I’ve been noodling this for a while: what to do with Bridgeport’s decommissioned candy-striped smokestack, a reminder of the city’s pollutant past. The group tasked by the state to clean and redevelop the site into a mixed-use of housing and retail says it’s gotta go, incorporating the skyline icon impractical, a late September date scheduled for a stiff, early-morning implosion.
But, what if the stack could be erect in a different way?
Near the mountainside resort in Taormina, Sicily I heard about Bar Turrisi, founded in 1947 in the aftermath of WW II as a specialty in almond-infused white wine caressed with herbs and citrus.
Espresso with your twins.
This was a period when when outcasts from the gay and creative communities gravitated to the area such as Truman Capote and Liz Taylor. Glory be, what was that conversation like?
Anyhoo, in the tradition of Greek-Sicilian potent artistry, this place became a phallus haven for creatives: walls, toilet faucets, doorknobs, glasses, statues, lamps, even the menu adorned in phallic shapes.
Elephants might be envious.
This is the world’s first penis-themed bar, saluting fertility and food, vegan-friendly at that, in keeping with the au naturel theme. Patrons, men and women, love this place and keep coming back.
What do you think?
In case you’re wondering, the Sicilian word for penis is minchia. The ch sound however is like a hard g, no pun intended, more like ming-ya.
How’s that for a happy ending?
Lennie, this commentary is right down Robert Teixeras’ lane. OIB webmaster is reporting a 950% increase in viewership from Bridgeport City Hall. I hope the Penis doesn’t explode like Mount Etna. Salad Dressing anyone?