part 3: something strange this way comes to new canaan

it did come as a mild surprise that dogs are allowed in movie theaters in new canaan: hence when pops loaded cassio into the escalade (yes pops drives an escalade like a rapper) i said: whoa, we can't leave cassio in this heat in a locked car. pops and moms both answered: we aren't. he's going in with us.
now a dog named cassio. for those of you who know that cassio was supposedly othello's nemesis in shakespeare's "othello,"understand that all descriptions of cassio state that he is a stone cold fox. check out franco zeferelli's film of the verdi opera with placido domingo: ever the homo, zeferelli chooses the most beautiful blonde guy to play cassio and the contrast between big, burly, "black" othello (actually "otello" in the opera) and blonde, beautiful, foxy cassio only adds fuel to the fire, as it were, to othello's crazy obsession with desdemona's infidelity which involves a hankerchief, a nasty aide-de-camp, iago and cassio writhing naked on the floor. great gay images, cheesy opera images. oh well.
anyway: cassio, the rottweiler (yes, i bet you thought that he was a poodle or cream lab, right?) follows all six of us (moms, pops, gloria, dennis, jonas and me) into the theater playing the new woody allen film, vicky cristina barcelona.
btw: the evil jonas got us all stoned on the way to the theater including cassio so we were happy, loopy and ready for some woody allen charm and wit.
but first: the movie snacks: huge tubs of buttered corn, hot dogs for all, 2 butterfingers for me and huge vats of diet pepsi. jonas buys 2 (count them 2) orders of nachos with enough plastic cheese to clog all of our arteries.
the theater is full and so we have to sit in the first row and i think to myself: hmmm, first row...that means that there are 400 people behind us. then i began to eat popcorn, watch the commercials (how did this ever get started?), previews and then the film.
the movie: people have been waiting for allen to make another "annie hall" for 30 years and you need to face the facts: he is not nor does he want to, i would imagine.
"vicky cristina barcelona" is not the best woody allen film nor the worst but one thing it has going for it are the sterling performances by javier bardem, scarlett johansson and in a supporting role, penelope cruz who chews the scenery with relish. if cruz never spoke another word of english it would cool with me because when she does (speak english that is) she sounds like a doofus and her acting ability goes down the drain: it's as if the strain of mouthing the words in english takes so much out of her that she cannot emote. anyway, she is a hoot as bardem's ex who refuses to believe that he is done with her. when she is speaking her native spanish she mows over the delicate johansson and can match acting chops with bardem who is sexy as all hel in this film.
all to be expected i guess from a man who has given us both crummy films and some brilliant ones: pretty much on par with most directors who have been making movies for 30 odd years.
what was not expected was jonas leaving the theater saying as he left that he had to go to the head.
we never saw him again that night even when we honored the dinner reservation he made at a local bistro.
we never saw him again the next day though dennis and i went to his house looking for him: he was gone, his car was gone. his house looked the same as in it didn't look like anyone had tried to break in...except for dennis and i. but our reason for breaking in was to find him not rob him.
but no jonas. no jonas' car.
the next morning, pops called the police and reported jonas missing but was told that he had to wait 72 hours to report...blah, blah, blah.
where is jonas? when he left the theater was it to meet a man in the bathroom? we check the hospitals, we check his office: no jonas.
it is now several days later, i am back in nyc and there is still no sign of jonas and now he is officially a missing person.
i remember watching a program the premise of which was how/why people disappeared: this is one of those stories i think.
jonas went to a film stoned, gathered his nachos (i thought that was strange at the time: why take your food into the bathroom...a little weird, heh?), walked up the aisle supposedly to go pee and eat his nachos and poof: disappeared.
in the aforementioned tv program men/women would go out to buy a quart of milk and never return home: never return to their family, their lives...
i think that sometimes i also feel like pulling a jonas: leaving, changing my name, moving to bali and becoming a beachboy or in other words a high priced ho...selling myself for coconut milk and bananas and a gorgeous place to stay. then i remember that bob will miss me. and i heard today from the university that my petition to change phd mentors is approved...so you know what that means.
so guys, that is my story about the strange incident that happened in new canaan: a township rife with beauty and money and dogs named after shakepearean hotties.
peace,
tyler