The Luna Park Gazette

I’ve seen a few dogs in the theater over the years, but the one I spotted recently really stands out. This was the real thing--as in the four-legged kind--a little lap dog I had the pleasure of meeting on my birthday last month while attending a performance of Long Day’s Journey into Night at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. This little fellow—I think he was a fellow—was perched on the lap of a woman sitting in the audience and I spotted them as I was returning to my seat during intermission. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I always feel comfortable talking to total strangers in the theater. Perhaps it’s because of the live actors on the stage or the fact that we all share a love for this singular art form, but, whatever the reason, I can chat up people I’ve never met before in a way that I wouldn’t even think of doing in a multiplex. So, when I saw this lady and her dog, I just had to stop and talk. “Is that a comfort dog?” I asked. “No,” the lady said in a distinct...

Like all kids, I hated going to the doctor. I feared being poked with needles, dreaded having that tongue depressor thing jammed down my throat, and absolutely hated wasting so much time in the waiting room when I could be outside raising all kinds of hell. Now there was this one day fine spring day when I had to go the doctor to get a booster shot. Today of course I know full well the importance of checkups, but back then I felt like I was walking the last mile. My dad had been doing some home repairs that morning and he sent me around the corner to Windsor Lock, the neighborhood hardware store—back when we had neighborhood hardware stores—to get several items including lightbulbs and two short pieces of wire. Off I went, relying on nothing but my memory of what my father had told me to complete the order. When I returned a short time later, I handed the bag over to my father—and he promptly went nuts. He was so happy and so proud of me for getting every single thing he wan...

When it’s someone close to you, it’s always too soon. I was in grammar school when I had my first dental appointment with Dr. Ronald Cohen. I was terrified, convinced that I was going to suffer unspeakable torment as this stranger sadistically yanked all of the teeth out of my head. When I completed all the various forms, I nervously handed them over to Mabel, Dr. Cohen’s nurse, and briefly thought about running out the door. This was in early May and when Mable checked my birth date, she gave me a lovely smile. “You’ve got a birthday coming up,” she said. I was confused. The torturer’s assistant was being nice to me? Isn’t she supposed to laugh like a lunatic and shove me into the arms of the drill-wielding psycho? It turns out that I may have overreacted a little bit. Mabel was a wonderful woman and when Dr. Cohen came out to greet me, I found him to be a kind, gentle man who only wanted to keep me healthy. And he would be my family’s dentist for nearly 50 years. Mab...

I’ve always believed that the Seventies was a bad time for music, but a great period for movies. Now, to be honest, I do enjoy a handful of disco era hits, but I think even the most stalwart Studio 54 devotee would have to look back at that decade’s soundtrack and ask, “wow, what the hell were we thinking?” And don’t even get me started on the clothes. However, it’s important to note that while the clubs were busy thumping humanity into a stupor, Hollywood was igniting movie screens with such classics as Dog Day Afternoon, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Chinatown, and Serpico , to name a few. I recently caught up with Cinderella Liberty , another film from that era, and while I wouldn’t necessarily call it great, it’s certainly damn good. I saw this film with my parents in the old Fortway theater when I was a sophomore in high school. I hadn’t seen it or even thought about it since, but then Turner Classic Movies ran it a few months ago and it was sitting patiently in my DV...