Monthly Archives: March 2011

The Next Picture Show

Westport, we keep saying, is a community closely connected to the arts.  We point with pride to our filmmakers and film lovers.

We’ve also watched our community go from 5 movie theaters in the 1990s, to 0 in 2011.

Fairfield has theaters.  Norwalk has many.  Even Bethel has a movie theater.

Now — just like a John Ford western — a cavalry rides to our rescue.

This one is called the Westport Cinema Initiative.  Despite its unglamorous name, its goals are grand:  Bring a state-of-the-art, independent 2-screen movie theater to town.

The Initiative has already incorporated as a not-for-profit 501 (c) 3.  There’s a board of directors, a movie-ish logo, a Facebook page and a Twitter account.

Most importantly, starting Saturday, March 26, there will be screenings at venues around town.  The 1st event is a 4-show extravaganza:  the original “Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” (9:30 a.m.); the Academy Award-nominated documentary “Waste Land (1 p.m.); “Big Night” (7:30 p.m.), and a 10 p.m. showing of the cult classic “Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

The Cinema Initiative hopes those films — and additional ones, at the Levitt Pavilion or other locations — will create an audience, and help an actual theater become reality.

The biggest challenge, of course, is money.

“Most independent art cinemas have been initiated by a philanthropist,” says Cinema Initiative director Sandy Lefkowitz.  She cites Stamford’s Avon Theater (2 screens) and the Jacob Burns Film Center in Pleasantville, NY as examples.

Both started as existing buildings — and that’s another area of concern.

Board member Doug Tirola and Lefkowitz recently attended a conference in Utah.  They learned that many community theaters started in storefronts.  Others shared space with an organization like a museum.  Every theater — of the 200 represented — had a dedicated space.

“We don’t have that here,” Lefkowitz says.  Some locations that have been suggested — like the Playhouse and library — are not suitable.

But, she adds, “we get the feeling that merchants and townspeople want this.  Wherever there’s a theater, there’s a stronger sense of community.  There’s more going out for dinner, for drinks — more togetherness.”

Creating a theater “is doable,” Lefkowitz believes.  “But it will take a while.”

Angels will help bring "Chainsaw" -- and other cult films to Westport. Along with indie films, art films, and foreign films.

Instead of waiting to find a spot, then raise money, the Cinema Initiative is conducting a pilot run.  Last month they emailed people who already expressed interest in a theater.  The Initiative asked for angels:  50 people who could contribute $1,000 each, to cover this year’s budget.

Within 20 minutes, they’d raised $8,000.  It’s now over $22,000.

“Avatar” cost $280 million to produce.  “Cleopatra” cost $44 million — that’s $300 million, in today’s money.

A Westport movie theater would be expensive — in land, construction and operating costs.

But think of what it costs us now to not have one.

(Tickets for each March 26 film –$10 for adults, $5 for children — are available at the Westport Country Playhouse box office; phone 203-227-4177.  For information on helping the Cinema Initiative — or becoming an angel — click here, email sandy@westportcinema.org, or call 203-434-2908.)

Happy Anniversary To Me

Two years ago today — March 6, 2009 — “06880″ was born.

The first post described what this blog would be:  open-ended conversations with a Westport angle, no matter how tenuous.  I invited comments, feedback, tips — anything.

No one responded.

Things picked up soon — my 2nd post, on a Staples PTA’s “Risky Behaviors” panel, drew 5 comments.  “06880″ was off to the races.

Time flies when you’re having fun.  Exactly 2 years later, my blog and I celebrate our 2nd anniversary.

Thinking of a gift?  That’s sweet.  The traditional 2nd-year gift is cotton.

But I’d prefer money.

Feel free to donate as much as you wish to “06880.”

For the past 2 years, “06880” has published 1,280 posts — nearly 2 a day.  Some have been international in scope — the ones on porn star Marilyn Chambers, “Paranormal Activity” star Micah Sloat and supermodel twins and “Amazing Race” stars Derek and Drew Riker still draw viewers, months later.

Others are intensely local:  drivers who leave the Robeks parking lot by going directly over the curb onto the Post Road.  Septic tanksLou Santella‘s incredible service to Saugatuck, and the town.

I’ve posted stories and photos of windstorms and blizzards, and called out clueless Westport drivers.  (Amazingly, not one of those spectacularly rude people is an “06880” reader.)

It's not what you think. "WTF" referred to Wakeman Town Farm. You'd know that if you read "06880."

I’ve given shout-outs to Westport kids — international science fair winners, Justin Bieber movie contest winners, winners who overcame incredible challenges you’d otherwise never know about.

I’ve covered Al’s Angels, the Tea Party, the environment, education, restaurants,  artists, oystermen, the movement for a new movie theater, and the movement of the Y.

I’ve provided a forum for wide-open discussions of anything and everything — on-topic, a bit tangential, and way, way off.

And it’s all been free.  A public service, if you will.

Of course, even servants like to eat.  So in honor of my anniversary, I’m making an NPR-style plea.  If you like what you read, please consider supporting “06880.”

Am I worth $1 a month?  $1 a week?  Perhaps (my choice!) $1 a day.

If you think “06880” deserves 10 cents a day, that’s only $36.50.  If you think it’s worth more — and you can afford more — well, who am I to argue?

Unlike Channel 13, you won’t get a Peter, Paul and Mary DVD.  Or a tote bag.  Donations are not even tax-deductible.

What you will get is the chance to help me recover a bit of the cost of registering domains, keeping “06880″ ad-free, and spending 1 or 2 hours every day interviewing, researching, writing, responding to comments (public and private), taking photos, and scouring the web for appropriate (and occasionally inappropriate)  graphics.

Thanks for 2 great years.  I’ll keep doing what I’m doing, whether anyone sends an anniversary gift or not.

But it would be nice.

You can donate by PayPal: click here, then go to “Send Money” and enter this email address:  dwoog@optonline.net.  You don’t even need a PayPal account!

Or checks may be mailed to:  Dan Woog, 301 Post Road East, Westport, CT 06880.  Put “06880″ on the memo line.  It won’t do anything for the IRS, but it may help you remember at tax time why you sent me something.

This Is Not A Broadway Trailer. It’s Better.

Still on the fence about seeing “Brighton Beach Memoirs,” Staples Players’ current Black Box Theater production?

This trailer will push you over that fence, and send you hustling for tickets.

The video gives a great flavor for the show — but it does not include Matt Van Gessel (double-cast as Stanley).  That’s because the talented senior actor also shot and produced the trailer.

Kids these days…

(“Brighton Beach Memoirs” will be performed tomorrow [Sunday, March 6] at 2 p.m., and this coming Thursday, Friday and Saturday [March 10, 11 and 12] at 7: p.m.  Click here to order tickets.)

Time To Play “6-Word Westport”

Smith Magazine features “6-word memoirs.”

Readers submit 6 words on subjects.

Food:

  • The chicken contributes, pig gives all.
  • I keep going back for seconds.
  • Bad chocolate’s better than good sex.

War:

  • Just like Hurt Locker, except real.
  • He should be coming home soon.
  • History repeats itself.  History repeats itself.

Love:

  • Met in leftist group; felt right.
  • Note to self:  No more surfers.
  • Met, loved, married 46 years.  Alzheimer’s.

Now’s the time: “6-Word Westport.”

I’ll start off this little game:

  • Dunkin’ Donuts, Starbucks, McDonald’s.  Remarkable?  No.
  • Weird, wacky town.  I love it.
  • Beach.  Beauty.  Creativity.  Arts.  Energy.  Entitlement.
  • Big bucks.  Big houses.  Big deal.
  • Worth the sacrifice?  Worth the sacrifice!

6 words on Westport — click “Comments.”

Mill Pond scene to inspire you. (Credit: Jeff Giannone)

Dissin’ Dunkin’

“06880” reader Wendy Pieper was in Saugatuck the other day.  She did not like what she saw.

Her reaction:

We stopped at the light at Peter’s Corner in Saugatuck.  (I call it that because Peter’s Market sat at this location for what seemed like forever.)

I’m not sure I would have seen the atrocity if we weren’t stopped for that brief moment, but I glanced up and saw the familiar logo that graces every mile (or less) up and down the Post Road:  Dunkin’ Donuts.

I couldn’t believe it.  My heart stopped — it literally missed a beat.  I was overcome by that feeling you get when you learn someone has died.  There were no words; just open-mouth gasping.

I  can’t believe Dunkin’ Donuts is in Saugatuck.

My husband and I rented a cottage on Riverside Avenue when we were first married.  A quick walk to the train, Viva’s, Peter’s Bridge, Mansion Clam House,  the Duck, Desi’s corner, the post office, Depot Liquor, DeRosa’s, etc.   What more could you need?

Not a Dunkin’ Donuts, that’s for sure!

There was a charming quality to the Saugatuck area — and there still is, hidden there waiting to blossom again.  There is a heart and soul, a feeling of community.  It’s something different than downtown, sorta fishy, sorta quirky, definitely a real feel of the river.  The last bits of old Westport are there.

We’ve given up so much of this town.  Do we have to sacrifice the last parts?  Do we really need another faceless, nameless shop?  When you’re in a Dunkin’ Donuts you could be in a mall, a truck stop, an airport — a place of nothing, devoid of locale.  Heartless.

I can’t tell you how many sandwiches, coffees and egg sandwiches I’ve grabbed from Peter’s.  I took them to the beach, or escaped on a boat.

The old Mansion Clam House has a new neighbor.

This little enclave was a place to restock and revive.  You’d see everyone there from town on their way to enjoy the beach or Longshore, or off to New York.

The parking lot was always crowded.  All the proprietors knew your face.  The deli people welcomed you.  There was a community.  You knew you were in Westport.

I spent a zillion hours at Juba’s (the old coffee spot in Peter’s) when my second daughter was born, trading stories and receiving encouragement from other moms.  I assure you you will not find this at Dunkin’ Donuts.

I can’t believe the town approved this.  McDonald’s and Arby’s received more scrutiny than this!  Did someone get paid off?  There was no prior notice, just another operation done under the cover of night — very cloak and dagger.

How is Doc’s going to survive?  Don’t we want to see the success of the local businessman?

We deserve more in this town.  For such an educated and eclectic group, we are sadly pacified with what is easy and common.  Where is our spirit, our individuality?  How could we have let this happen to another place?  How can we give up Saugatuck to more of the same?

How could the owners of this property ignore the history and charm or Saugatuck?  How could they be so short-sighted?

I am so saddened by this, as I’m sure many others are.

That was Wednesday.  Wendy had a night to think about Dunkin’ Donuts’ coming to Saugatuck.

Yesterday morning, she was still upset.  She wrote again:

I’m just so sad.  Once a Dunkin’ Donuts or the like go in to a place, they never leave.  You see abandoned stores everywhere, but somehow they manage to stay there with their stale coffee smell, chewy old bagels and napkins scattered on the sidewalk.

Will funky Doc's survive now that DD's has moved in?

It might be time to think of moving.  I can’t believe I grew up here, spent every summer on this shore, chose to build my life here with my family, and slowly I watch the decay of town.  I just don’t understand.  I wish there was something to do.  Is it greed?

I find myself in Fairfield more these days, because somehow they have managed to find a balance between the chains and the locals.  I’m afraid Westport will soon look and feel like Westchester County.  Maybe that’s what everyone wants, and I’m not the norm — my husband points that out to me often.

Am I living in a fantasy world?  Too Pollyanna?  I point out so many spots to my daughters, and preceding most comments is “There used to be this great place…”

Fill in the blank:  Ship’s, Soup’s On, the movie theater.  Even the strategic placement of Friendly’s in Playhouse Square was good — you could always find someone there after a movie.

Sorry to lament so early in the morning.  Any solution?  Is it too far gone?

This Dunkin’ Donuts seems to have put me over the edge.  I know I will get over it, move on and and find something wonderful again in town that I love and that keeps me here.

But in the meantime I shall say a prayer that others may feel the same — that we may all try to hold on to our beautiful town, and all that makes it unique and special.

The Agony Of Defeat

The recent death of Joe Murray elicited great memories of the epic 1967 FCIAC championship football game between Staples and Stamford Catholic.

“06880” reader Bruce Jones — a sophomore then, now living in Georgia — sent along a copy of the New York Times coverage that so many remember so well.

The iconic photo shows a sobbing Crusader, after his team’s 30-game unbeaten streak was snapped by the Wreckers (8-0).

But the shot also shows Staples’ Bill Croarkin offering “words of consolation for Bennett Salvatore, losers’ quarterback.”

Salvatore was certainly a great athlete — a high school All-American, in fact.  And he went on to a long career in professional sports — as an NBA  official.

He’s refereed over 1,500 basketball games — including 20 finals.

However, according to the Basketball-Refs.com blog, he has “the distinction of being the worst referee alive today.”

Four decades later, the guy can’t catch a break.

Lynsey And Tyler’s Libya Lens

The New York Times’ “Lens” page is always fascinating.  Each day it features fantastic photographs — and a back story, courtesy of the photographer.

Today’s “Lens” highlights Staples graduate Lynsey Addario.  She’s in Libya — working with fellow Stapleite and Times photographer Tyler Hicks.

Her story begins:

It’s been a rough day.  From where we are in Benghazi, the opposition sent hundreds of troops — if not more — toward the front line to fight against the government troops.

Tyler Hicks and I went forward.  Tyler was about two hours ahead of me.  We decided that I would stay back and see what was happening and then follow, depending on the situation.

At the send-off point for the opposition troops, people were pouring water on them and cheering.  Hundreds of people came out to send the fighters forward.  Everyone was armed to the teeth on the back of these trucks.

You could hear the airstrikes.  There was a lot of machine-gun fire, Kalashnikov fire.  People were shooting in the air.  It was really chaos.

That’s just the start.  Click here to see Lynsey’s amazing shots — and read more of her and Tyler’s harrowing experiences in a world far from Westport. 

(Photo: Lynsey Addario/New York Times)

Heartfelt Hugs

Staples principal John Dodig is a graceful, insightful writer.  Each month in the PTA newsletter “For the Wreckord” he tackles real problems, raises crucial questions — but no one beyond the readership of high school parents ever sees his words.

Here is John Dodig’s March column — another challenging window into Westport, and the world.

I just finished reading a short article about Ricky Martin’s recent coming out and what it has done for Latinos who are gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender. The author feels that by doing so, Martin made it easier for young Puerto Rican and Latin American men and women to reveal their true identities and, in general, be happier people.

This article reminded me of a conversation I had about 6 years ago with 2 African American Staples freshmen who were feeling alone, angry, and frustrated by being in a school where there were only a few people who looked like they did.  Both happened to be Bridgeport residents who attended Westport schools via the Open Choices state program.

When I met them during a moment of anger and frustration, I asked if they would speak to about 40 Staples adults, all of whom were members of our Collaborative Team. They agreed, and did so.

John Dodig

These 2 young women opened up to us in a very passionate, emotional outpouring of feelings.  They shared with us that they thought each day about quitting while riding on the bus.  They felt that it would be easier to move back to their home school in Bridgeport, where they would blend in with the crowd.  It was only through the unwavering personal attention of the Staples social worker assigned to this program, their assistant principal, and their very caring Staples teachers that they stayed with us.

Over time, they began to feel that they were part of the school population and no longer outsiders.  They somehow learned to deal with comments from their friends back home who said that they were changing and becoming “uppity Westporters.”  That period of transition, where they felt that they didn’t belong in either setting, was probably the most difficult.

By the senior year, however, one girl became the Homecoming Queen.  She was presented with a huge bouquet of roses on our football field, to the cheers and applause of almost 3,000 people.  I overheard her tell her parents on the sideline: “They really like me!”

The other young woman was asked to be the student speaker at baccalaureate, just before graduation.  Her emotional speech left not a dry eye in the house.

About a month ago, those 2 young women returned to Staples to let us know how they are doing.  One is now in hairdressing school, living on her own with a car and paying her own bills.

The other received an associate degree from Norwalk Community College, and is now working on a bachelor’s degree in criminology at UConn.  She wants to be a policewoman.

Both returned to see and hug the people who helped them through their transition at Staples.  After my hug, one said to her former assistant principal: “Thank you for caring and for being so tough on us.  I now work with people of all nationalities.  I realize that how I am treated is totally dependent on how I treat others.”  More tears flowed.

Staples can sometimes seem like a sea of sameness. (Photo does not depict actual students.)

There is no getting around the fact that Staples has a minority population of about 6 percent.  The largest minority population of 2.8% is Asian.  The African American student population is only 1.4%, and would be much smaller if it were not for the Open Choice program and the ABC program.

The Hispanic population is about 1.9%, and has not changed over time.  I can’t imagine that this will change in the near future.

It is important to remember that others have taken the place of the 2 girls I wrote about in this article, and that some are feeling just as they did.  The best we can do is be aware of it, and try to help them come to the same realization at an earlier age.

Being different at this age is difficult. We all like to be with people who think like us, look like we do, and have the same cultural identity.

Would it have been easier for those 2 girls to have transferred to their home school, where almost everyone had the same color skin? Maybe. But they did not, and they believe it made them stronger, wiser, more adaptable adults.

If you have to pick anywhere on earth to be different than the majority of people around you, Staples is the place.  Yet there are so many people in our school and community who are attuned to this, and are involved in making minority students’ lives happier than just about anywhere else I can think of.

I am writing about this not because of any particular recent incident but rather to talk about something that everyone knows is true, in hopes that more of us will become involved in reaching out and making all kids feel “at home.”

Whether a Staples teen is gay, a Muslim, African American, Hispanic or so tall she or he has to bend over to get through a door, Staples has to remain a warm and welcoming place.

In this case, it does take a village to make this happen.  I urge you to talk about this at one of the organizations to which you belong.  It is important to all of us.

Remember When We Couldn’t Wait For All That Snow To Melt?

Remembering Joe Murray

In 1967, Stamford Catholic was the Connecticut high school football power.  Winner of more than 30 straight games, averaging over 30 points every Saturday, they were the prohibitive favorites in the FCIAC championship contest.

No one gave Staples a chance.

Head coach Paul Lane may not even have believed the Wreckers could win.  But he prepared the team well — tactically, physically and mentally — and they were ready.

Joe Murray played a key role too.  A captain, linebacker and offensive guard, his intense spirit, positive attitude and great sense of humor helped convince his teammates they could pull off an upset for the ages.

They did.  On that memorable November day at Stamford’s Boyle Stadium, Staples won 8-0.

“He didn’t have a lot of size,” Lane recalls.  He was about 5-7, 160 pounds — small even for that era.

“But he was a great tackler, a real student of the game,” Lane says.  “He was a real leader.”

“He led by example,” former teammate Tommy Nistico — now the owner of the Red Barn restaurant — adds.  “A wonderful guy.”

“Joe was one tough kid!” marvels another ex-teammate, Nick Albertson — a longtime teacher and coach at Deerfield Academy.

Joe didn’t get a lot of glory.  But without him — and teammates Nistico, Albertson, Bobby Lynam, Buddy Lynch and Brad Steen — there would have been few Steve Booth and Dave Lindsay heroics that year.  Especially that day.

After college Joe moved south.  He became a very successful businessman — he was CEO of several small companies — and a loving father.

He called his former teammates regularly, to check up and make sure his guys were okay.  It’s what a good captain does — long after he stops playing.

He never spoke about any of his own health issues, like diabetes.  He preferred talking about his wife Jean, their children, and hunting and fishing.

Joe Murray died a few days ago in Columbia, South Carolina, from complications during gall bladder surgery.  His ashes will be commingled with those of his beloved dog Blue, and spread across the Gulf of Mexico.

His teammates already miss him dearly.  “He was a special person,” said longtime friend and former Wrecker Bobby Lynam.

“I know his passing has left a hole in your heart as it has in mine.  But as long as we remember him he lives on.”

Don’t worry.  No one can forget that special 1967 championship team — or its heart and soul, Joe Murray.