but it's kind of nice to take a run without having to drive for hours. It's a pretty little ski area that's big enough to count as real skiing. Plus, its 315-foot elevation isn't bad. Though now that I think about it, the State Central Landfill in Johnston, at 580 feet, is higher than Yawgoo. But the last I looked, the Landfill doesn't have any chairlifts.

Bike Paths. Finally, Boston likes to consider itself superior to all things Rhode Island, the Hub of the Universe and all that tedious stuff, but I know a woman there who brings her kids south every so often to ride on the East Bay Bike Path. We take it for granted, but it's incredible to have a path that runs 14.5 miles from East Providence to Bristol almost all along the water. It never would have happened if builders had an open run at such property, but it was a railway long ago and reclaimed for public use. The state has similar paths elsewhere – in places like Coventry and South County. You can't die before you stroll, bike or Rollerblade on one of them.