Roundup: Wakeman Town Farm; Beechwood Arts; Barber And Bread Closings; More

Posted on June 23, 2020 | 14 comments

The latest Westport institution to reopen is Wakeman Town Farm.

They’re doing it slowly. First they offer private farm visits, with a tour guide (optional).

Kids and parents will enjoy vegetable and pollinator gardens, beehives and animals (alpacas, goats, sheep, ducks, chickens, bunnies, even alpacas).

Tours are every Saturday morning through July, in 3 time slots: 9-9:45, 10-10:45 and 11-11:45.

Registration (click here) is first-come, first-served. The fee supports animal care and farm maintenance.

Justin Paul and his family enjoyed a recent Wakeman Town Farm tour.

The AMPLIFY Festival — Beechwood Arts’ supportive showcase for black artists and performers — continues this week. All performances begin at 7 p.m.

Today (Tuesday, June 22), Kahyree Jannah reads his poem “You’re Killing Me Again,” and violist Amadi Azikiwe performs works by Coleridge Taylor Perkinson and Jessie Montgomery.

Tomorrow (Wednesday, June 24), writer/actor Iyaba Ibo Mandingo shares the fears of a black father whose children live in “the crosshairs of America.” He’ll perform a piece inspired by, and performed under, Beechwood’s 400-year-old copper beech tree.

Thursday, June 25 features poetry slam champion Tarishi Midnight Shuler, as well as the Delphi Dance Company.

On Friday, June 26, jazz vocalist Frederick Johnson leads a conversation on bringing people together through the power of words and music.

Click here to access the performances — and see those still archived from last week’s AMPLIFY Festival.

Compo Barber Shop — an institution in Compo Shopping Center for nearly 60 years — is closing. The final day for business is this Friday (June 26).

Tommy Ghianuly opened the shop, and ran it until his death in January 2019. New owners took over the next month.

The good news is, all of Compo Barber’s staff is moving to Westport Hair & Co. That’s the salon next to now-closed Olympia Sports, a few yards east in the same Compo Shopping Center.

They look forward to carrying on the 6-decade leagcy in their new shared space.

And they made a deal with Compo Barber’s owner to keep Tommy’s old phone number: 203-227-9779.

Another closure, this one reported by a reader: Panera Bread in Westport.

A phone call to the Post Road East store went unanswered, as did an email sent to the corporate press office. If anyone knows anything about this location, please click “Comments” below.

The Panera Bread near HomeGoods.

And finally … all the recent talk about Confederate flags and monuments made me think of this:

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Zoe Brown: An Eloquent 20s Voice, For 2020

Posted on June 23, 2020 | 8 comments

At Staples Zoe Brown served as editor-in-chief of the school paper Inklings and co-president of the Teen Awareness Group, and played field hockey.

She graduated last month from the University of Southern California where she studied communication and cinematic arts, founded the Girls Who Read book club, and was a Hillel leader.

Zoe started her blog, Coast Confused, in 2015 just before graduating from Staples and switching coasts. 

She is moving back to Los Angeles this week, to search for a job in entertainment. Her goal is to become a literary manager and producer, or a showrunner and creator like Dan Fogelman.

Zoe Brown: proud graduate, in her home town.

The other day Zoe woke up with many confused feelings. She watched videos of her favorite writer, Marina Keegan, doing spoken word poetry, then put down her own thoughts. The resulting blog story is a wonderful piece of writing: powerful, insightful, honest, raw, personal yet universal. I’m honored to re-post it here. 

Lately, I’ve been driving with my windows down, blasting music, mostly songs about feeling lonely, sad or about wishing for love. You know, “Modern Loneliness” or “Sad Forever” by Lauv or “Dive” by Ed Sheeran. I secretly hope that someone will shout out to me, saying they like my music and that we should hang out. I do have friends, but I miss meeting new people and getting to know them, while getting to know myself more at the same time. I miss that moment when handshakes turns into hugs, and names turn into nicknames. I always remember the first time someone calls me “Zo.” Mostly, though, I miss touch and attention.

It’s hard right now, for so many reasons. It’s hard to grieve people killed for reasons that make less than no sense, to grieve normalcy and touch and the job I would have been starting soon, had things gone as planned (they rarely do). It’s hard to grieve in general but even harder without a warm hug or a supportive pat on the back from friends or family.

I thrive off of touch, off the electricity I feel when my hand grasps the hand of the cute boy from school on our first date at the movies, or when I cuddle with my best friend on her couch and she falls asleep so I have to sneak out so she doesn’t wake up. I’m going to see my Grandmom in Philly soon, and I can’t even hug her. I can’t hug my favorite lovely lady on Earth, who lost her husband, my Grandpop, not even a year ago. She probably hasn’t hugged anyone in 4 months. Then again, neither have I, besides when I “hug” my sister and she doesn’t hug me back (she doesn’t always like to be touched) or when I remind my dad “I am moving to LA for good” so he agrees to wrap his arms around his little girl quickly, one more time for now.

Zoe Brown

I started watching “When Harry Met Sally” the other day and in the very start, there’s a make out scene. It’s a closeup of two people making out in a park and it looked so gross to me that I didn’t keep watching the movie that night. Kissing seems gross to me. I have probably kissed a hundred boys at this point, and I don’t think I ever want to kiss one again. Maybe that’s dramatic, but I guess it’s just so clear to me right now, because I’ve had to be so careful about germs, that it is GROSS. Swiveling your tongue around in the inside of a random person’s dirty mouth, ew!

But at the same time, I can’t wait to kiss again. I can’t wait to see that look in his eyes and know that he’s about to place his soft lips on mine, or on my cheek and the creases of my neck. And it doesn’t seem so gross after all.

I don’t even know when that will happen, or with who. I know who I want it to happen with. I want to kiss Him again. I capitalized the H in Him when I wrote this without even thinking about it, as if he is God or something. He is most definitely not God, so maybe I should demote him to the lowercase “him,” to just an Angel instead, or maybe a demi-God, in my mind at least.

I imagine him next to me sometimes, like when I’m alone reading on a chair at the beach or driving to pick up food. I hope that doesn’t sound too sad or weird and I especially hope it doesn’t sound creepy. I just miss him, and I feel like I don’t even deserve to miss him. I don’t know him that well after all and I’m sure he doesn’t miss me. Why do I get to miss him? But then again, I also miss the smell of my best friend’s hair, the taste of buttery movie theater popcorn, and the sound of pen on paper and professors lecturing about whatever it is I used to learn in school.

So why can’t I miss him? Who am I to tell myself who I can and cannot miss? I mean, at least I’m not missing that other him (definitely lowercase), the one who stomped on my heart like he was killing a spider in the shower, with intention and no regrets.

I miss my favorite writer, Marina Keegan. I never even knew her, besides through her writing. She was 22 when she died, right after she graduated from Yale. In one of her spoken word poetry sets, she said “I want to have time to be in love with everything.” I do, too. I want to hug my best friend when I go to her house to congratulate her on getting her first job. I want to high-five my friend’s mom after we run a solid two miles together in the New England heat. I want to look next to me and actually see him, and give his hand a quick squeeze to let him know I’m glad that I’m not only imaging him next to me anymore.

Zoe Brown, browsing at The Last Bookstore iin Santa Monica.

I want to be in love with my country, my home, this beautiful Earth. I definitely am not right now. I am proud of so much of the effort from everyone, to better themselves and fight for justice with racism, police brutality, and everything else that’s so fucked up in America. I am not proud of my President. I am proud of the Supreme Court, for its ruling to protect LGBTQ+ people in the workplace. I am not proud of the police. I am proud of myself, for selling postcards to raise money to support black emotional and mental health. I am not proud of my friends who are not taking this pandemic seriously. I am proud of my friends and those who are taking it seriously and the doctors who are fighting to save people and create a vaccine. I am proud of the people who stand back up over and over again after being shoved down repeatedly, because as long as they keep standing, they keep winning.

I am glad to be alive, but I am also sad and uncomfortable. It feels like I was living on a rug on top of a bunch of spikes and someone ripped the rug right out from beneath me. Now I live standing on the spikes, so I have to be careful of my every step but no matter how I stand, it always kind of hurts.

I know that the rug will be replaced one day, and I am hopeful that it will be a better rug, too, one made with more care, respect and understanding than the last.

I hope that this world becomes better because of everything it’s going through. I know I’ve become better because of my struggles. Even though I am hurting now, I am hopeful that the world we live in will come out of this a stronger, brighter, and better one.

(To read more of Zoe Brown’s blog, click here.)

Zoe Brown, hiking in the Los Angeles hills.

 

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Posted in Environment, People, Politics, Staples HS

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Pic Of The Day #1162

Posted on June 22, 2020 | 1 comment

Seen on the Saugatuck, from Rive Bistro (Photo/Larry Untermeyer)

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Main Street Makeover

Posted on June 22, 2020 | 16 comments

If you haven’t been to Main Street in a while — since, say, yesterday — you’ll find quite a transformation.

To enhance social distancing, parking has been eliminated through August on the one-way stretch between Pop’TArt Gallery and Vineyard Vines.

And to enhance its beauty, the Westport Downtown Merchants Association (and 8 volunteers) planted 36 planters in those former parking spots.

There’s more room to walk around. It looks a lot better when you do. And the DMA is coordinating volunteers to make sure the new additions (and the other plantings on poles) will be watered all summer.

PS: There is plenty of parking available. And now it’s all unrestricted. No time limits — no worries!

The planting project was coordinated and led by Jacqui Bidgood and Deborah Herbertson.

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Roundup: Y Reopens; SportsPal; More

Posted on June 22, 2020 | 6 comments

The Westport Weston Family YMCA reopened today, more than 3 months after it closed.

Members were thrilled to return. And staff — including popular Aquafit instructor Patty Kondub (below) — were thrilled to see them.

When the coronavirus struck, 2018 Staples graduate Zach Feinstein helped create Urlist: a home delivery shopping service.

Over 200 orders later, there’s a new concern beyond groceries. With camps closed and other activities curtailed, Zach — a former Staples High basketball and lacrosse player, now majoring in communications at the University of Maryland — has developed a new app: SportsPal.

it connects college and high school athletes throughout the tri-state region with younger athletes, for personal sports training or helping achieve an active lifestyle. Zach makes sure to select athletes who can not only teach, but also mentor and support youngsters.

For more information, click here or check out @sportspaltraining on Instagram.

Zach Feinstein

And finally … Teenear refuses to live her life in fear. Hear, hear!

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Posted in Media, Sports, Staples HS, YMCA

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in Greens Farms, A Meadow Grows

Posted on June 22, 2020 | 11 comments

For decades, Westporters have watched meadows disappear. New homes replace open space. Natural grass gives way to well-manicured, well-meaning — yet artificial-looking — lawns.

It’s hard to imagine a new meadow being created anywhere. But it’s happening on Prospect Road.

John and Melissa Ceriale are already Westport heroes for the beauty they’ve brought to Greens Farms. Gardens, trees, bushes and walking paths fill their 8-acre property.

Looking northeast, on the Ceriales’ property.

The couple — noted philanthropists and volunteers — have a vision. Noted landscape designer Cindy Shumate brings it to life.

And they’re in it for the long haul. “In 40 years, the trees we’re planting now will be magnificent,” Cindy says.

Right now, it’s the meadow that’s drawing raves.

Early this spring, Cindy planted 4,600 3-inch perennial plugs on an acre of land, at the far end of #25 Prospect. They’ll grow in slashes, she says, self-sowing in the lawn grass to create a “wild meadow.”

Already, that lawn grass is 18 to 20 inches high. It moves in the wind. “So beautiful and natural,” Cindy says. “It’s what anyone’s lawn would look like if they stopped mowing.”

The Prospect Road meadow.

She likens her role to a painter. Instead of a brush, her medium is plants.

Neighbors notice.

“People out on their COVID walks pass by,” Cindy says. “They’re curious. I wave, and they come over to the stone wall to talk.”

One man stared as he drove by. Then he backed up to chat, and learn more.

“Everyone is amazed that someone would purchase a piece of land and not put a home on it,” Cindy says. “But John and Melissa have a larger perspective. As they add land, they’re putting this parcel together so that it really works with nature.”

A parcel of land with gardens, walking paths, and now a meadow. What is Westport coming to?

(Hat tip: Samuel Wang)

Pyramid grasses on Prospect Road.

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Posted in Environment, People

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Pic Of The Day #1161

Posted on June 21, 2020 | 6 comments

Gray’s Creek (Photo/Michael Tomashefsky)

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Roundup: Rotary; Reactive Attachment Disorder; Rocks; More

Posted on June 21, 2020 | 4 comments

A little pandemic can’t keep Westport’s Sunrise Rotary club down.

Every April, they do a volunteer clean-up in town. The lockdown postponed this year’s event. But yesterday the members were out in force, ridding the I-95 Exit 17 parking lot of trash.

It was just like old times. Except for the masks.

Westporters have been intrigued by a Ford Escort at the train station.

During the pandemic it sat for weeks in the same spot. Last week it finally vanished. Some folks were pleased because it seemed the driver was okay; others wondered if the car had been towed, because the driver was not okay.

Well, the Ford is back. But now I’ve got another question:

There are hundreds of empty spots in the lot. Why does he (or she) choose such a random place to park?

(Photo/Curtis Lueker)

Bridgewater got Paul Podolsky to Westport. The 1991 Brown University grad  liked the town so much, he moved here.

Five weeks ago — after more than 20 years with the firm — he retired. His goal is to write full time. Judging by his memoir — released today — he’s got another great career.

Raising a Thief is the powerful, insightful and searingly truthful story of the orphan girl Podolsky and his wife adopted from Russia. They imagined she’d blend in well with their son, and enjoy all the wonders of Westport.

But she suffered from Reactive Attachment Disorder — a condition in which a child who has suffered physical or emotional neglect or abuse cannot form a healthy emotional bond with new parents.

Sonya lies and steals. She has an eating disorder, and tries to jump out of a window.

It’s a difficult story to read. It must have been even harder to live through — and then write.

Yet, Podolsky notes, Bridgewater helped. “The culture is all about radical honesty. I was accustomed to that.”

Founder Ray Dallio says of the book: “I am passionage about understanding how people think, and why … This book offers an invaluable picture about how the earliest childhood experiences shape thinking. I recommend it for all parents.”

Podolsky’s wife became a therapist, and now treats struggling families. They — and anyone with an interest in the human condition — will appreciated Raising a Thief. 

As for Podolsky, his next book is fiction. It’s based on his work in international finance, specifically China and Russia.

For more information and to buy Raising a Thief, click here.

Paul Podolsky

They’re the gifts that keep on giving.

From the earliest days of the coronavirus, stones bearing uplifting messages have been spotted around town.

They’re at Grace Salmon Park. Outisde the police station. On Burying Hill Beach.

Yesterday, Lauri Weiser spotted this particularly pretty one. Rock on, Westport!

And finally … summer arrived yesterday. Of the squintillion summer songs, this Gershwin tune — and this Billy Stewart version — stands at the top.

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Posted in Children, Media, Organizations, People, Transportation

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Photo Challenge #286

Posted on June 21, 2020 | 18 comments

I knew last week’s Photo Challenge would be tough. But I also thought that since many Wesptorters have been taking long walks during the pandemic, more folks than usual might have spotted the banner with Paul Newman’s smiling face that was the featured shot.

Nope.

The only 2 readers who knew were artist/designer Miggs Burroughs (who seemed to have inside knowledge, when he wrote “studio garage behind 25 Imperial Avenue; it was conceived and created by the late internationally renowned futurist Watts Wacker”) and Jeff Kaufman (who, by noting “I have an unfair advantage,” must mean he works at that small office complex).

The banner is visible from a few vantage points near the police station. So, if you’re still out taking a COVID walk, check it out. (Click here for the photo.)

This week’s Photo Challenge should be much easier. If you know where in Westport you’d see this, click “Comments” below.

(Photo/Kathie Motes Bennewitz)

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Young Adult Author Picks The Right Time To Write

Posted on June 21, 2020 | 4 comments

Caroline Barney began writing The Trebors 4 years ago.

An adventure novel for middle school youngsters, it’s about a race of creatures that established a civilization in an enormous, mysterious tree that was shaken by a powerful storm. As the characters grapple with something larger than themselves, they — and Barney’s readers — learn about the power of community.

Caroline Barney

When she began, the Westport mother 2 had no idea it would be published in the midst of a pandemic that is teaching those some lessons to children everywhere.

In her previous career, Barney was an advertising professional. When her second daughter was born, she moved into the non-profit and freelance world. But, she says, “I’d been a writer in my heart forever.”

Four years ago, walking in woods with her dog, she saw a tree door. Imagining an entire world outside, she came up with her story.

But she could never have imagined the story that is unfolding now.

Barney says, “we are at the precipice of a changed world. I really believe in the next generation. I think we can all be united. If we frame what is happening today in the right way, we have the power to help kids see there’s hope for a better world.”

The author certainly walks the talk. She’s donating 50% of the proceeds from The Trebors to Save the Children. The organization — now based in Fairfield, but for many years headquartered on Wilton Road — has been part of her life for decades. Her mother worked there.

In college, Barney interned there. While studying abroad, she visited a field office in Cameroon. Recently, she worked for the non-profit as a freelance writer.

The book was published on June 1. Coincidentally, that’s the day Save the Children launched “Read a Story, Change Their Story.” The 100-day campaign aims to curb summer learning loss, while providing support and resources for kids in rural America.

There’s no better story for them to read than The Trebors — a story about changes, in our ever-changing world.

(To order The Trebors, click here.)

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