No, you look me in the eye! Or, "how can we make better biodiesel if we don't blow up a Jewish flag?"

A little late than never, but this story appeared last week (4/8/08) on Masslive.com.

NORTHAMPTON - A teenager accused of making explosive materials and blowing up a flag pleaded innocent to all charges today.

John E. Robison Jr., 17, of 23 Dartmouth St., South Hadley, was arraigned in Hampshire Superior Court this afternoon on three counts of malicious explosion and one count of willful placing of explosives near property. Robison was released on his own recognizance.

At the request of assistant Northwestern District Attorney Alice E. Perry, Judge Judd J. Carhart ruled that as a condition of Robison's release, he must not possess any chemicals, report to a probation officer by phone once a week and must live with his father, John Elder Robison of Amherst.

Robison's legal saga will resume on May 20, when an out-of-court pretrial conference has been scheduled. A pretrial hearing will then be held in court on June 26.

During the arraignment, Perry said Robison videotaped himself blowing up a flag using chemicals he mixed at the South Hadley home owned by his mother, Mary L. Robison. Perry also said the chemicals discovered there included some of the same ones used in the fatal London subway bombings in July 2005 and possessed by Richard Reid, the so-called "Shoe Bomber" who unsuccessfully tried to blow up an airliner in December 2001.

John Robison's lawyer, David P. Hoose of Springfield, said in court he was unaware of the accusation against his client of possessing such deadly materials.

"This is the first I've heard of anything," Hoose said, adding, "This kid doesn't have a malicious bone in his body."

After the arraignment, Hoose added that Robison did not blow up a flag, but declined to elaborate. "When the proof is done, you'll see it wasn't a flag at all," Hoose said.

State and federal authorities raided the South Hadley home on Feb. 15 and discovered John Robison's home laboratory. Officials from the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, the Massachusetts Fire and Explosion Investigation Unit, and the state hazardous materials response team removed chemicals from the laboratory and exploded them at the town landfill.

A portion of Dartmouth Street was closed for three days as officials entered and exited the home. South Hadley Fire District 1 Fire Chief William J. Judd hopes to recover the $17,619 his department spent on the incident. Labor alone has been placed at $8,844.

In addition, Judd has said he has seen footage on the Internet site YouTube of the local teenager detonating explosives near high-tension wires, but the video was later pulled from the Web site.

The interesting thing about this story is the synergy swirling around this family. Let's review: John Robison Jr., son of author John Elder Robison, nephew of author Augusten Burroughs, who's new book "A Wolf at the Table: A Memoir of My Father" is perhaps the most compelling of his "stories" thus far. It seems the Robison boys are hard-wired for eccentricity and non-traditional exploits.

In the interest of fairness, I believe all the flag blowing-up business is nonsense and that David Hoose will brilliantly defend his client (my lady-friend and I called it!).

Chicopee's Rivoli Theater--Another Disappointment

In the late 70’s as a child growing up under extraordinary circumstances (religious extremism and an alcoholic parent), my only healthy outlet besides fishing and a paper route was to attend viewings of films at the Rivoli Theater in Chicopee. Generally the fare was the latest crop of kid-friendly films, such as Benji, Pippi Longstocking, and Star Wars. While my memory is shaky at best, there were other viewing possibilities such as a documentary on Noah’s Ark (endorsed by my parents) and some weird supernatural film about an American Indian boy who turns into an eagle.

The theater was a respite from an unsettled life, its panoramic view of stars and constellations on the ceiling, its delicious concession stand, and its momentary freedom from adult supervision was a tonic to my soul. I recall the visage of the theater as Chicopee’s only impressive landmark that guided my path between downtown and home. In those days, kids were routinely allowed free range to move about—predators did not dominate our consciousness. For a mere two dollars, an afternoon of respite from adults and reality was yours to be had. Mrs. Old-Lady-in-a-Hairnet would take your money and give you a ticket to another world. Once ensconced in the moldy velvet seats, feet sticking to gum, soda and other materials, the movie would begin—magic ensued.

Benji was a seminal movie for me. It encapsulated all that I aspired to—having a dog whose intellect outshined all the stupid adults that I knew. Plus, he was furry and kind of gnarly. I bought every sort of ephemera connected to that damn dog, from mugs to books that serialized Benji’s super-“human” exploits. At the tender age of ten, Benji was the shit. I related to Benji’s adventures, connecting on a molecular level to eating garbage out of dumpster, and dressing in drag for the sake of a giggle. Benji was the cold war answer to the Super Powers—a dog who could escape villains, become invisible at a moment’s notice, or shape-shift when needed (I made that up). Benji’s dojo was Joe Camp, an irascible animal trainer with a hobo’s beard who had trained previous television animals to stardom. Camp believed that Stalin was the biznitch and that any animal employed in the service of socialism could move a million marchers towards the goal of communism. I lie. He had nothing to do with that. Benji was not subversive. Benji was camp—the evil opposite of subversive. But I digress.

The Rivoli began to wind down in the early 80’s, and settled into an abandoned repose. There were a few attempts at resuscitating the beloved, grand theater—but with all things Chicopee, those overtures were rebuffed. The residents of Chicopee found no use for culture, atmosphere and tradition. Their interests were lower taxes, free parking lots and electing a succession of bad politicians in a row. Like any sensible individual, I moved away from Chicopee’s rapid decline and moved to a large cosmopolitan city that had Friday night viewings of the Rocky Horror Picture Show and public transportation. The Rivoli was all but forgotten in my mind, and rarely did Benji cross my radar.

Fast forward to 2000’s and hark! word on the street is that developer Konrad Wargulewski of New York City has purchased the theater and the building it houses. Since that purchase, the new owner has re-modeled the office spaces, done some structural renovations to the theater’s façade, stalled with further renovations to the theater in the hopes of garnering some capital from other sources. In the meantime, Mr. Wargulewski has conceptualized his vision of restoring the theater to its original luster by creating a “European” style nightclub, which would also screen films. According to Mayor Mike Bissonnette, “Chicopee is Western, Massachusetts’s best kept secret,” and that’s just the way city leaders would like to keep it, if the current slow pace of the Rivoli’s renovation is any indication.

Who needs progress or a European style dance club if no one cares? According to the Reminder, “The Rivoli, when it re-opens will have a capacity for 1,480 people. The facility will have a second floor mezzanine and Konrad Wargulewski explained that is why the excavation took place: to prepare a place for the footings to hold the second floor structure.There will also be a VIP lounge that will hold 88 people in the plans he showed the mayor. Konrad clearly wants the new theater to reflect its past. The poster boxes will be refinished and used again. He will install 215 permanent seats and they will be part of the theater's original 1,280 seats. He has restored the theater's ticket booth, which was tightly wrapped with cloth and tape. Pointing to a water fountain, he said that would stay as well. He has removed the vintage movie projector and had it refurbished as well. Although the ceiling has been removed, the theater's trademark stars are still there and will be retained, he said.”

That being said, Chicopee like any other urban downtown, needs ample parking space as it does not rely on subways, buses or trolleys (much less horses and bicycles), and this pie-in-the-sky notion that a hip nightclub will transform Chicopee center is at best, the worst business plan in the world or drunk talk.

It took nearly a decade before our intrepid Polish developer began to conceptualize his vision of his new property. It’s been several years since the first phase of renovations of the Rivoli took place. I suspect, like anything else involving the moribund downtown Chicopee area, with this project there will be a collective scratching of the head…“whatever happened to the Rivoli Theater?”