by Jarret Liotta

WESTPORT — It sincerely lifted my heart to see so many dedicated WJ readers take the time to emotionally lambaste me regarding last week’s column in which I interviewed Westport parent “Auntie Bellum.”

It shows you’re paying attention and I admire you for that (if little else). And even though you found my unusually intelligent and witty work of satire tasteless, shocking, ugly, appalling, blech!, contemptible, crass, yecch!, classless, inappropriate, obnoxious, unprofessional, divergent, diarrhetic and tantamount to rank-scented squid kaka, I know you & I are part of the same virulent machine rattling its precarious way toward a better-imagined tomorrow in America …

And The Winner …

More importantly, your rabid critiques point squarely to the great power of zeal.

They reminded me of that scene in Godfather Part II, when Michael visits Havana and witnesses a rebel suicide bomber blowing himself up in a car full of Batista military.

“What does that tell you?” a twitching Lee Strasberg — who looks remarkably like a tiny baked potato that was left in the microwave too long — asks him at the balcony birthday party.

“That they can win!” Michael says.

I’ll leave everyone to think about that while I consider what Diane Keaton, a.k.a. Kay Corleone, would have called, “This Rus-sian thing.”

Wait! Isn’t that guy with them?

I thought he was with them. He’s not with them?

You’ll forgive my galloping ignorance — (or you won’t!) — but I thought this greasy Red leader who’s causing all this base & rank trouble in the Ukraine was great buddies with our last president and that he had already vouched for him.

Am I missing something? I mean, I know our security agencies recently expressed considerable concern that the Russians had infiltrated our country virtually — interfering with the elections and that sort of thing — but wasn’t that all forgiven by the last administration because this leader seemed to be such a nice guy?

If that’s the case, why are we not supporting his decision to start conquering adjacent countries?

I mean, he probably has his reasons, as he did with infiltrating our homeland security.

Why aren’t we giving him the benefit of the doubt, as we have with others? Aren’t we being a bit too suspicious and reactionary, based on what people have been drumming into our little melonheads?!

I guess it somehow must be the fault of the current administration, as the newly risen sign among signs on the corner of Weston & Easton Roads explains so broadly, vehemently and zealously …

Hey, What do I know?! I’m just a vaguely dashing vagabond wag — despite my lack of credible dimples — just striving to make the ladies on both sides of the aisle crack an uncontrolled smile to help set them free …

Eye of the Beholder (or Beholden)

Speaking of unsightly dimples, am I the only mesmerized dolt struck awestruck by the enormous trash compacting complex that continues to flourish and expand in the middle of Parker-Harder Plaza?

Once upon a time there was a little green dumpster at each end of the parking lot half-hidden behind a rickety fence. (Some of us would have called it quaint, but we’re the same weirdos who consider the active vermin gallivanting around the river part of our vanishing natural world in Westport.)

In an effort to beautify Parker-Harding, these two dumpsters were removed about three years ago in exchange for two mammoth trash compactors.

While these are three-times greater in length, much wider, higher and capable of awful sounds and smells when put to use, they’re painted brown instead of green, so they’re not supposed to be as noticeable.

While this has, of course, beautified the south end of the lot and allowed even more cars to idle there in front of Starbucks or complete intricate U-turns amidst the pedestrians, the north end of the lot seems to have merely only attracted another dumpster … albeit a brown one.

I’d like to complain, but I’m afraid of being harangued by zealous members of the public for bringing light to my beliefs …

“Oh, come on!!” —Chandler Bing

As someone who lives well below Westport’s median poverty line, I’m obviously kinda stupid. (I wish my detractors would consider that before chastising me next time.)

Yet I still can’t begin to get my head around why it’s so hard to build affordable housing.

I applaud the efforts of trying to make the West Parish Road project happen — Yes, people, I do applaud things now and again! — though I am still confused why it can’t be 100-percent affordable, versus 80-90 percent.

Further, I’m relatively convinced many more units will fit there based on an imaginary feasibility study I conducted in my head.

So I say we get right to work — buying shovels, nails, that sort of thing — and put up 60 or 70 small units.

As one of Westport’s well-known undesirables, I can assure neighbors that despite their embarrassingly low income, these new residents will be lovely gentle people merely happy to find a home amidst blessed company.

Hidden Gem

Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t report my remarkable visit to The Westport Library’s cafe this week.

Having twice been evicted from Starbucks following their weird early and sudden closures, I was thrilled to find not only solace, but outstanding soup and sandwich at the library.

The staff was beyond pleasant — unlike certain chains, where I was cautioned I couldn’t read Madame Bovary while drinking a skim latte — and best of all the view of the river was exquisite.

I hate to give away such a secret — especially as I really don’t want to see any of you there when I’m eating my scone — but it has to be among the best spots in town!

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