Monthly Archives: February 2011

Richard Rodgers Honors Peter Duchan And Justin Paul

While Americans were going ga-ga over a woman in an egg, the theater world shined a spotlight on a pair of Westporters.

Justin Paul

Last weekend “Dogfight” received a Richard Rodgers Award for Musical Theater.  The studio production’s book is by Peter Duchan (book).  Music and lyrics are by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul.  Peter and Justin are Staples grads; Benj is very familiar locally, as a longtime collaborator with Justin. 

Rodgers Awards nurture talented composers and playwrights by subsidizing productions of their musicals in New York.  This year’s jury was chaired by Stephen Sondheim.

Set in 1960s San Francisco, “Dogfight” follows Eddie Birdlace, a Marine about to ship out to Vietnam.  He and his friends hold a cruel competition — a “dogfight” — during which each man brings the ugliest date he can find to a party.

Peter Duchan

According to Playbill.com, “Eddie finds Rose, a diner waitress whose idealism and compassion challenge him on his last evening before he ships out. When he returns, a broken man, to a changed America, he may finally be ready for the redemptive kindness Rose offers.”

Peter and Justin’s latest award is of interest to Westporters for another reason, beyond their hometown roots:   Richard Rodgers lived for many years on Hulls Highway, just over the Fairfield line.

Staples SLOBs

 

Staples is filled with SLOBs.

And Westport is a far better place for them.

The yuk-yuk anagram stands for Service League of Boys.  The parent-son community service club is one of the most popular organizations at school.

It’s only 3 years old, but already the SLOBs have established a great tradition:  Service Sunday.  Fathers, mothers and teenage sons work together doing construction, landscaping and painting for social service groups in town.

Last year they gave the Gillespie Center a new courtyard, finished the food pantry and painted their office.  SLOBs painted the bathrooms at Bacharach Emergency Housing, and mulched their beds.  They did a lot of landscaping for Saugatuck Apartments and Linxweiler, and also worked for seniors through the Department of Human Services.

This year they’ve added Project Return and the ABC House.

Staples SLOBs work in the Gillespie Shelter food pantry.

They pay for supplies with unique fundraisers.  For 2011 a committee of boys devised an arm wrestling event.  After school on March 11, SLOBs and friends will try to break the Guinness world record for simultaneous arm wrestlers (it’s 200).  Then SLOBs will host an arm wrestling tournament, with teams of 6 (3 males, 3 females — teachers are welcome).  By charging an entry fee, SLOBs hopes to raise up to $10,000.

Tom and David Kalb help landscape Linxweiler House.

But they still need help for Service Day (this year, May 1).  SLOBs provides the grunt work, but they need professionals to help — for example, doing bathroom renovatiions (including new vinyl flooring), and installing paving stones and removing damaged asphalt at the Gillespie Center.

Pros are also needed for power washing at 2 houses; porch renovation and replacement of rotted shingles; replacing a rotted stockade fence, and sheetrocking a small area of the food pantry.

Sure, Staples students sometimes leave the cafeteria a mess.  But this group of SLOBs is doing some pretty neat things.

(Interested in helping with Service Sunday, either by donating professional expertise or money?  Able to donate a storage shed, new grill, and/or new tools like rakes and shovels?  Contact Suzanne Kalb:  skalb@optonline.net; 203-226-4803.)


Metro Swimshop Paddles To Norwalk

Metro Swimshop — located for years on Church Lane — is moving a couple of miles west.  The new location is 181 Westport Ave. (Route 1), Norwalk.

Soon, Y swimmers who forget their Speedos, goggles or ear plugs won’t be able to walk across the street for replacements.

Of course, in a couple of years forgetful swimmers will be in the same boat anyway.

Unless, that is, the Y opens up a swim shop of its own.  With all that extra space, they could be the Mitchells of waterwear.

I Was A Nielsen TV Viewing Family

The list of things that will never in a bajillion years happen to any human being is long.  It includes:

  1. Winning the lottery
  2. Getting a shout-out from the president during the State of the Union speech
  3. Being chosen as a Neilsen TV ratings family.

Much as I would prefer the 1st 2 options, my name came up for #3.

The Nielsen Company people were far more excited than I was.  First came a card in the mail announcing my selection.  Then came a follow-up phone call.

The process was explained several times, as if I were a somewhat slow child — you will receive a TV Viewing Diary, and should fill it in each day for a week, even if you don’t watch TV that particular day — and the perky Neilsen person stressed often that this was a Very Important Task.  I got the impression I would basically be setting television ad rates for, like, the entire country, for the next year or so.

My actual Nielsen diary

As perkily promised, the diary arrived.  This was not leather-bound, as I imagined, or even plastic.  It was a few pieces of paper, stapled in the middle like a middle school concert program.  The typeface and paper stock were straight out of the 1970s.  I was tempted to write “Sanford and Son” for my 1st show.

But I didn’t, because my 1st task was answering a series of questions.  “How many TV sets are in my house?” Nielsen wanted to know.

This is harder to answer than it seems.  I can’t remember the last time I heard the phrase “TV set.”  In 2011 Americans watch TV shows on computer monitors, laptops and smartphones.  But I guessed Nielsen doesn’t know this, or really care, so I put down “1.”

Question 2 asked:  “How many of these are in working order.”

Oh boy.

I plowed through some more preliminary questions, then came to the part about “the household member…living here who owns, is buying or rents this home.”

“Is this person Spanish, Hispanic or Latino?” Nielsen wondered.

¡Ay, caramba!

A typical Nielsen TV family.

Next, I had to write in “the channel or station name, number and city for all the channels this set now receives.”  This might have been something any Joe could have done back in the “Sanford and Son” days — but unfortunately Gerald Ford is no longer president.  I have the lowest-level (“Titanium”) Cablevision plan, and even so I get 2,495 channels.

Luckily I found a Cablevision card from 2006, so I started filling in the data.  “2, WCBS, New York.  3, WFSB, Hartford….”  I was barely out of single digits before I was writing stations from “Riverhead” and “Linden.”

Whoa! I said to myself.  Not only have I never watched these channels — and not only did I not know I got them — but I’ve lived my whole life here, and I have no clue where or what “Linden” is.

But I was a Nielsen TV Viewing Family, so I continued my laborious task.  Spike.  The Black Entertainment Network.  The Channel Guide (hey, it was listed on the card).

I thought of putting in a fake name or two to see if they’d notice — The Dan Woog Network maybe, or Congressional Sex Scandal TV — but then I figured such channels probably already exist.  Besides, I was learning a lot as I went on.  I get the Speed Network!  Awesome!

Soon, it was on to the Diary.  (Nielsen always capitalizes this.  The same way we refer to the Pope.)

Nielsen would find out My Viewing Habits.  Ad rates would shift dramatically.  The economy would go into overdrive.  That is so cool.

There was only one problem.

I don’t watch TV.

Okay, that’s stretching the truth.  I do watch.  Every 4 years, I am a huge fan of the presidential election returns.

If I’m sitting in the Toyota service department waiting room I watch whatever I’m forced to, which usually consists of a white guy, a white woman, a black guy and a Hispanic woman (or vice versa) bantering fake-jovially.  It doesn’t matter if it’s the news, a talk show or ESPN; a federal law says all TV shows must now have these people on it.

And yes, there are 2 shows I watch whenever I can.  They are “60 Minutes” and — I swear on Sarah Palin’s bible, this is true — “Cops.”

But I missed “60 Minutes” during my viewing week.  So — again this is true, may god and Nielsen strike me dead — my Diary consisted of all “X”s in the “TV Set Off” column, except for 1 hour of “Cops.”

My salary for working for Nielsen for a week.

I filled in my Diary exactly that way.  I was scrupulously honest, as I’d promised to be.  Besides, they gave me a crisp $1 bill for my troubles, so if I lied I’d probably be committing some sort of television felony.

That was it.  My week as a TV Viewing Diary Family was over.  I was proud to do my part for Nielsen, my country, and most of all, the advertising industry.

Sorry if I screwed up your ad rates, though.  My bad.

Any Old Movies?

The recent “06880” post about Westport’s way-cool 1934 aerial photos prompted one reader to write:

Amazing how rural the town was back then.  This reminded me that a long time ago, a local photographer told me he had old movies of Westport.  They included film shot from a car driving up and down the Post Road.  I can’t remember who he was (I think his studio was on South Compo, a block or two from the Post Road).

Have you ever heard of such movies?  Is there anything like that at the Westport Historical Society?  Perhaps you could ask your readers.  Someone must know about these.  Or have their own.

Someone must know.  And many Westporters must have movies, from the days when we actually filmed (rather than “videotaped”) our lives.

So the question becomes:  What next?  How can we (or who should) collect, organize and make available what must be a treasure trove of Westport film?

“06880” readers are a passionate, creative and (in a good way) obsessive bunch.  Click “Comments” if you’ve got a good idea about this project.

The Fine Arts Theatre is gone -- but it must live on in some old movies taken around town.

Science Fairs Thrive In Westport

In the 1950s, it was Sputnik.  In the 2010s, it’s science fairs.  Both are symbols of America losing its competitive edge.

Both President Obama and the New York Times have weighed in on the declining numbers of, and interest in, science fairs — those rites of education in which students devise experiments, create posters, and try to impress judges with their diligent work.

As so often happens, Westport is bucking the trend.

Science fairs — all of science education, really — is alive and well in a town that more often celebrates financial wizardry, artistic endeavors and sports.

A fair that began as a tiny gathering in the Staples library several years ago has mushroomed into an event that draws more than 300 student exhibitors from 4 schools, judges and guests.  Last week, science research students participated in what’s now called the Southern Connecticut Science and Engineering Fair — the gateway to an international competition.

Jackson Yang took behavioral science 1st place for his work on “The Effect of Volume of Background Music on Cognitive Task Performance.”  Yuri Lenskiy finished 1st in physical science for “Modeling an Optimal Receiver for a Binary Quantum Channel Using Information Theory.”

Other students received awards for projects like “The Effect of Over-Expression of E-Cadherin on Megakaryocyte Differentiation” (Isabel Baker); “Multicolored Quantum Dot-Based Light-Emitting Diodes Utilizing Highly Monodisperse CdSe/ZnS/Shell Nanocrystals” (Robert Mahieu) and (this one I understand) “Memory and Recollection of Goldfish” (Matt Smith).

Joseph Yang demonstrates a model of a Turing machine to Staples classmates Jack Rosenberg and Corey Werner at the 11th annual Southern Connecticut Invitational Science & Engineering Fair last weekend. (Photo: Bob Luckey / Greenwich Time)

Congressman Jim Hines addressed the student scientists.  He called America’s science and engineering standing “now deep in the pack.  We are junior varsity, and that must change.”

Staples already has a varsity, resembling the best that can be found on the soccer or football field.  A 3-year Science Research Program — led by Dr. Nick Morgan and Dr. Michele Morse — provides students with unparalleled opportunities to unearth a problem, find a mentor, hone research skills, and discover answers (or, perhaps, more questions).

Students in the rigorous course enter prestigious competitions, sponsored by the likes of Siemens and Intel.  (Staples has had international, $150,000 winners.)

There are also subject-specific contests, like those for Young Epidemiology Scholars.

After review and certification of the Science Research Program, Morgan and Morse are now adjunct professors at the University of Albany.  Their Staples students can earn up to 12 college credits through the college.

Middle school students also compete in science fairs.  A district-wide event was held last week at Coleytown.  Those students also plan to enter 2 upcoming competitions:  the Invention Convention, and the Siemens Environmental Challenge.

Dr. A.J. Scheetz, Westport science coordinator for grades 6-12, sees science fairs as part of the effort to expand STEM — science, technology, engineering and math — education throughout the district.  Other initiatives include the development of new computer programming courses at Staples, and reconfiguring the middle school science showcase.

The biggest hole, Scheetz says, is engineering.  A group of students excel in robotics — they’ve won international awards — but more can be done.  “We’d like to see experiences in engineering become normative experiences for all Westport students,” Scheetz says.

If so, perhaps one day a Staples grad will design the 21st-century version of Sputnik.

Then again, she may still be in high school when she does.

The View From Egypt

Throughout more than 2 weeks of demonstrations in Egypt, the voices of Westporters have been quiet.

We’ve watched — with the rest of the world — as citizens of the proud, ancient nation have struggled against an oppressive government, and for freedom and justice.

One Westporter has more than a passing interest in the outcome.  Taher Naggar is the son of Egyptian parents.  Taher’s father emigrated to the U.S. from Egypt in 1969; his mother came 5 years later.  Born in 1976 in Queens, Taher moved to Westport at 5.  In 1994 he graduated from Staples.

Taher Naggar

Every couple of years growing up, Taher visited Egypt.  He spent time with family members, but did not really experience the country.  Only in the past 6 years has he gotten to know the land.  That created a “stronger, richer” connection, he says.

In Westport, Taher knew only 1 other Egyptian family.  But from his first day of kindergarten at Green’s Farms Elementary School, he never felt unwelcome or out of place.  He made friendships he maintains today.

“I never sensed that I was mistreated because I looked different, had a strange name or fasted during Ramadan,” he says.  “Even during the first Gulf War, as a freshman at Staples, there were only a few comments thrown my way.”

A Jewish friend and he often joked about “our brethren, and the never-ending conflict in Israel/Palestine.”  Taher learned that America is filled with people from other parts of the world — places rife with conflict — who find themselves “tolerating, working with, even developing and maintaining friendships and relationships with people from the very countries they may have learned to hate in their homelands.  It’s an amazing phenomenon.”

Even so, telling people he is Egyptian — and Muslim — has elicited amazement, and “big eyes of wonder.”  He cautions others that while he is no expert in either area, he is happy to answer questions.

After graduating from Ohio University, Taher worked at a talent management company, a boutique ad agency and Enterprise Rent-a-Car.  Last September he started a new career, as a 7th grade math teacher in the Bronx.  He now lives back in his birthplace:  Queens.

In New York, for the 1st time he socialized with Egyptians and Arabs who were not related to him.  It was exciting to have new friends — young men and women with similar experiences as children of immigrants.  It was novel to sit with 15 or 30 peers and switch back and forth from English to Arabic.

At the same time, he felt like an outsider.  He had grown up following religious and cultural norms like not drinking alcohol.  But his new friends were like most 20-something Americans, “doing everything under the sun.”

They also seemed to have stronger ties to Egypt than Taher did.  He made a concerted effort to know the country better.  On his trips there, he tried to live like a local.

Though spared the pain of knowing anyone who died on 9/11 — and not really the target of ignorant or insensitive remarks — Taher and others like him were strongly affected by the terrorist attacks.

“As New Yorkers, we watched our city and neighbors crumble and die,” he says.  “As Americans, we lost our sense of invincibility.

“As Arab Muslims, our religion and cultures were hijacked well before those planes took off, to be used as rallying cries for the grossly misguided ideologies of a twisted minority that do not reflect reality for the majority of the Islamic and Arab worlds.”

The current uprising in Egypt is “well overdue,” Taher says.  “While I pray for the safety of my family and friends there, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed with pride and excitement.

“Over the last few years in particular, every local I’ve met in Egypt has complained about the lack of opportunity and freedom there.  Every family member I’ve spoken with echoes the same sentiments.”

Despite the fear and uncertainty, Taher says, his relatives “know that this uprising is what Egypt needs to stand up on its own feet again, and prosper and flourish.”  They look forward to a “new normal that will allow them to be fully part of the 21st century — not just living on the fringe.”

Taher has been shocked at the number of Egyptians who take to the streets, and their ability to hold their ground.  He does not think any friends or family members are actively protesting in Tahrir Square or at the Parliament building, though some may have taken to the streets with the general protesters.

He knows no one who supports Hosni Mubarak and his regime.  Doing so, Taher says, “would be akin to self-repression.”

He believes that if the demonstrators maintain their numbers and stamina, they can create the change they seek.

“I hope they are able to bring about the dawning of a new day in Egypt,” Taher says.  “I want for them and for Egypt what they want for themselves:  freedom.”

He was heartened by a friend’s Facebook post:  “Egyptian people, you have my sincerest admiration and respect.  I’ve never experienced a true sense of pride and belonging to you until now.  The world is watching you…make history!”

Taher Naggar is watching too, from thousands of miles away.  But these are his people, and it is his history that is finally in the making.

And The New Name Is…

According to Skip Lane — who brokered the deal for  Cushman & Wakefield — Mario Batali’s new Charles Street restaurant will be called:  Tarry Lodge Enoteca & Pizzeria.

When “06880” broke this story on Monday, we suggested a Saugatuck-themed name.  Well, at least the famed restaurateur/chef tips his toque to the area’s Italian heritage with the 2nd half of the new name.

“Enoteca” is Italian (from Greek).  According to Wikipedia, “it literally means ‘wine repository’ … but is used to describe a special type of local or regional wine shop that originated in Italy.”

Urban Dictionary‘s definition is spicier:  “like a wine cellar; a place where you drink wine, get drunk, and get sweet hookups.”

Everyone knows what a pizzeria is — and Westport’s got pizzerias a-plenty — but what about “Tarry Lodge”?

Batali’s already got a trattoria and market by that name in Port Chester.  According to his website, a lodge is “a meeting or dwelling place” that “fosters gathering and community.”

As for “tarry,” it means to “stay for a time, especially longer than intended.”  Another definition is “to delay or be tardy in going or coming.”

Ah!  Given the new restaurant’s location just a few steps from the railroad station, it all makes sense now.

 

Trying To Be A Boy Scout

Leaving an office building restroom the other day, I saw something gold on the floor.  That’s weird, I said to myself.  How did my American Express card end up there?

Except it wasn’t my card.  It had someone else’s name.  And it was a business credit card, with the company’s name listed too.

The card I found looked like this, except it did not belong to C. F. Frost.

The normal procedure — normal, that is, if you’re not a crook — is to hunt down the cardholder, ask a few questions to make sure it’s theirs, and return it.  But the name on this card was absurdly generic — let’s say, “Susan Smith.”

After thinking to myself “Wow, I knew a ‘Susan Smith’ in high school,” I figured I’d contact the company.  I’d never heard of it, but it had “Entertainment” in the name, so I assumed it was a small local business.

It’s not.  It’s a large firm, based in California.  The website had no directory of executives, and an extensive search of the site didn’t help.

On to Facebook.  Of course, there are a squintillion Susan Smiths — black, white, young, old, gorgeous, not — but none from around here or with an entertainment profile.

Next up:  Google.  “Susan Smith” plus the company name brought no exact matches.  But the top link was to a Susan Smith’s LinkedIn profile.  She worked in the entertainment field, for a media firm.

I’m on LinkedIn — though I haven’t figured out why — so I sent Susan Smith a message.  “Did you lose your Amex card today?” I asked.  “If so, tell me where, what color, and what the business name is.”

But that was a long shot.  If I were Susan Smith I’d probably be freaking about my lost card.  So I called American Express, to say I’d found it, and all was well.

Easier said than done.  The recorded AmEx voice asked me to say “my” card number.  “Mine” was Susan’s — no problem.

But then I had to answer the security question:  something about my her elementary school.  I was stumped, but I got a 2nd chance:  the last 4 digits of my her Social Security number.

After passive-aggressively informing me that she could not hear my response, the voice gave me a set of options.  None, of course, resembled “speak to a customer service representative.”

So I did what I always do in such circumstances:  I yelled into the phone, “I just want to talk to a f—ing person!”

“Sorry!” she chirped.  “I did not understand that request.”

The customer service representative I spoke with was quite perky, and helpful.

Punching in several not-what-I-wanted prompts — “Membership Rewards” was one, I think — finally got me to “talk with a customer service representative.”

Sort of.  I waited on hold for a while — surprise! — until finally a helpful woman without an Indian accident — another surprise! — greeted me warmly.

I’ve long ago learned that it’s not her fault her company’s phone tree sucks.  So I explained what happened.  She told me to destroy the card, and thanked me for my help.  That was that!

But I had to convey my frustration, so I told her my story.

She apologized on behalf of American Express’s tens of thousands of employees, and said:  “Just so you know, sir, in the future you can punch ‘zero-pound-zero-pound’ any time.  That will take you straight to customer service!”

How simple!  Silly me!  Why hadn’t I thought of that?

PS:  The next morning, “Susan” emailed me back.  She’d gotten my LinkedIn message.  She was the one whose card was lost.  She thanked me profusely.

And she added that yes indeed, she was the Susan Smith who had been in my class back in the day at Staples.

What Happens In Maine, Doesn’t Stay In Maine

Last week, the  New York Times reported on a surge in armed pharmacy robberies.  The story focused on Maine, but the trend is nationwide:  More than 1800 times in the past 3 years, people seeking opioid painkillers have held up drugstores.

Westport is no different from Bingham, Rockland or Lewiston, Maine — or Satellite Beach, Florida; North Highlands, California and Tulsa, Oklahoma, also cited in the Times story.

Last Friday, a knife-wielding man robbed CVS of the prescription painkillers Fentanyl and Duragesic.  It was 5:45 a.m., and he escaped out the back door, a few steps from the pharmacy.

It’s no secret that some Westporters rely heavily on painkillers — whether they need them or not. 

Now, it turns out, our town is not immune from the secondary effects of opioid addiction either.

A photo of the armed robber in the CVS store. The man is described as 5-5, approximately 200 pounds. If you have information about the crime, call the Westport Police at 203-341-6080.