Woodstock

Yes Virginia, there is an Osama Clause

2011-05-03T06:44:00.001-07:00

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the fatuousness of a fatuous age. They believe what they hear. They believe only which is on the Web. All egos, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are huge. In this great universe of ours, man is a giant, a whale in his intellect as compared with the carbonating world about him, as measured by the intelligence agencies capable of knowing where it’s really at.

Yes, Virginia, Osama may be dead, but there is still the Osama Clause. It exists as certainly as fear and paranoia and control exist, and you know that they abound and give to your nation its fat private banks and depleted public coffers and intrusive airport scrutiny. Yikes! how insouciant would be the world if there were no Osama Clause! It would be as silly and hippy-dippy as if there were no Arby’s and Jack-In-The-Boxes. There would be childlike faith, poetry, romance to make, like, totally groovy this existence. We should have enjoyment, especially in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be lighted well until our Social Security kicks in. Get real, Virginia!

Not believe in the Osama Clause! You might as well not believe in Homeland Security. Our people hired men to comb all Pakistan to nail Osama, but even so, the Osama Clause still permits waterboarding your little friend Faisel’s papa, do what’s the whup? Nobody sees the Osama Clause, but that is no sign that there is no Osama Clause. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor human rights organizations can prevent. Did you ever see gay people dancing on The O’Reilly Factor? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world until they are yanking off one of your fingernails with pliers in a quiet little house in Cuba.

You tear apart the Muslim’s ribcage and see what makes the urge to kill, kill, kill Americans inside, but there is a veil covering the terrorist world, which not the strongest CIA or FBI Director, nor even the united strength of all our Drones that ever flew could tear apart. Only hate, jingoism, Special Ops and Predators can for a moment push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal gore beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else more real and abiding and worthy of bankrupting our nation and scaring its people.

No Osama Clause! Thank God! it lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, it will continue to make glad the heart of control freaks.

Medijuana

2011-04-27T09:56:00.000-07:00

A recent report filed with the Venice, California Police department:

The suspect is male, about sixty years old, has a fairly full head of salt-pepper hair for a man his age, and is average height and weight. His clothes look fresh off a Target rack, and if I had to guess what kind of car he drives I’d say a Honda Civic, white. He gave no hint of potential violent behavior when he entered my clinic on Lincoln Boulevard at about one o’clock this afternoon.

Veronica, my very capable physician’s assistant, took his vitals (which were good for a man his age) and recorded his complaint of chronic lower back pain with occasional excruciating pangs extending down his inner thighs. She then escorted him to my examination room. Veronica, who incidentally has worked for me since I began my practice in 1972 (I started out as a general practitioner) instructed the man to undress, and gave him a gown to wear until I was able to examine him (the Spring break can fill my clinic with UCLA students, and I was running a little behind schedule).

As soon as I entered the examination room the suspect became aggressive, and informed me he wished to see “the real doctor.” He became even angrier when I told him I was the real doctor. He then produced from his pile of clothing the free tabloid publication found anywhere on Abbot Kinney Boulevard advertising my clinic, and asked, “So who’s this?”

By now the Venice police are used to the fact that the medical marijuana clinics in our city are each doing its best to manage chronic pain syndrome, an anguish that afflicts, apparently, a large portion of our citizenry. We do our utmost to spread the word that our walk-in clinics provide ‘real’ doctors (not mere physician’s assistants who cannot prescribe medication), generally for a fee averaging $40.00, and that if a patient is diagnosed with chronic pain syndrome he can leave the clinic not only with a prescription, but also the first dose, generally for an additional fee of about $30.00.

So that our message cannot easily be overlooked, we generally hire, for a fee of about $500.00, an attractive UCLA coed to don a white coat and stethoscope, sometimes a pair of glasses, carefully selected I assure you, and have her photo inserted over the words “Real Doctor Will See You, Not A Physician’s Assistant.”

I looked at the tabloid’s photograph, and sure enough there was Stephanie, a theater major as I recall — yes, I see you have her picture there on the wall — no, I did not realize she offered her image to other publications. Our photographer called it décolletage; you may call it cleavage if you insist, although I, obviously, prefer a professional’s terminology. Remember, the purpose is to make people who needlessly suffer from chronic pain syndrome to know of our services.

The suspect, however, became adamant that “the real doctor” examine him; his particular concern was with the pain shooting down his inner thighs. I explained, perhaps with unnecessary finesse, that ‘Doctor Stephanie’ was on vacation, and that I was perfectly capable of diagnosing his problem and addressing it. The suspect made noise about his “junk.” I assured him I didn’t have to go anywhere near his “junk,” in fact, I explained even ‘Doctor Stephanie’ wouldn’t have needed to, either.

The suspect then shouted loudly about our “operation,” and said that he would take his business to another clinic where they had “real doctors” and not “old quacks” like me. His aggressive behavior became very alarming, especially to some of the patients in the middle of treatment, one of whom emerged from the "quiet room" and tried to calm him with quotes from Vivekananda. Several male patients in my waiting room got up and left with him after he informed them that ‘the babe doctor’ was on vacation. He left without paying the $40.00 examination fee, which I am entitled to for not only Veronica’s taking his vitals, but also the excessive time I had spent with him; my examinations usually last as long as it takes to scribble a prescription.

You will find the suspect, I’m sure, somewhere on Abbot Kinney Boulevard; no doubt he is clutching a copy of the informative brochure financed by me and my fellow practitioners, and probably is harassing a colleague as we speak. I will conclude with the statement — this is no criticism of the Venice Police Department — that the State of California has much work to do to protect the safety and interests of the professionals it has enlisted to battle the scourge of chronic pain syndrome.

[signed] Dr. Malcomb Witherspoon

Owsley, an Ode

2011-03-27T17:04:00.000-07:00

First, my credentials: I did attend a Cream concert at the Denver Coliseum in ’68, but fell asleep. Although a mere fifty miles from the event, I did not attend the ’69 Woodstock Festival, nor once ever lied and said I did. I did attend the 1970 New Year’s Eve Jimi Hendrix concert at the Fillmore East, but fell asleep. If I were French and old enough I would admit I was not in the French Underground.

I posit the above to help you believe the relevant assertion; I did ingest one of the famous Purple Owsley tabs of acid in June, 1967. Oh my God, did I ever.

I was not, and am not the Robert Parker of LSD tasting, but by the tender age of 16 going on 17 my fairly expanded consciousness was able to discern good from bad psychedelic bouquet, and with Owsley’s recent death (from of all things, a car accident) it is fitting to pay tribute to his greatest achievement.

I rolled into Haight soon after ‘Sergeant Pepper’ was unleashed, with ‘Lucy’ skying from every tie-dyed curtained window, halter-tops the eye-boggling rage, the Straight Theatre in full blast, and the San Francisco Oracle office ephemerally posted on 1371 Haight Street. In that stark office foyer I was offered the tab.

The Monterey Pop Festival had just ended days before, which I mention because someone said Owsley whipped up the batch of Purple specifically for that event (which I missed; more cred, no?).

Purple. Such a lovely, tempting purple had never lain in my palm, another testament to Owsley’s absolute combination of science with esthetics. The enticing color overwhelmed my usual half-tab wussiness, and I downed the whole thing.

The Summer Of Love is true and sad, true that there had never been a moment of such generational bond, sad that it evaporated by August. No surprise, six weeks had to be the limit for such a good binge; the effort to maintain the high inevitably unveiled the rather seedy core of peace & love (as George Harrison would identify and complain about later that summer).

But baby, this was June, and who knew?

From the Oracle we wandered into Golden Gate Park (friendships were so easy to strike up), where after just minutes the back of my throat tingled, followed by a radiance felt throughout the body, and then… see how astronauts describe that moment when the engines are fired, and the scaffolding falls away...

Or try; WHOOSH, “tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones and good in every thing…”

Or, perhaps most usefully, abandon astronauts and Shakespeare and summarize the sensation in today’s parlance, :-) :-).

Anyway, with fireworks blazing we were off to the Avalon Ballroom for a Canned Heat concert. While waiting in line, one of my mates went cosmic (a good rehearsal; several months later he would remove everything but his glasses and run down Avenue B in the Lower East Side; it got him out of the draft), but we ushered him inside, and into an environment where a nuclear fuel rod could have melted without attention. Wow, the drummer passed out!

Then it was over to the Spiritual Mother’s place on Frederick, where I would be introduced to the milieu’s version of a den mother; unfortunately she had not yet arrived home from the hospital to where she had been sent a day or so ago after self-introducing an abortifacient with both desired and dire effect. While waiting for her homecoming with several bearded cub scouts, her twelve year old son, dressed as a cowboy, kicked incessantly at my shins. I was told that Owsley tested every new batch on the buckaroo; if true, well, every great man has his smirch, although at the time I thought, gosh, how cool is that?

It was the only trip where I had the honest-to-God ‘white light’ experience. I somehow had shucked off the little buckin’ buckaroo to enter into a quiet meditation, during which the universe vanished, and I looked into the Void, almost white; a little golden glimmer flickered in midst of the infinite expanse, it grew more glittery, it gestated a form, it became a... empty quart carton of Knudsen milk sitting at the top of Spiritual Mother’s garbage pail.

;-) ;-)

She arrived! Indeed, carried in like a pasha and settled on the sofa and immediately provided with a bottle of Ripple from a six-pack (cowboy was, too). She looked a hundred — everybody over thirty did — and to the question, “How was it?” she answered, “Embarrassing, I went into the emergency room crying, ‘My baby, oh, I’ve lost my baby’ [abortion very illegal in ’67] and they find this gigantic spike in my womb.”

What happened after that?

Well, here I am after all these years. Last acid I dropped (and it wasn’t an Owsley; nothing like it) was the day Nixon resigned (I scribbled on a pillow, “Nixon Failed History;” it seemed very clever at the time). Jobs (plural), wife (singular) and kids (two). Been a long, but I wouldn’t say strange trip.

It won’t be long before I’m sucking up the Social Security, and the disposable income my cohort enjoyed in the Haight (did I mention the Free Store?) today’s tykes will never know, what with digging deep to make sure I get my monthly check. I hear that the reefer’s gotten a lot better, but sold for a price no kid wandering into Haight today could possibly afford. That whole era seems like a hallucination; money did buy happiness, at least six weeks of it.

I would say goodbye to Owsley, except I thought he died decades ago, and I’m still weirded out that his name was Owsley Stanley.

So, goodbye to all that Purple Owsley; it sure kept me awake!

No Hell For Becky

2011-03-10T11:37:00.000-08:00

It’s getting tough for Christian baiters, what with the Pope exonerating Jews for the murder of Jesus and evangelist Bob Bell expressing doubt about Hell and eternal damnation; what supple targets are left? Yes, the Virgin Birth, and sundry miracles, but really, what are they compared with God damning all practitioners of a particular faith, or allowing Satan his indestructible Abu Ghraib to house them for eternity?

Doubt first gnawed at me in second grade while watching little Becky Goldberg ply her numbers. Her father, Dr Goldberg, by then several times had stuck me with needles while blathering about polio and tetanus and ignoring my wailing, he had even made my mother complicit in the torture, and my vague understanding that he would spend all his afterlife consumed in flames for killing Jesus was not altogether hideous, but Becky, too?

I’ll just say this about Becky; she was the prettiest, sweetest girl in school, and my faith in the Internet is repeatedly shaken to its core by its inability to locate her. She sat two desks up and one over, and my perfect, uninterrupted view of her made me a casuist. She would go to Hell with her dad for killing Jesus, you see, and right over there sat Billy McKay, who, when not tearing wings from flies or tossing toads into his family’s outdoor incinerator or discovering some new, awful thing to do to stray cats, would beat up his kid sister. And all Billy had to do was ask Jesus’ forgiveness and he wouldn’t go to Hell like Becky, in fact, with the right words he’d have his own cloud, and worse, if he got run over and killed that day he’d even get one of those neat, little bow and arrows to play with in Heaven.

I began then to think God got it all wrong, and I was pretty sore at Him for having made up His mind a long time ago that Becky was going to Hell with her dad (who deserved it). Such had grown my apostasy that I eventually thought Dr. Goldberg deserved a pass, too. Billy McKay was that bad.

Anyway, the Goldbergs became my ammo during my late teens and early adulthood (such a period existed then) whenever some Christian tried to re-enlist me. Usually the first thing they’d pop out was “God Loves All His Children,’ and I hit right back with Becky accused of killing Jesus and her going to Hell for it. They tried the ‘Well, Becky can always convert,” and I’d say, “Yeah, and meanwhile her grandma Goldberg sits in Hell.” And some of them shot back, “Sometimes Mother Mary can get somebody out of Hell,” and I’d say, “Show me that.” Of course, they couldn’t, it was an idea that somebody cooked up to lure people like me who liked Becky too much to re-enlist.

I slowly backed into God by, if I may coin the word, develation. I had started out in life, as you may have inferred, accepting the whittled down Christian teaching for naughty tykes, which linked the Thou Shalt Nots with God. I can say, with the perspective of years, that Thou Shalt Nots formed at least a basis of morality. Perhaps that had been the original intention, to instill the idea that we come from perfection. Unfortunately, for my Christian soul, as my corrupt flesh entered into puberty the ephemeral flames of lust for Becky, now a budding seventh grader, coupled with masturbation that barely knew bounds, it became expedient if not altogether necessary to parole God and Thou Shalt Nots in order to fend off nightmares of the eternal flames of Hell.

Paroled, but not forgotten. How could they be forgotten? Especially in a world with tons of people who never knew Becky, never masturbated, and therefore never stop shouting into television cameras about Thou Shalt Not and God. As I suspect with every Christian cum atheist and/or disciple of Becky, Hell still wanders on the other side of the fence, and there being no way of really getting rid of it requires the endeavor to build the fence higher to at least hide it.

Ironically (because he professed atheism), it was a Mark Twain’s essay on Shakespeare that began my process of develation. Twain agreed with the scholarship that doubted Shakespeare’s authorship of the Canon. By Twain’s time the question had already been raised concerning how a man from some backwater with scant education could produce works implying the author’s close acquaintance with Latin, the Court, law and philosophy and other disciplines assumed beyond the grasp of native intelligence. One answer provided, as you know, is that a well-educated lord of the realm actually wrote the Canon, but attributed the work to a lowly theater manager because dabbling in theater was too beneath the dignity of lords of the realm.

Twain’s essay resurrected this not unusual ho hum. Twain, however, raised one additional question, and not a bad one; why was Shakespeare’s will, that legal instrument famously gifting his wife with his “second best bed,” completely silent on the bequeathing of books? Books, Twain argued, were a very valuable commodity at the time of Shakespeare’s death; he further postulated that whoever wrote the Canon must have had books, and the fact that Shakespeare apparently had none to bequeath led Twain to conclude that a lord of the realm had to have written the Canon, and that Shakespeare was no more than a lowly theater manager, and that if he had written anything it was no more than a ledger explaining, say, how Titus Andronicus previewed a hundred times before taking a 65 million dollar bath. Or something like that; it’s been a while since I read the essay.

Any way, the matter of no books mentioned in Shakespeare’s will shook my belief in the potential of native intelligence.

That is, until the next time I laughed through a whole scene of Shakespeare’s low comedy. You know, farting, belching, body parts, that stuff you find scattered through his plays from Richard III to All’s Well That Ends Well, from Lear to the Merry Wives of Windsor. Now tell me; what lord of the realm could write that? Who could have tea with the Queen of England in the afternoon, and then repair to his manor to construct, for instance, Toby Belch? My answer to this, let it be known, is I’m right back in under-educated Shakespeare’s corner.

That’s my metaphor for ‘develation.’ First I believed, then I didn’t, then I did again by asking, what lord of the realm could stick puns on body parts into Hamlet?

It exposes my reliance on native intelligence and lack of exquisite education to admit that this whole question of God, for me, now is rephrased, What the fuck else could ever come up with all this? The answer that it all sprang from some entity we’ll never really know or comprehend not only satisfies me, it’s the only answer that can satisfy me. It’s not very Christian or sophisticated, and I’m not trying to get you to buy in.

But now that Becky Goldberg is innocent of killing Jesus, and now that there is no Hell, I’m expecting her to read this and get in touch.

Bieber Bomb

2011-02-28T17:57:00.000-08:00

Bieber Bomb

Now that Justin Bieber has come out against killing babies it’s time to sit up and pay attention; this is probably as close as we’ll ever get to an actual fetus making a pronouncement on the issue of abortion. (That whooshing sound? Sarah Palin swooping from the trees to cuddle up with the moppish lad. ALERT SARAH: Yes, we elected an Indonesian Muslim president, but sixteen-year old Canadians still can’t serve as vice president.)

Bieber’s foray into the Abortion Wars is a game-changer, as anyone knows who remembers the Cold War and Annette Funicello coming out from under her Mickey Mouse ears in 1959 to declaim against Communism (“It sounds kinda bad… I’m with the President on this one.”), thus cementing what would be thirty years of concerted United States policy, resulting finally with the Mickey Mouse trademark waving o’er the ramparts of the destroyed Berlin Wall.

Billy Mummy’s 1966 pronouncement, “I think it would be sort of cool,” stopped all the dithering and galvanized the Congress into digging deeply into our pockets to fund sending Americans to the moon. (Where are the ‘Lost In Space’ re-runs, by the way?)

Jackson Five (with cute little Michael) and, presto, Martin Luther King Day!

The list of paradigm-altering pubescent pronouncements goes on, and their effects on American policy are well documented (The Opie Dicta, The Beaver Bromide, etc.). Therefore, Bieber’s ABORTION IS BAD had better be studied for its implications. Example: Malthusians will fear His Bieberness’s defense of the fetus will increase exponentially the number of new Americans to be born in the coming days of repealed Obama-care. Other policy makers, however, will point out the likelihood of vast numbers of OB-GYN nurses, stripped of their rights to collectively bargain, to collectively botch enough deliveries to maintain a stable population. And if de-unionized nurses working in geriatrics cooperate and switch around a few meds, hey, all this could work out for the better. Go Justin! (And thank you, Wisconsin.)

One little adjustment to the Bieber oeuvre should be considered; lad, that melodic syrup warbling under your golden tresses gets girls thinking thoughts they really shouldn’t if we want to prevent that distressing question from being asked all too often, Should I tell my parents, or should I tell Dr. Murder I’m pregnant? Although it hardly seems possible, your ejaculate and the ejaculate of boys even younger and sweeter looking than you get girls pregnant; knock it off with the cool moves! Didn’t you start out with Christian music? Why not stick to sobering ditties about Hell and Dr. Murder’s legs sticking out of Satan’s maw? Help us bring the temperature down and keep the panties up.

After that, maybe help us out with the fracking issue.

Lara Logan

2011-02-25T18:54:00.000-08:00

What happened to Lara Logan is not funny, and whoever makes a punch line out of it deserves nothing but contempt. That said, comments and punch lines twittering about our modern wireless civilization, when boiled down, pose a question coeval with the mastodons, What Did She Expect?

Probably as you read this, someone is twittering (accurately, sad to say), “If it were Candy Crowley, and not Lara Logan no one would care.”

Indeed, if it were Candy Crowley the punch lines would only be more grotesque, and the level of concern and sympathy correspondingly less.

To draw even more distinctions from Twitter world, when Ms Crowley’s colleague, Anderson Cooper, was roughed up in Cairo, the Twittered sentiment ran more toward what a ‘man’s man’ he is, rather than expressions of sympathy. Were there any memorable punch lines?

One is afraid to acknowledge Ms Logan’s good looks, as if to do so would make it appear he or she (particularly he) can accept them as a reasonable explanation for the reactions to what happened to her, not to mention what happened to her. Here in the 21st century there is still something unhappy and imprisoning about beauty in a woman, and the fact of Ms Logan’s attractiveness cannot be ignored. Nor is it, neither by men or women; sadly, perhaps it is natural that it is only snidely acknowledged.

An attractive man exists with the world’s obeisance to his self-possession. He may have worries, but a sudden, violent sexual assault is nowhere near the top of his list. In the absence of debilitating neurosis or vices, he advances, collects and conquers in a manner that seems to represent the natural order of things.

What beautiful, successful woman has not “schemed” her way to the top, or not used her “wiles,” or not “exploited” men’s weaknesses to achieve her glory?

And this is not only a man’s invention; indeed, some of the most shocking responses to Ms Logan’s assault come from women! That these women, many of them accomplished, accept the stereotype is the only explanation for this.

Meanwhile, responsible male Twitterers repress their confusion of assault with seduction to achieve the distance necessary to express their true sympathy for Ms Logan. It’s not that every man’s secret wish is that he was there, but the word sexual, even bracketed by ‘violent’ and ‘assault,‘ in a context involving a woman he knows to be attractive is like the brightest star, something that automatically pries open his imagination. It explains why men generally have the longest faces when expressing their sympathy and revulsion to the assault on Ms Logan.

Many modern Tweets and blogs concerning this crime in ancient Cairo precincts have managed to revive a stereotype as old as earliest human society: The strong man simply clubs his way to the beautiful woman, the remaining women are satisfied to see a rival carried off.

Desert Roadside

2010-11-09T16:27:00.000-08:00

The shackled red 1965 BSA 500 swayed in the back of Matt’s 1967 powder blue Chevy pick-up truck as the old slant six pushed the shined up metal through the white New Mexico desert eastward toward Mesopotamia where the US government had detailed Matt to a flimsy humvee. In San Diego Matt’s little league and Babe Ruth trophies sit on shelves in his room and his school crap fills drawers, and the dog still wonders, and the nineteen years since Matt’s birth drifted through the house like clouds of finished air, Burroughs couldn’t breathe them with Mindy, and their recent fights unmasked the realization Matt was the only reason certain issues hadn’t already erupted, so fine, she could have the trophies and school work, and the wondering dog, and he took the restored machines. Long before Mesopotamia would be Virginia, where Burroughs’ brother lived and raised daughters, and bragged, when it had been funny, “At least they ain’t cannon fodder.”

Burroughs thought about the saddest things without it making him sad, a gift from the trance for driving since early morning through the desert, the bald mesas and scrub growth flew by idiotically the way paper and plastic fly by an ambulance.

He heard that somewhere nearer the Mississippi things grew and flourished without vast water systems.

His mind had stopped working like a mind, when Burroughs realized a hitchhiker just east of the on-ramp, a half-mile down the road. He woke to a conscious decision to ignore the hitchhiker, but changed his mind, which now worked like a mind, when he saw it was an attractive girl with a stuffed knapsack at her feet, her beckoning thumb part way over the macadam stirred memories of the anxious frontiers where a young woman’s eyes looked back and not past.

New York City, she said. Holy cow, what a truck! What year?

Sixty-seven.

Man, that’s old.

Of course, he thought; ’67 was the year he had been born.

She slung her knapsack between them; it seemed to contain all her life and sentience like an oyster’s shell. She would have been nice for Matt. Mindy again. Millions of seconds passed in a gray streak as he watched her climb in.

I’m Burroughs.

Sithy. No, I don’t lisp; Cythera, but they call me Sithy. You ride the bike?

He thought of riding bones. Burroughs put it in gear, and shared what little he knew about BSAs, British, you know, who were into high-performance machinery, added smatters of Matt. What are you doing in the middle of a desert?

She complained about growing up in the deadbeat town just back aways, and gosh, but ain’t it happening in New York, and fuck L.A.; no way she wanted people to think she was looking for a part. Chicago; Home of the Cubs? ain’t there enough futility? And where are you going?

So he lied and said he was going to New York. They take women, too, he mused, imagining her in fatigues, and thought of that desert.

He prompted her to talk about herself and her interests and her impossible visions, because girls, even lying girls, maybe especially lying girls – even if he didn’t want to realize she was a lying girl – dissolve a man’s propriety into a basin of warm instinct. Burroughs vaguely resumed a time when his interest in a woman cancelled his interest in her thoughts. The sound of her voice made her prettier, and he kept up with the questions, which answers lead him farther back from the hanging gardens.

Tranceless miles passed, until there stood, well off the macadam, another hitchhiker. He was copper because he was Native-American, a chip long chiseled from the big, American block, and swept into the desert, never to be bothered again until, of course, somebody found gold there, so flung to another Bureau, which kindly has kept his history in a drawer with some special endowments. And because there were no pennies in his eyes they were black, and didn’t look at Burroughs, they saw through him; it was more complicated than x-rays, they saw into the episode of what it’s like to be dead. He wasn’t near an on-ramp, he had burned in the sun miles and miles from the nearest hope, and maybe that’s why the girl stirred with an unspoken expectation they should stop, so Burroughs did. And just as he did the evening sun slipped under a mesa behind them, and conceived the strange New Mexican premonition of a vast electrical storm. He had a rolled up blanket under his arm. Because the fabric was old and worn the Indian was young, maybe Matt’s age. The girl’s age.

How did you end up here?

The sheriff in Artesia didn’t like me.

Sithy stirred with indignation.

But the Indian stopped her by raising his hand, and asked, Witchita Falls?

Witchita Falls was on the way. The Indian climbed in the truck bed with the BSA. He had no interest in high-performance, or at least asked nothing about it, he sat with his back to the cab and faced backward, westward, past the gloomy bones to a sheriff’s Artesia.

Some miles into falling darkness Sithy stopped answering questions; she wanted to know “stuff” about Burroughs, I mean, where’d you get a name like that? she started.

His parents met in college lit and thought Burroughs was the real voice. He omitted Mindy and Matt and the wondering dog and years in Customer Service, where he’d done quite well, he didn’t have to actually talk to customers, he trained people how to talk to customers, and it was a big company, and it gave promotions, and his brother with the daughters in Virginia didn’t have to worry about him, he was fine, even if Mindy got the rest. Instead he told Sithy a fabulous tale about aviating and adventure, and ain’t life grand even if you don’t have a pot to piss in. He was more than twenty years older than Sithy, old enough to know better, and Mindy had been his only ignorance all the years grounded, but on he flew.

Night, entropy spread into the long, long drive.

Burroughs began to hallucinate children running onto the highway and said he’d better pull over and get “shut eye,” like it would require fifteen minutes, although he would need more, but he felt timid about the arrangements, because when the Chevy stopped moving he knew the desert would turn into something different, he didn’t know how, maybe the sun buried in some sheriff’s heart of hearts would never rise again, or it would rise from the west, or just rise like it had for nineteen years and not offer any excuses.

Over there beyond his doubts was a crag, it may have been volcanic rock flung from Albuquerque or a fizzled meteor, but it was big enough to hide the Chevy from the highway, and maybe the queasy breeze would erase the tire tracks and prevent some moseying sheriff’s interest. The desert was full darkness; as he got out of the truck the spatter of stars reminded him of a coke party in the ‘80s. He had a sleeping bag and she that tiny knapsack, and what was she thinking, anyway?

I’ll stay here, said the Indian; the Chevy was backed up to the meteor instead of a drawer, and his old blanket draped from his shoulders.

Burroughs laid out the sleeping bag like a short highway, it just abruptly began and ended and the sands made no destination, until Sithy said, Why not over there? to where there posed shyly in the night a baby meteor, not the height of a lamb but taller than sleepers, oh maybe only a couple of hundred feet away, she even took his hand, and the way there felt wild with pulse and no breathing.

But there was youth, more a mood than condition; it’s possible to restore conditions, as Matt might have pointed out, because he’d done it with the Chevy and BSA, but even with the dents and faded paint and plugs addressed, nobody would say they were young. Burroughs, a Customer Service manager, fucked Sithy, while Sithy aviated and gulped air. He felt lifted from the salty ocean clogged with single-use plastic baggies he’d seen down by the San Diego harbor, and transported to a freshwater lake in a crisp, north Canadian province, and the lake had no conditions, the lake even – if it wasn’t lying – let a wind disturb its surface. There the mood died, and his condition unveiled. He cried on a shore with Matt’s remains, god, that mess Christians make of late-term abortions, the desert just ran with bloody tissue, there was nothing but shreds in that stupid coffin, but Sithy’s soothing voice and the distant, long promised but silent electrical storm finally gave sleep, and the last one he questioned was the wondering dog. I wonder, too; what the fuck? What the fuck happened to him?

It rose from the east after all, wide and sage like the Capitol dome, and Burroughs was alone. The BSA had been unloaded from the Chevy, and Cythera and the Indian were long down the road, probably past Lubbock, somewhere nearer the Mississippi, a flourishing place they belong or think they belong, in any condition but his, but the bike was gone; Burroughs imagined them quietly pushing it down the highway until they were out of noise, and then firing the baby up, and roaring off, not thinking about sheriffs, just aviation and the crazy sky dreams kids have, maybe that was the key to Everything.

The Chevy drove more easily without the BSA shackled to the back. Rather than beeline to Virginia he navigated without a map. And it was not too many miles out of Denver on a four-lane highway where busy Colorado customer service workers placated like a swarm of high performance locusts where he saw her, again hitchhiking. He was in the left lane where he didn’t belong.

She recognized him. She wagged her thumb over the macadam with the urgency of his next breath.

Adam's Trip To Maine

2010-08-24T17:34:00.000-07:00

My Dear Readers,

Young Charles Fenwick is a little behind with his research paper, but in the mean time a fellow I know recently visited the state of Maine, and he sent me a short note on what he discovered there:

Adam’s Trip To Maine:

Sometime in 1963 a man named Bill was born, and Bill died this year, he would have been 46 or 47, and someone wrote with black marker on a stone, ‘Bill, 1963-2010, you will never be forgotten; I will always love you,’ this stone was the size of a spread out hand and I found it on a shore near the end of one of the millions of peninsulas that dribble from Maine into the North Atlantic. The low tide loaned the violent shore to my strides across stones and empty shells where no Jain can walk because underfoot lay thousands of unavoidable snails the size of peas which sound like someone behind you eats popcorn as you feel queasy. There were dinghy sized rocks embedded in the exposed tidal basin, a retreating glacier had churned them sideways to expose the striations to the sky, and up until today they resisted ten thousands years of weather and tides to tear them apart, there was no way Bill could be remembered on their ragged surfaces, no, it was the hand-sized stone I found, it’s compliance, its willingness to erode into a smooth face that took Bill’s memory. I returned the stone to its accomplished mission; Bill was not forgotten! Whoever had written the message was a very effective writer; I wondered by what chance I arrived here to read it; you have had a similar experience in the remaining old used book stores still occasionally dusted in the few remaining funny little places in the world, the epochs sorted in the unique chaos owners of these establishments possess, in one teetering stack a hardbound Thackeray dominates 1950’s porn paperbacks, a discovery made in between the mountainous chatter of pages because of a trip out of town, because you had to get away, had to find something to read.

Maybe it was calmer than that.

A tour of Portland. A bucket of steamers down by the wharfs. Your favorite woman. It started out as a lark; get in the car and go Down East, is there a good reason the briny wind shouldn’t tussle your hair, make her hand feel unusually light and warm, and isn’t a place like Portland plainly felt, and maybe that was why you brought her here, to plainly feel things, and not break the little nuances of living into tweets and twitters, although that is possible here, too, but you’ll leave that chance in the car, in the glove compartment where no one puts gloves anymore, if they ever did, did your grandparents? Were it not for the constancy of red brick and a disoriented sun the little hills of the city made you think of San Francisco — talk about twittering thoughts. Remember that hand? In what compartment does that belong or spring from, let it go, go to the light warm hand in yours, and shop. Nice shops burrow into the red brick vestiges of the grim 19th century determination to churn, process and fabricate products, now their ground floors tell nothing about the upper stories, what goes on in them, is that a curtain up there? Does she hide there now? Did anyone? Nothing is exported from Portland anymore except a future where probably, certainly, you’ll remember her light, warm hand leaving yours to try something on, something from… China, while you look across the street at the THOMAS BLOCK building that takes up a whole city block, and wonder, did a Tom Block inscribe his name in the long stone lintel embedded in the red brick forty feet from the ground, or was it a Mr. Thomas, a fantastically successful fabricator, who bought a whole BLOCK of Portland and named it THOMAS? The mystery deepens when you decide to smoke, there are still things to try on, you tell her, actually you tell the girl to tell her because she’s in the dressing room, it’s not far away you wander, and just up and across from THOMAS BLOCK, in gold letters cut into new granite not even twelve feet above Ladies Wear is CONCETTA BLOCK; is it possible? Is this her? It’s close enough to the sea, the wind is strong enough, you’ve heard the grim stories but nothing can kill her, it even becomes likely

it was she who wrote to Bill.

Stories From The '60s

2010-06-27T10:03:00.000-07:00

Charles Fenwick recently graduated with a degree in anthropology. His research paper was developed from inquiries with ‘Boomers’ with particular focus on what they remember doing during the memorable ‘60s. When Fenwick finishes his master’s thesis, described as an attempt to fashion a 'grand, unified theory' of the 1960's, he promises to make it available here.

Although most of the interviews were conducted in the area, none was with people from our town, and Fenwick assures me that any resemblance to events or experiences enjoyed or endured by local Boomers is purely coincidental.

Ralph’s New Year

“The ‘60s? Well, dunno, guess I haven’t thought about it for a while. I mean, why do you ask?”

I explained the paper on the 60s I was doing for a college assignment, and no offense, but he seemed to be about the right age to ask, Sir.

“I’m probably not one to ask; I survived.” His name was Ralph, his age was to just this side of social security, but he had kept fit, had hardly any gray, and still the devilish gleam in his eye, probably planted there before Nixon. “Okay, that’s not funny,” Ralph admitted. He was busy repairing a hole in the ceiling of a porch in front of one of the businesses in town when I interrupted him. “Close to lunch,” he explained to some hidden auditor as he descended the stepladder. He unbuckled his tool belt. “Hmm, wow, the ‘60s,” he mused to himself. He picked up a knapsack and pulled out a thermos and a baggie with a sandwich, and we both sat on the steps. It was January, but it must have been fifty degrees and the sun landed right on us. He thought, maybe rummaged, while sorting his fare, and something caused him to twist his lips like he wanted to smile. “Yeah, it was so long ago I guess there’s no harm,” he decided.

“I got it I my head about ’67 or eight I was going to be a tv writer, you know, write a Star Trek or something, even had a script, and my uncle Willy lived in L.A. and he had some success at that, and he said ‘Come on out.’ I didn’t have much to pack up, and I had a girl then, and you won’t believe it, but in those days girls, — even girls that mattered — didn’t care if you had much or not; isn’t that kind of funny now? Sweet girl, she was. Dark. Dark eyes. Had a real sweet smile, and a laugh that peeled off the frustration. Yeah, I know, everybody thinks it was all peace and love, but there was frustration, too, or where the hell did I get an idea to go to L.A. to learn to write tv shows? Sierra was her name. Ain’t that a great name? Couldn’t tell you if it was the one she was born with, but it was the only one I knew her by. Came out of New York. Think her family moved there from Missouri or some place. Great grandfather was a brewer, but her grandmother spent most of the money and now her mother was down to a crappy million or so. And Sierra had a ton of brothers.

“Sierra and me were either real great or real mean to each other. There were times I almost hugged and kissed her to death and then times I’d tell her to go to hell. Man, romance was like snookers then, kids — hey, plenty of grownups too — bouncing off each other, and you could do that and not be afraid of being unusual. But Sierra was no violet, if I told her to go to hell she’d go sack with some guy, so it was hell, all right, it was hell for me. Well, that was what was where it was at between us when I bought the used pickup and told Sierra I was going to L.A.”

Ralph removed the sandwich from the plastic baggie, and poured a cup of coffee from his thermos, took a bite, a sip, a bite and a sip and then continued.

“Nothing new I can tell you about L.A. Only thing I can say is I bet it hasn’t changed a bit all these years. Except I bet it’s even colder now. Man, what a cold, cold town. Coldest in America. Been there? Well, then you know.

“After a couple of months I figured out I wasn’t writing no Star Treks. That was the easiest lesson about the trip — L.A., man, what a frigid town. Back then they used to say everything started in California and moved east, and I remember thinking, ‘no, really?’ It wasn’t a settling idea, man. It wasn’t all peace and love, believe me. Uncle Willy had this old doll; she was forty or something, Lucy? I think so. Lacy? Could have been Lacy. I suppose now I’d think she was okay, but at the time she looked a hundred years old, but she didn’t act that way toward me, and I guess uncle Willy did some romping around to help make her act that way — like I just said about everybody bouncing around. Anyway, after about two months I gave up Star Trek, it was right before New Year’s — oh yeah, it had to be ’68 because I got there the November Nixon got elected — and it was after Christmas when I decided to get out. Cold town, man. I didn’t have a girl the whole time I was there. Whoa, you’re taping this? What an embarrassment. Well, it’s the truth, I didn’t. I had even less to pack up when it was time to leave, I think I borrowed a few bucks from uncle Willy, you know, gas, just gas, man, I don’t think I’ve ever slept in a motel.

“Anyway, before I left I knew as soon as I hit the high desert it would get frigid, and get even worse going east from the Rockies, and sleeping in the truck wouldn’t be an option, so I went down to the UCLA bulletin board and see if somebody wanted to share driving and gas to New York, you know, just keep moving.” Ralph made a silly smile. “Well, guess what? There was.”

Bite, sip. Bite, sip.

“I called the number and this chick comes to the phone, her name was Cathy, and says yeah, she trying to get to New York, and she’d share gas and the driving. I asked her if she could drive a standard shift, and she said she’d driven a Carmen Ghia, which meant nothing to me, but it sounded like something with a standard. So we set up a time and place to meet.

“Ha, well, what a surprise, I mean you’d expect a dog, right? But man, Cathy — did I say that was her name? — was one nice looking chick, she was eighteen or so, freshman I guess, not exactly blonde, sort of close, very tan, and freakin’ green eyes, and that kind of body that made you wish there was no civilization to stop you, well, you get the idea. And what is she reading? I swear, man, she’s reading The Art of Loving. She gets into the truck and we’re not ten miles down the road and already out of stuff to talk about, and she pulled out that book. I never read it. Somebody once told me it isn’t what you think, very professorial or something.

“I was reckless then, and better than that, lucky, not afraid of anything, including the weather, and I steered us right to Vegas. That part of the trip I expected no problems, even though there weren’t those four lanes you have now. Vegas was a man’s town then, it was like Hugh Hefner in neon, not that I had money to be a man in a man’s town, but the casinos sold you a steak dinner, and I mean a nice steak dinner and a glass of brandy, for a lousy two bucks, and if you avoided the slots on the way out you really beat the house. So we ate good, and I think Cathy sort of appreciated my worldliness, and I told her, ‘Shucks, I found that out when I came through on my way to L.A.’”

Ralph reflected for a moment, and said, “Something you kids will never know is the time when the whole damn country wasn’t a food court. You never saw a McDonald’s once you left L.A. You never saw any of that crap. The highways were still pretty new, too. That’s something that did come east out of L.A., the malls and food courts and that crap. Yeah, and Reagan.

“From Vegas I drove us through Utah and into the mountains, over Loveland Pass, just about killed the truck, but you couldn’t kill a Chevy in those days. Did I mention it was a Chevy? Anyway, I had driven thirty hours or so, it was dark again, and coming out of Golden, Colorado it was nothing but plains from there to Pennsylvania, and I pulled the truck over, and woke up Cathy and said it was her turn. Hey, no prob, she said. She was totally alive in one second. Maybe she was Buddhist; I hear Buddhists jump right out of bed. Anyway, I got out of the truck and walked around to her side, and she scooted over to the wheel, and I opened the passenger door, man, I was headed for the crash of all crashes, my lids were heavy as that hammer over there, and there was a wind, a wind, man, cold as ice. I opened the door, and Cathy’s got both hands on the wheel and she’s looking at the floor, and she asks, ‘How come you’ve got two brake pedals?’”

Ralph stopped and looked at me, and interjected, “Thing is, man, I could have been vengeful, you know? I could have steered us right to the nearest motel, and we barely had money so we’d have to share a room…” He let the thought go.

“It was a good thing I didn’t, ‘cause you know, it’s the unusual things that stick. And the thing was — you’re going to think I’m nuts because Cathy, Cathy, man, was one nice looking chick — all I thought about the whole time I had been driving was Sierra, and getting to Sierra’s house, and just feeling her wrap. I never missed or wanted someone so bad, and every mile we got closer to Sierra my fingers started burning on the wheel. Guess that explains the thirty hours. I don’t want to get dirty about any of this, but the thing is, man, Sierra just took you, all of you, we’re just bastards, you know, all of us, but she took it all like it was gold. So anyway, Cathy learned how to drive a shift.”

Ralph laughed. “’Foot on clutch.’ Then I put the gear in first. ‘Foot slowly off clutch, other foot gently on gas.’ Jerk jerk jerk, but she got it moving, and I said, ‘Foot off gas, left foot on clutch,’ and I shifted it into second.” Ralph had gotten to his feet to make the demonstration, he repeated the same silly smile made before, and almost as quickly as he had risen he sat down. “Well, so like that, we finally got it into third, and she drove okay. Like I said, the highways were new, and they were four lanes now, and I fell asleep. And man, I was out. It seemed like five minutes before we were somewhere in Kansas, and Cathy said, ‘Ralph, I think we need to stop for gas.’ I was sleepy, man, I rose from the dead, and told her to slow down and managed to say, ‘Foot off gas, right foot on brake, left foot on clutch,’ and I shifted it down to second, and we got off the highway and crawled to this gas station, and stalled at the pump, and I gassed her up, and got back in, and then it was ‘Foot on clutch…’ you get the picture.”

Ralph took a gulp of coffee, smiled. “Chicks liked being taught a manly thing. I think she enjoyed the idea of chowing in a gambling den more than she enjoyed the steak dinner we had in Vegas. Not that driving a truck is really so manly, but if she never done it, never even thought about doing it, then finding out there ain’t so much to doing manly things, or at least thinking so… all I can tell you is Cathy had this face of real determination, and especially after she got it into third all by herself, she had a real eager, intense look at the highway as we entered it from the ramp, she looked like a real accomplishment, I mean, what an expression. I should have stayed awake.

“She got us east of Kansas City, and that time after we gassed up and I took over. I could see she was tired. Some people hate quitting; she was one. You know the type; next morning they’re dead and still holding the glass in their hand. But I wasn’t two miles down the road when she conked. Hard. Out like a light. And you know what? She fell asleep with her head on my lap. It didn’t start that way. She started out leaned back in the seat, and sort of weaved right and then she veered left and her head went right down on my lap, and her right hand rested on my knee, and she was out. I was maybe four or five years older than her. Can’t explain it. Never had daughters. All I know is I never had such a good-looking chick so close to me, not to mention asleep on my lap, and it not get me fusty, if you know what I mean.

“I drove and drove, my fingers were on fire again, it was like Sierra had torched the whole east and the closer I got the hotter I felt. I don’t need to tell you. This kind of lust hits you kids every five seconds. But when you’re driving toward it, and you know it’s there, it’s ten times worse. I had thoughts about Sierra and about being with her and about stuff you can hear from any jerk on the subject, I mean, just go to the book on the lowest bookshelf; it’s all there.”

Ralph laughed like more words on the subject would be indiscreet, silence would have been even more significant, so he laughed.

“Well, after about five hundred miles of this — Indiana? — I had worked myself into practically a hallucination over Sierra, you know Buddhists, they’re always talking about the One. Well man, I was at One.

“And it was all just pouring out of my — oh, you’re taping this? — man, this Sierra hallucination clouded up the windows. And suddenly, and don’t ask me how or why, but suddenly I realized that all this, um, love was pouring from me right into Cathy’s head. Her head was right on my lap. Man, I had been breathing in my nose and blowing out what you can’t imagine right into Cathy’s head for five hundred miles. I can’t describe the moment. It’s funny, because I’ve thought about it a lot over the years… Oh screw it, we call them quarks and muons because what the hell else can you call them, but quarks and muons? “

The same laugh.

“Our deal was I’d get her this far and show her the bus to New York, and that Chevy dragged us here the first hour New Year’s Day. I had that shack at the end of Smith’s Road — the road was sparse back then — the pipes had been drained and the heat turned off. I don’t know if Cathy ever saw a real winter before, but if she did she didn’t let on, I mean she looked like she was in the middle of a glacier. I didn’t care. There were plenty of blankets; I just wanted to get the hell out and over to Sierra’s. Crazy, right? I’m telling you, Cathy was one nice looking chick, she didn’t have a real winter coat, she stood there with her hands bunched into the pockets of her little, thin jacket, which made the coat tight around her figure; man, she was nice.”

Ralph calmed himself down with a bite and coffee.

“So I lit the heater, a real pain-in-the-ass kerosene stove, had to put a candle under the valve to free it up, man, it took forever, and of course, even after firing up it took a while longer for the thing to begin to barely heat the place, it took so long that you even wondered if it ever would, and Cathy puts her arms around me, and it was a nice appreciation.

“But I couldn’t, the same way I had thought Lacy was a hundred years old, Cathy looked ten to me, and I really got down on myself for all that stuff I’d put into her head already; I don’t know, man. It was just weird…” As if an idea occurred for the first time, Ralph paused and then said, “Funny, maybe she was just afraid of being alone at the end of Smith’s Road. I can understand that.” He thought a little more, and then continued. “So it finally warmed up, and I lied and told her I’d be right back.

“You never saw a Chevy get so fast to Sierra’s. About four miles. I’ve seen people have seizures; nothing like what I was having. Just as I pulled into her driveway I saw a guy, a guy I had seen around town, at her door. She was right behind him, she was wearing a nightgown, and I knew all about these threshold departures, when the guy leaves in the middle of the night, I know what that’s all about. But he was giving her the gentlemanly goodbye kiss best he could, when my headlights distracted them. I guess that gave him the excuse for getting out of there even faster than he planned or hoped for, and he jumped in his car and fired it up and split out of there before I was out of gear with the ignition off.

“I got out and Sierra saw it was me. She’s embarrassed because she’d just been with this guy, and I’m embarrassed because I don’t care.” Ralph gave me a purposeful look. “It wasn’t all peace and love, but there was love, and you make sure to record all its dimensions.” He then hesitated before continuing.

“Listen man, just go to the low shelf. All I’ll say is she was too embarrassed to have coitus, and it didn’t matter to me, because she read me perfectly, and I was on my back in a minute.”

Ralph looked off into space, not pleased or unpleased by the simple answer to one plus one.

“The next morning I drove over to take Cathy to the bus, you know, the shack was three miles from the highway. The place was warm, in fact it was a furnace, and she was gone. Must have been gone for a while because I didn’t see her on the road coming up. Her knapsack was gone. The only clue she had been there was the fifty blankets scattered on the bed. And I saw something poking out from under one, and went to look, and I never read the damn thing, but I’ve still got it some where; The Art Of Loving.

“All the good that done me,” Ralph laughed, and then fetched his tool belt. “Hope that helps,” he said, eying my recorder.

I said “Happy New Year,” because you do until the fifteenth or so.

Sophie’s Valentine’s Day

Sophie embellished her admission; “A hooker. A call girl. A whore. Call it what you want, I was young and delicious and made a living renting out the fruit.” She gave me a sympathetic look; I guess I looked incredulous; she was after all touching sixty.

I met Sophie when auditing a local writers’ group. I had heard it was populated with Boomers, and I was nosing around for a memory to include in my college research paper. There was the instructor and seven writers, all around Sophie’s age, and those who weren’t writing about their cats seemed to stray into political thickets covering old quarrels. At least I by that point had heard enough about Nixon.

Sophie was the only one in the group working on a movie script. Her story told of a young woman turning tricks from her trailer parked in some vague location, if I had to guess, some place like ours. Sophie appeared very concentrated and transported when reading aloud from her latest progress, and I guess I had asked too many probing questions while we walked from the private residence that hosted the group to our cars, and that’s when she suddenly hit me with her secret that back in the late ‘60s she had prostituted herself. And it was a secret. “Don’t you ever, ever tell anyone,” she said after her sympathy had resolved into shock at her sudden burst of truth telling. I assured her I would heavily disguise the source — and I have. The 40th anniversary of the Woodstock Festival had just passed, and there were thousands of Then and Now pictures of Boomers in the media, and because I had studied them carefully it was easy for me to appreciate how pretty Sophie was; I thought as we talked now that she looked nicely put together; she was trim and shapely and she had soft, expressive eyes that help a woman of any age. She stopped at her car, a very nice car, and instead of opening the door she leaned against it and looked up between the tree branches at the night and seemed ready to pull from the limbs a memory.

“I’ve been married for almost thirty-five years,” she prefaced. “I’ve got kids, and I hope to God when my time comes that the last thing I think about is how much I love them and how kind and considerate my husband is, and I hope I think about every Valentine he gave me over the years, and the little presents and flowers that came with them…

“But that’s hoping for a lot,” she concluded. She paused, and made a reckless, maybe wry smile. “I’m not going to tell you about any hooking; it was during a brief period of my life, and I won’t say the money wasn’t important, but I don’t think it was the object…” her eyes looked away from me and she did not finish the thought. “The ‘60s, eh?” She opened her car door, deposited her script, closed the door and again leaned against it.

“There was a boy, and that was the problem, he was just a boy, his name was Jensen — lovely, no? — he was the first boy I loved. I was bragging before; I never felt pretty or ‘delicious,’ although I’d been told many times I am.” She laughed. “Was,” she corrected herself, giving a half wink and a patronizing smile, and then continued. “There is only one really disagreeable father in the world, and it is the bad luck of every daughter to have had him.” She paused, and then continued. “It’s always the father, and mine was a crazy coot, that’s another story, just a crazy, cheap coot, and I guess if my mother hadn’t driven him completely insane I’d think even less charitably of him, but she did. When I was just a little, little kid one morning I got into bed between my parents, he was sleeping, I lay there staring into his face, and I breathed in his face, and he suddenly woke up and made this real disgusted look, like I had just vomited on him, and then he turned the other way. I’ve never thought of him without thinking of that.

“Anyway, Jensen not only told me I was pretty, he made me feel it, too. It made him the most handsome boy on earth.” She laughed. “Feeling pretty is the best drug. Unfortunately, that’s all it is.

“In some ways, maybe most ways, Jensen was like a lot of the kids then, he smoked pot and did some acid, he was always trying to get me to do an acid trip, but I wouldn’t. Scary, you know? But once he talked me into doing mushrooms with him, swore it was mild. It was in October, and you know what it looks like around here in the fall. We went to the woods where the Warren development is now; then it was a big wood lot. It was the only psychedelic I ever did, but it gave me an understanding of just what people got from that stuff. I had known that for some it was like entering a fairy tale, you know, princes and ladies and tassels, and for others it was the Odyssey and for others there was all the Hindu-maya stuff. Me, I just giggled through the whole trip. I just laughed and laughed at everything. I couldn’t tell you what was so funny, but it was.

“The afternoon passed, and it got chilly and a storm was coming up, and we walked to town and went to Jensen’s and got inside just before it started pouring. He had a dumpy, little studio, but when you’re kids you don’t see it like that, although I have to say the mushrooms took off some of the veil for me, maybe him, too, and we both started feeling awkward in his dirty little place, it was dark, too, because of the weather, and he poured us some jug wine, and that helped.” Sophie paused, perhaps to reconnoiter the past she was about to reveal.

“I can’t remember if it was Proust, maybe a lot of writers said it, but anyway somebody said the most natural thing a woman can do is ask to make love, at least it was an excuse to turn the lights out. It wasn’t the first time we did it.

“But this time it was weird and unsatisfying. It’s usually unsatisfying with boys,” she noted, and noticed my feet shuffle, and quickly resumed. “It was probably the mushrooms, and I wasn’t used to the weirdness of it. I tried drinking more wine to shake the feeling; it didn’t help, but I did get a little sloshed.

“I don’t know if the wine took over or if the mushrooms wore off, but I felt capable of walking home, and I definitely wanted to, and I lied and told Jensen my mom wanted me for something — dad was long gone by then — and I left. I don’t know why; I just had to get away.

“I wasn’t five minutes from his house when Tommy Gann, yeah, that’s right, the Tommy Gann pulled up in his Corvette, of course he had the top up, and gave me a big smile and said, ‘Hey sister, it’s raining.’

“Tommy and other guys in the band had already run through every chick in town, Christ, I knew that, I knew exactly what I was doing when I got in his Corvette.” Sophie looked at me. “It must have been the wine,” she explained.

Sophie asked if I minded if she smoked. I didn’t, and quickly she had one fired up. “Don’t tell anybody I smoke,” she said. She gave me a hard look, and asked, “You’re sure you want to know this?” I nodded. She was still unsure. “Christ, it might as well be you,” she finally said, but she didn’t look at me and I don’t think she said it really to me.

“I got pregnant. What a great Thanksgiving that was. I couldn’t tell my mother. And I hadn’t seen Tommy Gann since crawling out of his bed the next morning; he was probably on tour.” Sophie laughed, and noted, “Lucky world,” and a cloud a smoke trailed her words.

“Finally I told Jensen. It could have been his. It probably was; I mean it was only that one time with Tommy. Well, that poor boy… Oh, Jensen tried. But he was too young and it was too complicated. If I told him about Tommy it might have been simpler for him, you know, just go shoot the bastard or break his fingers. But pregnant? Boys just don’t have any idea. None at all. What can I tell you, we were all over the place; have it, don’t have it, marry, don’t marry, and to be very honest, if I had had that child I think I would have named it Tommy, in a weird way it seemed to me more manly to knock a girl up and leave her, just fucking desert her, than all the back and forth crap I got from Jensen.”

Sophie concentrated very hard on the half moon that had appeared from behind a cloud.

“Finally I had to do something. Abortion wasn’t legal yet, that was another year or so, but in New York it was practically legal, and it wasn’t done in back alleys anymore, but they weren’t in clinics yet, either. I got the name of some doctor; he had a second floor operation down in New York off Waverly. It was obviously a converted apartment, sort of flung together. I think it cost something like a hundred bucks. Abortion wasn’t such a big deal like it is now, it was sort of like smoking in the girls’ room.

“I lied to them about how far I was.

“The doctor was young, maybe late twenties, and this will sound stupid, he was really handsome, dark and tall and muscular and very assured, very mature, and I wished I was there for any reason other than getting an abortion; I was just embarrassed. But he was sympathetic, and really not knowing what to expect I felt safe with him.

“I’ll spare you the details.” Sophie gave me a very sharp look, and interjected, “You be careful with the ladies.” She took a long drag off the cigarette, and blew smoke at the half moon.

“By the time he figured out I had lied there was nothing he could do but continue. Even with a mega-dose of Valium it hurt like hell, but what hurt even more was watching him, I mean, he was in hell, he was in real, deep hell, and it took him a long time. When it was finally over he quickly walked out of the room, you could tell it used to be a bedroom, and he sent a nurse in. She straightened me out, and walked me to the ‘recovery room,’ which was just a smaller bedroom. They gave you an hour or so for the Valium to wear off. I asked her to turn the light out. The windows were draped, so when she turned the light out it was very dark. When she left she didn’t close the door completely, which at first I didn’t notice. I’m not sure after how long, but I came out of a trance, and the door had cracked open enough that from my bed I could see out of it and across the hall and right into the doctor’s office.”

Sophie drew on the cigarette and kept her eye on the half moon.

“He was sitting at his desk, and just staring straight ahead, and it was a terrible stare, and I felt really, really awful because I thought I had really injured the man, such a young man — God, I sometimes wonder what happened to him. I stared at him for a long, long time just praying that wherever he was he’d get out of there and be okay again. And God, did I hurt, but my hurt was even more for him. How stupid, but I felt like his mother and that I had carelessly injured him.

“And then a woman appeared. She was pretty, and nicely dressed, and had that smile we have only for people we love. She very quietly came up from behind him, and wrapped her arms over his shoulders, and kissed his neck. And in one hand she had an envelope, a pink envelope, and I heard her say, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’”

Sophie took a last drag, tossed the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it, and then looked the way people do when coming out of the subway after a long, sweaty commute. “My script is kind of stupid, don’t you think?” she asked.

I told her when she finished it I would definitely like to read it, and with that we parted.

Tim Bardy’s St Patrick’s Day

“How about a story of St Patrick’s Day; the holiest day of the year? God, if I had the liver for religion now.” Tim Bardy shook his head. Even at sixty or so his eyes conveyed menace, perhaps somewhat dimmed and dieted on light lager. Ready fists and a voice quick to rise had cut his path through the world, so it is said. He had a knot of curly hair, each one a survivor, a hand-to-hand combat between rust and gray. Several hues of paint trapped under his nails tried to hide from my attention, indeed house painting had been his trade all these years, although his youthful ambition had been to be an actor. At first he brushed off my entreaties, but then he scrunched his shoulders and gripped his stein as if preparing for a role.

“It’s not like me to dabble in memory, it has a terrible effect on my presence, such as it is, not what it was, never to be, well, I’ll just pretend it was a dream; at this point is there a difference? The bad ones you try to forget; it’s the good ones that haunt you, there’s always an angel in the good ones, usually one you kicked the teeth out of. Or maybe,” he added after a moment of consideration, “Maybe one you had no business battering up against.

“It was maybe ’67 or ’68, a fine time to be young and 4-F — that’s another story, and not a sad one either — I had a dandy part playing the lead in a local production, for the life of me I can’t remember the name of the show, but it seemed I was a poet or some sensitive thing, and the woman playing opposite — what a cow she was — had the demons, and by a trick, all the playwright’s as I recall, in three acts I brought her to the sensible shores of marriage, or at least a commitment of sorts, marriage was a square thing at the time, falling in love transported you to some fuzzy, botanical glory. That’s what the writers of the time thought, or at least as far with the idea they could get.

“Half way through the run, after I got the paint off my face and changed out of the silly costume, I started out the theater door when, Lord help me, about the prettiest face you can imagine walks up to me. ‘Mr Bardy,’ she says, ‘Thank you for that performance.’

“I believe that was the first time anyone called me ‘Mr Bardy’ and if it were Mary in heaven addressing me such I couldn’t have been more keen to a woman’s eyes, and there was no delay finding out her name was Cynthia, and if you suspect a reason for mentioning Mary in heaven, well, you’re right to, because there are pretty things on the Earth that don’t belong here, and Cynthia was one; I’ll tell you, even when you take away the desire, a woman’s eyes can show a bounty rich beyond the heart’s limits, and she was just such a creature.

“I saw she was smitten with me, I guess you’d call it, but there was the serious problem; she was smitten by The Poet I played. Happens all the time. It’s why actors have such poor reputations, I mean, human after all, just farting, belching louts when the fine words have run their three acts, and he finds himself to the wrong side of the stage lights. I should have told Mary in heaven right then and there she had the wrong impression, but man, if it is true a beautiful woman began a whole war then it’s no less likely Cynthia’s eyes could provoke a lie, and God help me, but I became the sweetest most sensitive man on the planet. A terrible lie, it was.

“Of course, in those days the penicillin and the Pill still reeked with novelty, and the boys and girls were going at it with a sense of impunity; disease and babies — hate to admit it — were identical, miraculously obliterated obstacles, and the question, Why should I, was replaced with the question, Why shouldn’t I, it infected everybody — everybody I ran with — and people feel an obligation to their times. Here is the real thing about the 60’s; you’ve heard it said ‘everything in moderation’ and no doubt are given to the lesson that the key word there is ‘moderation,’ but in the 60’s the key word was ‘everything.’ EVERYTHING in moderation. Get my point? And when you’re 4-F and a dandy actor there was plenty of everything to oblige you, though to be honest all I remember now is the conniving, I couldn’t tell you one moment of joy with a woman, just the conniving and the getting there.”

Tim paused, and to the ceiling said distractedly, “I guess they had to have had bodies, too.”

Tim finished his stein and looked at it as if it were a troubling question, and then called the bartender for a refill.

“After you’ve spent you see the emptiness of the body,” he continued after sampling the refreshed stein. “You understand why God can be so blasé about the flesh, why He permits wars, age, agues and horrible death, because without desire there’s just absolutely no need for the body, it’s a burden, a clump, a palpable reminder of one’s imagination getting the better of them, without desire flesh just becomes an annoying question of what the hell am I doing here? It’s all a body leaves you with, no matter how fetching you believed it, a sort of numbing incomprehension, but of course,” and here Tim cast me a somewhat sneering, sympathetic look, “I needn’t be telling you that.

“Well, there I was bobbing among the Sirens, and this sweet girl, Cynthia I mean, paddles over to me with her sweet eyes and says, ‘I’m guessing an actor seldom gets a home-cooked meal.’

“Now here I should tell you, she was plump. I’d rather tell you I stole an old woman’s purse than admit the superior, dismissive stance I took toward her and her plumpness. I’m not saying ‘fat,’ though nowadays they stick that tag on any woman a size over four — it only means now we have enterprises hoping to cure her — I just mean plump, a few more sixteenths of an inch to her bones. A dimple more in her smile. An undulation across her breast when she laughed. Did I tell you she had a sweet laugh?

“I let her cook me a dinner. Grand of me, no? It was St Patrick’s Day; that was just coincidence, but enough of one that I arrived at her place already in a glow. She had a tidy, little flat, an itty bitty kitchen. She started me out on a couple Raphael’s over ice with flamboyant twists of lemon, then pulled a steaming roast and vegetables from that nick of a kitchen and washed me down with, I swear, Pommard, which, I believe, now costs about half the price of Cameroon and maybe still half as much more. Then came the dessert, my God, a crème brouille that pasted heaven across my palate, served with a generous snifter of Gran Marnier. It’s a thing about the sexes, a man takes a woman to a fine establishment so she can see what a grand fellow he is. The gesture’s nothing compared to a woman feeding a man from her kitchen.”

Tim had a staring contest with his stein, breaking the trance with a swift grab, and then down went half the argument.

“I wasn’t stupid, well, not in the ordinary sense, I knew that the woman had cooked her heart and put it on a plate for me to eat, that she had lost all use for it; her eyes looked at me like I were the whole power and the glory, she laughed at every crack I uttered, any silly story of the theater she listened to like a gospel — my God, man, if it weren’t such an dangerous opiate it’s something every man should have at least once, for one moment, the pure shining love streaming at him from a woman’s eyes. Ha. I can say it now, whatever the hell ‘now’ is. But at the time I was far too clever. The world was too full of possibilities, too full of everything. There were no obstacles. Even the Moon would soon be ours to trample on.

“And you know what? I played with the woman. I toyed with her. I pretended that only tethers of decency kept me from leaping from my chair to smother her bosom with kisses. I said things to make her blush, and smile despite herself. God damn me, man, I waltzed her right to the gate where a man is expected to be a man, to where a woman wants no more than that; be a man, be a man. At which point I seized her hand, kissed it, thanked her for a charming little dinner, exactly what I called it, a ‘charming little dinner,’ put on my coat and left her holding the door.”

Tim had a silent disagreement with the stein.

“Never saw her again. Heard sometime later that she’d gone to Texas, and learned to ride horses, and made a trim, lovely lady of herself. I’ve not made love to a woman since without it being a disappointment. I’d have taken Cynthia with another hundred pounds, just for those eyes, those adoring eyes. Well, happy St Paddies.”

Madge’s May Day

Madge was pink as magnolia blossoms, and if her thoughtless habits added a superfluous seventy pounds to her frame they at least had been considerate enough to distribute them evenly, and old books would describe Madge as roly-poly. She sat at the bar, she wore a loose dress with sleeves reaching a third of the way toward very dimpled elbows, and she drank a concoction called a ‘sloe gin fizz,’ “But put a pizzazz on it,” she instructed the bartender, which was her way of asking that he top it off with a big drop of vodka. Her hair, still a vibrant cascade of curls, was rigorously dyed blonde. She spoke in a volume that intended to be heard, even obeyed; a stranger would think she owned the place.

“Oh, for the love of Pete’s sake,” she exclaimed when I had approached her. “Why don’t you kids go out and make your own damn 60s, and leave ours alone?” But after I persisted and explained the purpose of my inquiry she cast a half suspicious, half sympathetic look, much like the one I had received many times while standing on doorsteps trying to sell magazine subscriptions. “Well, junior, let me think about it.” She then muttered that she had moved several times over the years, and “God knows if the mice ain’t eaten them,” but finally offered I should come the next day — “Come earlier,” she instructed — and maybe she would have something for me.

The next day was gray, almost as gray as a barroom is at eleven o’clock in the morning. Madge was alone, her dress was the same cut but of a different, wildly colorful print. The bartender sulked at the far end like a mortician without a corpse. Madge gripped a half-consumed sloe gin fizz, by her tentative look it may have lacked the ‘pizzazz.’ Beside it on the bar was a small paper bag printed with a logo of a chain store that had gone out of business at least thirty years ago. “Well, for the love of Pete’s sake,” she greeted me with a failed effort toward ebullience. We exchanged a few words, the mortician was profoundly dejected by my order for a soda, and after he had produced it with a perfunctory motion bordering on an obscene gesture, and then left us alone, Madge said to me, “I don’t know if I’m giving a 60s story, or just an old story; I’ll just tell you this is the only one I have left.” She pushed the bag to me. “Go ahead,” she said, in a tone suggesting I was headed into a chamber of methane. “You said you wanted a story.”

In the bag were three letters, each in envelopes, the first one post marked San Francisco, July 1967, the next August 1967, the third November 1967. The envelopes were hand addressed; the return address on each was 1371 Haight Street. I carefully extracted a letter from the first envelope, feeling as if I had entered a mine. The letter was produced on a typewriter, one that had not been cleaned, and all the letters looked kind of like Madge, evenly thicker.

July 1, 1967
My Dear Margie,

From the reviews I’ve read it seems you and I were witness to a real historic concert. I never saw Hendrix before, but I’ve seen Joplin and her gang a few times at the Fillmore. I was never a big Who fan, but they sure beat the place up, didn’t they? AND WHAT ABOUT OTIS! Man, what a show, but to be honest, the best part was sharing it with you, it was the perfect climax to our six weeks of romance, I’ll never forget the date May 1, it will always remind me of meeting you, discovering you standing in front of the Free Store wearing that incredible frock, your hair streaming with sun, that laugh of yours, and how so naturally, easily, our lives entwined, and how, when you came back with me to my flat on Frederick, you said, ‘Somebody gave me this,’ and what great, fucking hash whoever it was had given you. May Day, May Day, I’ll never forget May Day so long as I live!

I hung out in Monterey for a few days after you left for home, I have to say all the excitement and joy of the place departed with you, but the breezes everywhere, especially by the bay, carried hints of you, whispered your name, the clouds streaming by the sun reminded me of my fingers combing through your hair, I wish I could tell you this was pleasant, but the reality of you being so far away made that impossible. I have never been religious, but I don’t see how the feelings I have about you can come from anywhere but a celestial throne, an edict enforced by all the stars and vastness of the night; dear Margie, you are the Queen, Goddess of my nights, now and forever. Without you near me, without your sweet, sweet body trembling in my arms and the music of your voice lulling me I wander the earth like a felon, wanted but not apprehended, loose in a freedom that is worse than imprisonment. Is your home that precious? Do you ever think about coming back?

So yeah, I guess this is a love letter, and I guess what I’m trying to say is I really want to see you again. If you visit me I can introduce you to the rest of the Oracle gang, and you can watch us put an edition together.

Love, Randolph

August 8, 1967
My Dear Margie,

I’m very, very sorry your boss is such a drag, man, even if he were crabby as Reagan, if he knew how much it would mean to me to let you off for a couple weeks I bet he’d give you the time.

You have no idea what it’s like here, Sergeant Pepper is still blasting out of the windows, there are incredible free concerts at the Straight Theater, the park is an endless banquet in the mansion of hospitality, pot is practically free, and that great Purple Owsley is still fizzing in the gutters, I mean it’s like everywhere.

It’s such a sunny, wonderful, plucky new world, Margie, but I have to tell you, it plays around me like a movie without a soundtrack, or a soundtrack without a movie, it is just so incomplete… It is clear, Margie, by dear, sweet Margie, that the joy of living will not dance with me, I just plod with insentience toward the glimmering, soft beam of existence to be shared with you, its distance seemingly proportioned to my desire for it.

But I’ll bet that every man that meets you gives you that line, and I can’t blame him, I don’t know if nature fashioned anything especially for a man, but if it did, you are that, and a man would be too timid or stupid not to tell you, not to shout it to the sky. I know your inner thoughts, I know the regions under that glorious shell nature gave you, I’ve explored them, with the acid pouring in our senses and the music filling every void in the universe, and not far away the salty breeze from Monterey Bay crying to baptize us in the creed of Love, I felt the virtue and honesty and most of all, I now believe in the justice of You & Me.

The Oracle is doing okay, I guess, there certainly is a lot of action around here, it’s kind of thrilling to know that about a hundred thousand people are reading what I write; I hope it’s not garbage. Do you know who Herb Caen is? Well, he’s a columnist for one of the city newspapers, he’s big around here, sort of the enemy, actually, very straight and all that, but he plugged one of my articles in his column, and wow, like now I’m getting letters from super-straight publications. But you know, Margie, I think pretty soon there isn’t going to be anything left to really write about. If you were here you’d know what I’m saying. We’re all just going to love each other, and take care of each other, and the world is going to achieve the equilibrium it always wanted and needed, and yes, people will have to continue to make things, but we won’t have to create things anymore. Maybe I should learn to be a potter!

Anyway, if you can’t come here I’m going to come see you at the first opportunity I get, if you want me to, that is. Please say that you do. It’s crazy, Margie, but I hate all this free love stupidity, I think it makes people no better than dogs in the park, I don’t want to make love to women, I want to make love to you, I really believe it is possible for a man and a woman to compose a complete universe… right now all I can tell you that as much as I appreciate, time to time, God’s intention with regard to pleasing a man’s eye with a woman’s shape, it is nothing I’ve been able to indulge, every woman in this town is like a kid sister to me, you really are the only woman on this planet, the only one I can ever, ever offer myself to as a man. So yes, I am asking you, and you know exactly what I am asking you, but I’ll make it as plain as THIS: Will you be one of us? Will you be mine? Forever and ever mine?

Love, Randolph

November 5, 1967
Margie,

If it has been a while since you have heard from me it is because the shock I received from reading your response to my last letter almost sent me off the docks, I have to say the height of the Golden Gate never looked so potentially anodizing, I am not ashamed to admit calculating how long it would take the icy water of the harbor to numb and obliterate the feelings your letter gave me, I can only tell you that what stopped me from an act of complete despair was the angry suspicion that, were you to hear about it, you might respond, ‘ha, and he tried to persuade me he was likely.’ Even without your love I still cannot live without your esteem. Being the case, hobbled as I am, I will walk straight through this, my last letter to you.

Although our distance apart is now a blessing of sorts — I can’t imagine the torture if you were on this side of the continent — and no longer the source of anguish measured in thousands of miles, still you are not so far away that it can’t be imagined, someday, our seeing each other again. You won’t be my lover, or my partner in life, you say my feelings “can not be returned,” I suppose I should be writing to you nothing at all, except that — in case the imagined day should come — I wish to be taken by you for at least a friend. A friend from May Day, 1967. I would do my part, shake your hand without coveting it, look at your eyes without drowning, and let you go without a departing embrace. I can’t promise that my eyes will hide everything, that a wistful glance would be entirely avoidable, that a sentiment won’t escape, such as this; my dear, dear sweet Margie.

Randolph

I handed the last letter to Madge, and let her carefully re-insert it into its envelope. “My first husband called me ‘Madge,’ and it’s stuck ever since,” she said, answering a question I had yet to pose. I did inquire if she knew what had become of Randolph. “I see him all the time,” she answered. She looked at my puzzled expression. “Oh for the love of Pete’s sake” she laughed. “Don’t you read People magazine? He’s one of their columnists.”

Zed’s Memorial Day

Zed was weeding the garden on the village green, he wore that luminescent green vest municipal workers have to. We got to talking, and I told him about my research paper, and wondered if he could help. He put the weeder down, and ushered me to the bench in the shade, sat down beside me and lit up a pipe. He looked up at the fat maple near us; its leaves were fresh and vibrant with May, a perfect contrast to his weathered mien, he let out a cloud of smoke, and the day was so still the cloud hung there for a moment. He spoke in a low voice with barely any inflection.

“I was at a funeral yesterday, an Episcopal service, I’ve been to a lot of funerals, I play the bugle, and you can’t bury a soldier without a bugler. I also play the organ, Bach is my favorite, so I won’t play him, I’ll only play Albinoni’s Adagio, especially if it’s for a soldier, because it’s based on a piece of music, a fragment actually, found in a bombed out library in Dresden. People ask for Bach all the time, but I won’t do it. Funerals don’t get me particularly sad unless it’s someone’s child — that happened three times — but otherwise I stand there feeling — I was going to say envy, but it’s far more imaginative than envy, I think it’s jealousy — yes, jealousy, ‘ah,’ I say to myself, ‘now he knows.’

“His name was Bolten, he was a vet, he was only 63, botched operation, infection, respirator, a systematic shutdown one by one of vital organs, at least he had the ability to make final requests, and then death, leaving a second-wife for a widow and three grown children — one estranged — to mark the passage. Yeah, I knew him back when, we didn’t serve together over there — he was Army — but we ended up in this town sometime after the war, I came here just to get high and forget about it, I think he was a drunk for a while, may have done some smack, too, but he straightened out, got to be manager of some tire company, had a house over there in the Hill Side Acres development, you know, all the things we fought for over there.

“A few years ago he got the political bug, ran for mayor a couple of times, lost big, he was easily excitable and would forget himself, his judgment, maybe it was his timing, was poor, and positions which appeared advantageous turned out to be not advantageous, he made dramatic accusations about his opponent, compared him to Hitler (every office holder’s eventual resting place in the mind of his enemy), and so yes, he sort of made a joke of himself; let that be the censor on our worst impulses, I thought, as I sat at the organ, looking at his urn; he got burned up, you see.

“I wasn’t cued up yet, and invisibly sat and waited, the organ was behind the flowers. The church never got full, not even half full, which I think is a good thing; it means less people need to assure themselves you’re dead. His first wife was there, she was the mother of his kids, she sat next to the widow; I thought that was mature. Two of the kids, I guess they were in their thirties, maybe late twenties, were weepy, the third one came with nothing.

“Before the doors closed a woman came in and sat way in the back, my eyes aren’t what they were, it took a hard look — I don’t know why I looked so hard — maybe because she was sitting in the back when there was plenty of room up front. It was Donna. My God, I hadn’t seen her in decades. She looked great. I mean, it’s stupid to describe us as great looking, especially to you,” and here Zed gave me a soft but piercing glance. “Thing is, we all come with a promise, and some of us betray it, and some of us don’t, and Donna was one who didn’t, so man, I mean it when I say she looked great.

“Almost as soon as she sat down the by-the-books service began, I pumped out the Adagio, then three ladies sang a hymn, and then the priest led in a prayer; it’s the nice thing about being the organ player, you can just sit there and not pretend a thing. I didn’t pay much attention to what was happening, I’d seen this too many times, when somebody’s dead any indignation he may have caused dies with him, and I guess that’s why funerals always feel the same.

“The priest launched into a eulogy. I already had heard plenty of his eulogies. No poetry. No art. A sort of just-the-facts dissertation. Yeah, he mentioned that Bolten served in Viet Nam, he said it fast, like there was still something a little shameful about it, like, ‘what a shame he ate that hamburger and got mad cow disease,’ I still haven’t met anyone who wants his time in ‘Nam talked up in a big way — God, I mean, what the heck ever became of Westmoreland? They must have buried him at midnight. — The priest went right into Bolten’s loving family, blah blah blah, but I shouldn’t criticize because Bolten’s family, except the one kid, took it like a real comfort and their eyes welled up. Then it seemed Bolten had joined some community organizations, and helped the poor, and comforted the sick, and the priest dwelled on that for a while. And then the priest summed it all up by saying, ‘Bolten was a real nice guy.’

“There was another prayer, another hymn, and then I pumped out a little Chopin, and people got up to go to the graveyard. I have to say there’s one disadvantage to getting burned up, and it’s obvious the moment somebody scoops up your urn from the little lamp table, there’s something just too casual about that, it’s not like six men taking a breath before lifting your fat coffin. Anyway, I lost track of Donna.

“People are always late getting to the graveyard. It’s funny, as old and stubborn as death is we still try to modernize it, and the graveyard had recently built a structure especially for urns, it looked kind of like a three bedroom ranch, only it was faced with cloudy, white stone, but it’s kind of funny to think Heaven is now a place with three bedroom ranches. We waited around, I kept to the side, even though I had known Bolten it wasn’t like I had any familiarity with his world, except for the old shrapnel, and then all of a sudden Donna tapped my shoulder and said hello.

“It’s a quick story, me and Donna. Her dad was a famous plastic surgeon, he helped a lot of disfigured kids from the Second World War; he had a big summer estate up here, and of all his kids — he had quite a few — Donna was most like him, she helped disfigured people. I was here maybe a month or so when I met her, she waitressed in a luncheonette in town, I was really stoned and messed up, and she looked like an isle of sanity, maybe it was compassion, anyway I wrote her a poem. I don’t know how these things happen, but one thing led to another, and one night she came home with me. Home! I was living in a screened in porch behind a ruin of a house, it was Memorial Day weekend, but for some reason it was cold that night, and we stayed tight under the blankets. Don’t get me wrong, there was passion and all that, but mostly there was healing — my healing — and it was a strange thing, but as pretty as Donna was and as nice as she was to me, I knew all along it was sort of an appointment, and that it would end like visits to the office of a nice doctor do, you know, no hard feelings. But I’ll tell you another reason why my night with Donna stuck with me: At the time there was a woman I knew who had just broken up with her boyfriend, and she was getting rid of a bunch of crap, and she said, ‘Take this painting,’ and it was a seascape, waves crashing on a rocky shore, not a brilliant painting, but fairly adept, and I hung it on the wall facing my bed. It was pitch dark when Donna and I got there, there’s no way she could have seen it, but the next morning, and man, what a beautiful, bright morning it was, she woke up and saw the painting and said, ‘I thought I heard water.’ Anyway, like I said, it’s a quick story, and that’s about all me and Donna had of each other. I may have wanted to keep it going, but she had saved enough money to go to California, and I vaguely remember stuff drifting back about bean sprouts and vegetarianism and Vishnu, and then I let her go until she showed up at Bolten’s funeral.

“’You played the Adagio beautifully,’ she said. She was still the healer; I pretty much crapped out on music, but she looked at me like I conquered Avery Fisher Hall.” Zed paused for a moment, and looked directly at me. “The most selfish thing about being young is thinking you have all the imagination. I’ll tell you, Donna must be sixty, or darn close, but standing before me was a woman practically in her teens. One thing that real intimacy gives you and never takes back is imagination. For me, anyway.

“We chatted while more people arrived. She was back because the family was selling her dad’s estate — he had been dead for years — and wouldn’t you know it, one of her brothers used to buy tires from Bolten’s company, and that’s how she found out about the funeral, and somehow had heard I was the organist. ‘I’m leaving tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I’ve thought about you a lot,’ she said, again in that healing way.

“Suddenly, I don’t know why, all that old pain resurfaced, God, for a moment I was that same wreck who had written her a poem forty years ago, I felt embarrassed that this happened in front of her; we try to believe years have taught us something, but there I was, the same dumb, scared kid just emerged from a rotting jungle. And I think she was hurt. And I heard myself quickly say, ‘Donna, please, if I die before you, and if there is a funeral, don’t let anyone describe me as a real nice guy.’”

“She smiled. She was relieved and understood me perfectly; dismissiveness is the cruelest human trait; it is the portal for all monstrous behavior, and what’s more dismissive than he was a really nice guy? ’I promise,’ she said, even shaking on it. ‘I won’t let them describe you as a tireless worker, either. Baby, I’ll stand up and shout that you were the laziest, orneriest man that ever walked the planet.’

“I can’t tell you how nice her hand felt when she shook mine, or maybe it was the solemn pact we had just made, maybe it was my momentary belief that for all whom I have known there can be some satisfying, maybe culminating Final Word to settle us into peace. Whatever it was, she had put me back together enough so I could stand in front of the three bedroom ranch and blow Taps over the silly, little urn.”

Zed looked over at the garden he had been weeding. “Nice piece of earth,” he said, and put his pipe away, fetched the weeder and went back to work. I’m not sure he was aware he had been speaking with me.

Maddie’s Bloom’s Day

I happened upon Maddie on June 16, Blooms Day, picking strawberries in the meadow up on the side of the mountain. She is a very handsome woman from Idaho. Near by, the Tibetan monastery had recently completed its expansion, and she had traveled east to take part of the opening celebration. I wasn’t even thinking of doing any interviews that day, didn’t have my recorder with me, but we got to talking, and I told her about my research paper. She was curious enough to take my address, and several weeks later I received this in the mail:

I would be nineteen in a month, for anyone who thought getting married at eighteen was too young, I wouldn’t be able to vote or drink liquor in a bar, but I could take off my clothes and lie with a man called my husband; this was not unimportant, and yet it felt vaguely inconclusive. Outside my window I watched the early, shrill, bright October morning sun smash up against the Flatirons — reminding me of Miles’s description of first laying his eyes on the Flatirons — I tried to think the solar rays meeting and absorbed into the blocks of stone some how blessed my wedding day, but the intrusive memory of Miles instead made me feel I had committed another infidelity.

Which was not the way to look at my only real infidelity, as my friend Billie Jean had said over and over. How many times had Miles wandered off? How many times had he come back and confessed to shacking up with a girl he had met maybe one joint ago? Not that these were reasons to be angry, no, not at all, there was going to be too much sex in the world to get bent out of shape about it, but baby, it’s got to be an even playing field, insisted Billie Jean.

The episode with Alvin was a Billie Jean set-up from the start. I knew it at the time — Billie Jean’s flagrant introduction of Alvin, followed with her coaxing looks — and I had guarded myself, but Alvin’s playful eyes… I felt my skin glow, even burn, I knew where the path of the first sip of sangria would lead, Billie Jean looked from across patio, nodding, her expression reminding me again and again, How Many Times? Alvin was adept, he knew just when to release, and when to start reeling in, and it helped that he had just moved to the area because he couldn’t read the PROPERTY OF MILES sign on my forehead; everybody else watched the foreclosure with more suspense than sympathy, Miles was such a bastard they all thought. Exactly how I can’t recall — the sangria kept those details to itself — but there me and Alvin were in his sleeping bag, we had to be quiet or the grown-ups would be involved, all I remember was it getting harder and harder, almost impossible to be quiet, Alvin was that adept, he was bigger than Miles, the field was so even, so even, yet sloping, tipping toward the realization that Miles did not know everything about me; how shocking that moment was, my teeth gritting, my fingers tearing the flesh from Alvin’s back.

That was the betrayal, and why Miles must never know, why I hated Alvin, and why the world had become a prison for truth; Miles must never know he had not been first to conquer this region in me. More than love Miles, my passion was to prove Love to Miles, prove that it were possible someone in the world thought more of him than anyone or anything else, let him, for at least a second during his friendless continuum, feel like the center of the universe, something we all should feel at least once — he never got it from his family — feel we matter, which he never could, he skipped like a stone, a solitary stone over the lives of people, even friends, fearing that to drop would be to sink into the very familiar void of indifference. I remembered one day walking down a county lane with him, this was when I still lived around here, and we passed a big farmhouse (no longer used as a farmhouse), and he said, ‘That used to be a boardinghouse. When I was three my mom put me there so she could go to Mexico with her lover.’ He said it with a detachment reminding me of Washington Slept Here notices. He said it like every mother’s wish should be to dump her kid in a boardinghouse and run off to Mexico. He said it like there was something lifeless and stupid about mothers who didn’t. He said it, whether he meant to or not, like my name and ‘mother’ and Mexico all began with an ‘m.’ And it tore through my heart. He said it with no self-pity for me to resent. How many times had we kissed and kissed, and I had tried to make him feel like the sun, and not some distant, pointless star alone in the night sky, obliterated by the smallest atmospheric disturbance; not a shred of self-pity, just the cloak of lead shielding his nerves. He must never find out I had proved otherwise. Never.

But the region, once discovered, had to be settled. I didn’t feel sexual desire as a distinct demand, it was like breathing, simply there, belonging to a rhythm too natural not to take for granted, a complete integration with my awareness, a soft, forceful necessity that descended on me as naturally as sleep, and taken like sleep with no feeling of compunction. What a beautiful boy Miles was. If only he knew. The dozens and dozens if not hundreds of times he had poked and exploded inside me, up until Alvin, had each been satisfying to me. If he could not feel like the center of the universe, he at least behaved toward me like he was near its center. He gushed words of want and need and love and endless love and eternal love and love that would walk through fire and hell… never coherent were I to study their structure, but a huge, madly colored abstract expression plastered across every wall of my consciousness, he ripped his heart open the way he ripped pop tops off a can of beer, and its sweetness, what sweetness it had, poured into my ears, and his lips fell on mine like mad waters, cum dribbled from my vagina, and every time, up until Alvin, I had felt satisfied.

Now I kept a secret. I could never tell him, but its narcotic demand for an echo whispered more and more urgently every time we took off our clothes. I tried to tug him this way, and deflect him that way; I remembered when he had taught me to kiss, only he could use words, now I could only use my body, my motions, my cues, almost senseless, until, until… the time he had brought me close. It was so close that I leapt out of bed and circled the room, cum dribbling from my vagina, I almost shouted to the walls, My God, My God, Miles lay with a peculiar expression on the bed, peculiar because it was unworldly — if Miles saw himself as anything it was worldly — I felt a frustration that almost brought me to tears — but the secret — suddenly I drowned in an intense joy with God, where did God get this incredible idea, oh dear God, just once more, just once more — but the secret, so deep and hurtful I could not take it to my Methodist God for atonement, who otherwise had been so receiving.

These were not the thoughts for a wedding day. I blamed having them on the fact that I was waking up in my bedroom in my parents’ house, a room I had not slept in for at least a year, the room where I had tried to not die, but to not live in either, tears still falling from my cheeks, after Miles had found out, and took my secret on his way to the Arizona desert, my life of Second Choices beginning. Terrible thing to say. Wesley Cockburn — pronounced CO-bern, please, it’s CO-bern — should be remembered as first choice; twenty-six, already an associate professor of Russian Literature at the Boulder campus of the University of Colorado, a man nature had fashioned for such calling, darkly handsome, a beard disciplined if not loved, one who knew the Great Questions and listened patiently to those with stumbling answers, very gentle, earnest, kindled fire like an Eagle Scout, practice, practice, practice, finally rousing the flame, but where, I would wonder afterward, was the meat, how long would simmered broth be enough; I promised myself that I would never sleep in that room again, and got out of bed.

Mr. Templeton’s Columbus Day

Mr. Templeton is a lawyer, a high and mighty in New York it is said, he is somewhere around 60, and he wears his success. The fabric and tailoring of his three-piece suit already whispered ‘money,’ but the fat, jeweled cufflinks, and the jeweled tiepin and the shiny gold wristwatch shouted ‘LOTS OF IT.’ I sat next to him at the bar in the Café Normandie, an establishment beyond my means, and probably one below his, but in the country rich people sometimes have to slum it, he showed a benevolent disappointment, he sipped a Manhattan made with top shelf Canadian whiskey, maybe his fourth or fifth one. For whatever reason, he took an interest in my project. We both looked out the big window that overlooked a copse of oaks and maples, which the autumn had transformed into dazzling colors. “Yesterday was Columbus Day,” he noted. “Wow, did a year go by this quickly?” I didn’t know how to answer. “Well, listen,” he said, hunkering down to his drink. “This might be close to what you’re searching for.” He took a big swallow and continued.

“It’s funny, considering all the opportunities, that I never got to Europe until just last year, right around this time, too. I don’t think they celebrate Columbus Day in Italy. That’s where I went. It was my kid sister’s 50th birthday, and she arranged for a walking tour from Viterbo to Montefiascone to Lake Balsena to Orvieto — altogether less than forty miles — and then it was a week in a little village in Tuscany, but of course, it started off first with a few days in Rome.

“The only way I can explain Rome is this; If sticking your finger into an electric socket could be described as a pleasurable experience, that is Rome. Or how about the bizarre science fiction story I once read about taking the blood of a young virgin and running it through the veins of an old man, and bang, there he was cranking around like a bumper car. If you come up with something better to describe Rome, let me know.

“I never married — talk about exotic locations — so I didn’t have anybody with me on the trip, except, of course, sis and her husband and two other married couples who are friends of theirs, yeah, I was the seventh wheel, which was nice, I could fixate on things and not worry about somebody else’s reluctance. Everybody yaps about Italy, Italy, Italy. Guess what; they’re right. You read how everybody in Italy is getting old, and nobody has kids, and how the place is headed toward a demographic catastrophe, but you don’t see it. I think it’s because Italians are so beautiful to look at that you can’t believe it. And it’s not just their physical beauty; Italians have a sensibility that just grabs you by the heart.

“For instance, when in Rome one of the places I visited was the Pantheon, you know, that big domed temple built by the Romans. Then the Christians showed up, and they dumped out all the Jupiters and Mercurys and Venuses, and stuffed the niches with saints and renamed it Santa Maria, and then started burying emperors and popes in there, and guess what? They buried Raphael there! A painter buried with all those emperors and popes!

“As long as we’re talking about the Italian sensibility, let me jump ahead. In Tuscany I took a walk to the next little town, Castelmuzio — pardon my pronunciation — yeah, another hill top collection of really old and charming brown masonry structures threaded together with narrow, cobbled streets, and clean as a whistle — Italians are very clean, at least the ones I saw; it makes me wonder how the Swiss always get talked up as the clean ones, I mean, if what I saw in Italy was any cleaner it would look like a sterile gauze pad — anyway, I came across an outdoor war memorial. I don’t know where Italians learned about proportion, but even their simplest stone edifices are a wonder — this one was about ten feet high, and not much, but purposefully, wider. Up at the top was embedded a marble slab inscribed with the names of the eight or nine Castelmuzinan lives given to the First World War, and below that, in a sort of embarrassed continuation, was a newer slab with the names of the twenty or so Castelmuzians slaughtered in the Second World War. But the funny thing was, according to the Castelmuzians, there were two Second World Wars; there was one fought from 1940 to 1943, an another one fought from 1944 to 1945. Okay, we know what that’s all about; for three years they fought with the Nazis and then they finished up fighting against them, but what struck me was how plainly stated it was. I mean, look at the French; they’re still trying to figure out what they were all doing during the Second World War. Except, of course, they were all in the Resistance.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that the most beautiful thing about Italy, even with all its art and architecture, are the Italians.

“But none of this has anything to do with what I think you’re asking for.

“From Rome we took a train 80 kilometers or so up to Viterbo, which hundreds of years ago was a big pope hangout, not anymore. That’s where we started the walking tour. Almost the entire trek from there to Montefiascone, eleven or twelve miles, I’d guess, was through fields and vineyards and olive groves, and for some stretches, woods. The Italians have a wonderful concept of trespass; you can walk across somebody’s vineyard, but as soon as you filch one of his grapes, then you have trespassed. Anyway, I guess the walking tour organizers got everything sorted out with the farmers, because none of them came flying out of their houses to give us dirty looks as we tromped by. All I can say is I wanted to taste everything I saw, even the dirt. It’s cliché to yammer on and on about the Italian countryside, I’ll just tell you that the effect of Italian art on the eye is no more pleasant than the effect of Italian agriculture on the stomach, I mean, your belly feels like the center of a warm, warm universe.

“It was the first time I questioned American values, in a deep way that is. Our whole food operation now seems geared to a maw, and not to taste. It made me think about all our other operations engaged for the purpose of our senses.

“Anyway, we got to Montefiascone, what I call The Land Of The Teenagers. Maybe it was the day of the week, I couldn’t tell you why, but it seemed like every teenager in Italy was sitting or walking of scootering around Montefiascone the evening we arrived. And every single one of them was beautiful, the girls and the boys, just beautiful creatures; it’s no secret where the Italians got their concept of beauty, just look at their teenagers! It’s the first time I felt old, not in the discouraged sense, I’m still in pretty good shape — no complaints, really — but in the sense of feeling like a stranger in another world. Very little English is spoken in Italy, but in Montefiascone the language barrier completely dissolved, and they could understand completely my thought, You Are Young, and I understood completely their thoughts, You Are Old. It was sort of like ‘good morning’ or ‘ciao,’ you understood it without even realizing the cognition.

“I had started smoking after I broke up with my last girlfriend.” Mr. Templeton gave me a look that was part defensive, part condescending. “If you can call a forty five year old woman a ‘girlfriend,’ I don’t mean any disrespect. Even though I never got married, I know what divorces are like; I’ve gone through pretty heavy break-ups, it doesn’t matter if you’ve married or not, when after a few months —years in some cases — you find out it’s not working with somebody. Her name was Jenny. It’s best to get it over with in a hurry, so it was over the gunwales with Jenny, only this time I looked abaft, watched the jetsam slowly disappear into the nautical mist… did I tell you I sail? Yeah, a got a sloop on the Delaware. Jenny was nice, it was probably all my fault, it was all my fault. Anyway, after it was over I started smoking again, but never told anybody, not even my sis, so I was real happy to have my own hotel room because I didn’t have a cigarette all day during the hike over from Viterbo.

“I couldn’t smoke in the room, so I opened the door to the second floor balcony and lit up there.

“The hotel had been built against a steep hillside that sloped away from the street entrance, so even though I was only on the second floor my room, which was at the back of the hotel, and its balcony looked clear over a cluster of houses that lay below. The houses were fairly new in the sense that they weren’t ancient, most of them had terra cotta roofs, and almost all of the small yards were surrounded by high — at least eight foot high — masonry walls. My vantage point was elevated enough that I could see over the walls into the yards. It was not yet completely dark, but the night was near doubtless.

“In just moments I was distracted by the sight and sounds of —what else — teenagers. Below me, on the street side of a wall stood a teenage man and woman, boy and girl, whatever, engaged in an intense discussion. On the other side of the wall were a half dozen or so of their peers, all hunched and quiet and listening intently to what the boy and girl were saying to each other. The boy and the girl were the most beautiful creatures in this land of beautiful creatures; it is not just Italian art, but the Italian reputation for love, amore, that are completely explained by this boy and girl; I never would have become a lawyer if I had seen them in my youth, no, I either would have become a poet or I would have killed myself, I never would have embarked on a life that could not explain such beauty.”

Mr. Templeton looked at me and smiled sheepishly. “Well, these are the kind of thoughts you have when you get on.” He sipped his Manhattan and continued.

“The girl did the talking. Her tone was urgent. Her palms faced upward while she tried and tried to explain something very important to the boy. The boy leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his sullen expression ceded nothing, his eyes fastened on the girl, he could have been a statue of a saint and she could have been a suppliant, except that even from where I stood, maybe about a hundred feet away and above, even through the gathering darkness, I could plainly read his eyes, which were saying; ‘I am not even listening to your words, but I will wait until you say what it is you must say because I want to kiss you, I want you to finish so I can kiss you.’

“Well, it’s like what you hear about a satellite slowly losing its orbit, and dipping lower and lower toward the center of gravity, and whatever it was that the girl was trying to say — and I don’t think the boy cared to understand one word of it — it turned out she had to kiss, too. First she put her palms down, and stood before him, and he kind of straightened up, and he took his arms from across his chest, and eventually, whatever strange thing that happens to people that propels them into the other’s arms, it happened, and they embraced and started to kiss. And as soon as they started kissing, the kids on the other side of the wall all stood up straight as bolts, and gaped at each other, and then ran to the gate and then into the street to interrupt the kissing. And then, like fireflies, they all disappeared into the night.

“While I continued smoking I suddenly thought about Melinda. Man, she was a long, long time ago. She was a girl from high school. I found myself remembering, almost reliving all her moments of sweetness I failed to appreciate at the time. She was a wonderful, beautiful land that I had visited with my eyes closed.” Mr. Templeton paused, and concluded, “That was all my fault, too.” Mr. Templeton looked at his drink, maybe the cherry at its bottom would rise; it didn’t. “I put out the cigarette and went back inside my hotel room. Lovely room, really.”

Mr. Templeton looked at me. “You really ought to see Italy,” he advised, and finished his drink and looked at his gold watch and said something about a court appearance, and left.

Tom’s Christmas

I met Tom at the Pub. Tom’s not so old, but life hadn’t been easy, especially on his teeth, and I soon saw that he doesn’t smile or talk much and he hunches like someone older than he is. He didn’t grow up around here, but in a town sort of like ours, you know, up here in the hills. It being the Season we talked about Christmases, and I told him a Christmas story that happened to me, a very ordinary one, and I told him about my college project, and old Tom got a glint in his eye, and he told me about a Christmas a long, long ago.

“It was some Christmas,” he said.

“Bonnie had not much of a chest, but her legs, well her legs erased any doubt she danced in a topless club, or so it was said, she never said it, but some locals who knew Bonnie said she did, yes, at some club down in New York. The first time I saw her legs, saw Bonnie for that matter, was the previous summer when she pedaled up the country lane on a bicycle. You know that men look at women the same way, but we start in different places, I always started from the hair, hers was tightly curled blond temptation ending just below the lobes, her bright blue eyes, even though they did not return my glance said, Look More, and so down her ungenerous chest I glanced, a page of disinterest then turning to the long, fantastic narrative of her legs pedaling her bicycle. She wore very short shorts, and the full story of her legs ended in the phrase, Adore Me, which for me was not an unusual end to these spontaneous tales because at the time I was twenty or so.

“I was tending bar that year in one of the village’s two music clubs. She did not come to the bar often, and when she did it was on a weeknight and almost always with her friend Marcy. Marcy had married young, had married rich, had divorced young and was now young and rich, and I saw Marcy around a lot, with or without Bonnie, Marcy caroused so hard one would never predict she would be a suicide, in the next year or so, a fancy departure from her garage accompanied by a bottle of champagne, fumes seeping through the open car windows. It was never busy on the weeknights, and it really distressed me when Bonnie came in to see me working in a slow club because I really adored Bonnie, but how could an empty joint ever interest her? If only it were busier, if only she could see how I worked under pressure, if only she knew what a master of Saturday nights I was. She ordered Jack Daniels neat, but please in a rocks glass, with a water side. Unlike Marcy she tipped generously.

“One night I wasn’t working, it got very late, I was drunk, I got into a fight with the doorman, we scuffled and mildly injured each other’s clothing, and the owner took the doorman’s side, and I took another job at a place up the road and nearer to my apartment.”

Tom shrugged at the memory, took a sip of ale and continued.

“It was The Auberge, the respectable restaurant two miles from the village, it served French-American cuisine, it had green and yellow Chartreuse, the tape player unreeled works of Mozart and Vivaldi and those kinds of strains. A very different kind of place, but the money was good, and I learned how to pronounce names of a lot of French wine. I didn’t see to many of my former customers. It was on a Saturday night, in fact it was Christmas Eve, when Bonnie, shaking snow off her coat, came to the bar. The kitchen had closed, there were no more diners, and the owner had left at around midnight to be with her family. Before splitting she told me to close the bar at one am. The bar was busy with Christmas Eve customers not concerned with Christmas stockings or Christmas morning, but who still retained a dash of Christmas in hearts long emptied of sentiment but not sentimentalism, so the mood was conducive to good tipping. Marcy had been at the bar already for an hour when Bonnie arrived.

“’Snowing? I still didn’t get my snow tires,’ laughed Marcy.

"The upper milieu had no effect on Bonnie's preferences, she ordered the same shot of Jack Daniels, but please, in a rocks glass, and a water side, and with the safety of the respectable bar between us she looked straight into my eyes while taking the first sip, something she never did at the other joint.

“I hated people who thought, when considering her chest, that it was kind of funny Bonnie danced in a topless club. Even though I was careless about sex and women, I felt prudish about topless dancing, but despite this bizarre fruit of my morals I felt Bonnie was entirely fit for her occupation, heck man, I would have paid to just watch her pedal a bicycle. And besides, I decided, if she had a nice chest to go with her legs she would long ago have been scooped up by the Prince of Monaco and I never would have seen her tight curls and felt her blue eyes stare into me, no chance of that in this bumpkin town.

“Bonnie and Marcy had the men around them. Bonnie’s laughter didn’t have Marcy’s exuberance, but I watched it light her blue eyes, and mixed with the whiskey was a chemical I really wanted to taste, my aching was intense.

“By 1:00 a.m. the crowd winnowed down to just a few of us, few enough to trust, and this was when Jim, the cocaine dealer, plopped a bag on the bar, and I locked the door, and the after hours party began and continued for some time.

“Bonnie’s blue eyes sometimes returned from across the bar a cool, very cool understanding to my half admiring half hopeless looks.”

Tom paused to sip his ale and perhaps the memory.

“Unstated but ever present was the imminence of dawn and its unveiling light,” he continued after the lull. “Jim was most wary of the danger, so near four am he put the bag away and the party quickly began to wind up. Marcy already had gotten sick at some point and tottered off and never returned. Jim and the other two men left, one of them I heard shout from the exit, ‘Wow, look at that snow.’ Bonnie finished her drink and thanked me for the lovely evening and left a generous tip. Man, I crammed my imagination with as much of her legs as I could see striding below the hem of her winter coat as I followed her to the door, unlocked it for her, and then locked it behind her, and returned to the now empty bar.

“I left her tip lying on the bar. I poured myself a Christmas cognac and stared at Bonnie’s money left on the bar. I might have stayed that way in the until daylight, but after a few minutes I heard a rap on the window. It was Bonnie. I went and met her at the door. The county plow had come by, and her car was buried in the snow bank.

“I locked up the register, locked the restaurant door behind us, and walked with Bonnie to her car, a very small car that she had parked along side the highway instead of in the small parking lot, and we both stared at its hopeless situation.

“'My apartment is just up the road,' I said, careful to use a tone that implied a spare couch. 'Well, I guess,' said Bonnie, in a way that made me think she had made up her mind about many things in her life using the same tone and casting the same long stare down an empty highway into an impenetrable, snowy night. People are so different, or maybe more realized, when you see them outside a bar.

“We walked from the Auberge through the snow — it was still snowing hard — and crossed the highway and approached my dumpy apartment building that once had been a barn, then a country store, now it was segmented into six one bedroom units and decorated for the season with icicles pinned from the eaves and the sagging roof. I did notice a candle faintly flickering in one of the windows of the ground floor apartment under mine. I thought it was the only light in the universe. Oh yes, new tenants, I remembered. Bonnie and I climbed up the cold, bitterly cold stairway to my second floor flat, it did have a couch of sorts, one I expected to sleep on after chivalrously offering Bonnie my bed, heck, even though I was careless about sex and women it was not in my nature to impose. I unlocked and opened the door, surprised by the small flat’s unusual warmth, but not pleased with the condition I had left it, a strewing of books, used dishes, ashtrays and the unframed art. The bed with its used, tangled bedding was in the other room.

“The lingering buzz from cocaine kept us up, and we sat on the couch of sorts and talked, about what I would not remember; I just know it was not about topless dancing.”

Tom paused, as if to find an answer.

“If I had to guess I would say we talked about the latest book I read, I later would recall the vague impression I had formed during our conversation that books, but not dark roads, meant different things to us, and maybe that was why she never acknowledged the roses I had sent her the next Valentine’s Day, maybe there had been too much text in them. I would remember wondering where her family was, but not asking her because I knew where mine had gone and maybe her answer would be too coincidental.”

He didn’t appear entirely satisfied, and took a big swig of ale before going on.

“After we talked for a while the dawn started to gleam through the iced window panes, and Bonnie’s blue eyes suddenly looked straight at me, and she beckoned from my couch of sorts to the door leading to my bed and asked, ‘Is that where we’re sleeping?’

“I’ll always remember how slack my jaw had gotten. I’ll always know how unsettling for the prospector when finally he has chanced upon his sea of gold.

“The unveiling dawn seeped through the icy window as we undressed and got into my bed, which had belonged to a fancy hotel, but time had eroded, seriously eroded its glory.

“Bonnie lay with her back to me, but I felt the warmth of her body rush into me, and with my right hand I explored her legs, I thought about her legs pumping the pedals of her bicycle, and I searched in the softness consecrated in the mystery her very short shorts protected last summer, but she was not interested. She didn’t fight, she didn’t say Stop it, she didn’t move away from me, but clearly she was not interested, and I would not impose, so I stopped seeking. Bonnie was close enough, I deeply loved Bonnie for just being there, man, I felt happy, very happy, and since she had not fought or showed disdain, only a lack of interest, I left her legs alone and thought to try to sleep, and so I put my arm around her chest, and my hand by chance gently fell on her ungenerous bosom.”

Tom then gripped his ale and made the hardest look one can into the past.

“The new tenants downstairs," he continued after the pause, "were a young couple with a child, and the child woke up, there were visitors to their door, and the child made excited cries while grownups exchanged happy greetings. And Bonnie turned to me, suddenly there was no sleeping, heck man, how could there be, it was Christmas morning.”

Tom relaxed his stare. “That’s all I remember,” he said, and hunched over the expected silence. I finished my drink and wished Tom a Merry Christmas.

Jump On '69

2009-05-07T14:44:00.000-07:00

The following opinion piece appeared in the April 30 edition of the Townsman.

No, I didn’t go to the Woodstock Festival. I was tending bar and couldn’t get the weekend off. It makes me one of the three people in America to admit he wasn’t there. I probably should have gone, anyway. The town was empty that weekend. Empty. Vacant. Bare. Get the idea? The guy who owned the Corner Cupboard in those days bought a truckload of beer with the false notion the town would be packed. Ha! Everybody went to Woodstock™ instead of Woodstock. Beer sat there until Labor Day.

Anyway, after decades of shame my absence from the Festival finally turned up heads, yes, has given me a glimmer of fame and celebrity, and I guess I’m going to have to go out and buy new hats.

A young man, Apostolos, who works for a film production company in Athens, yes, that’s Athens Greece, home to Socrates and Plato contacted me. He and his cameraman were in the area shooting a documentary about the 40th anniversary of the Festival. He interviewed Michael Lang and Ike Phillips, went to Bethel and got footage there, and now he wanted to interview me, The Man Who Didn’t Go.

This would be like interviewing the sole survivor of Custer’s cavalry – had there been one – but in reverse. I was the only person in the world, with the three exceptions – all Samoan’s, incidentally – who didn’t go!

Oh gosh, but it made me think back over the years that once seemed like tiny cracks in the sidewalk and are now wide as the Grand Canyon.

The actual town whose name would be co-opted (unintentionally) to initiate my generation to Totalitarian Consumerism, the era which ended just recently not in a bang but a Madoff, in the ‘60s domiciled about 4200 people, 3800 of them since God created the valley and the rest of us because of those strange accidents life just can’t stop itself from repeating. The town was cheap to live in. The same $1000 that today will buy you a soy gelato could almost buy a shack, and certainly pay a year’s rent for a shack with indoor plumbing. 3800 natives still shot deer from their kitchen windows back then; the rest of us couldn’t shoot a cap gun. We were tainted by New York City blood, the kind that said, “Let’s abandon the great novel, the great painting, the great sculpture, and the great bars and get out of this Lower East Side dump and go raise our little buggers in a WHOLESOME environment.” And, without cutting up our feet too badly, we grew up among those shards of responsible planning.

By ’63 Woodstock already had a beatnik bar, the Café Espresso, and yes, during the halcyon days prior the Gulf of Tonkin incident you saw Dylan and Baez and Tom Paxton and Ramblin’ Jack Elliot and Phil Ochs and other folkies strumming and humming the time away. It all seemed very innocuous at the time. Who knew?

The town had manifested, but by the early ’60s was dissipating its first incarnation as an art colony. But the rent stayed cheap and sometime after ’64 or so the electric musicians began to arrive, perhaps lured by visions of Dylan, et al. With them came “pot.” In those days it was just pot. No Pana-manian Red, no Colombian, no indicus, no Michoacán – just pot. There were nineteen other townships in the county, but we were the only one with pot. Sometimes somebody would get arrested for pot. The local newspapers and radio stations screamed like we had boiled babies. The times were that innocent. If you’d said something like “hydroponic,” people would have thought it had something to do with dual-carburetors.

The last time I saw Dylan he was drinking a beer in the Sled Hill Café, and these two girls walked in (the northern New Jersey tainted type) and started screaming and he split and the next thing I heard he was in Malibu or a Christian. I could tell you that he had a lasting, good influence on our local music or songwriting. What did endure is that back-of-the-throat way Dylan has of speaking. It affected everybody he hung with, and until Reagan’s second election we still had guys around here that couldn’t get a spoken word cleanly over their tongue because their girlfriends had picked up the affectation of gagging syllables from hanging around, or on, one of Dylan’s two hundred bass players and passed it on to their partners like an STD. Everybody’s got a theory about Dylan, and here’s mine: he’s a deep-well pump. If you ain’t sitting on something really good and deep, don’t waste your time. I know I wouldn’t.

Some of this was interesting to Apostolos; I have no idea how much or even if any of the footage will survive the final cut.

My main point to him was, Woodstock is still beautiful. Tell your friends in Athens to Google Earth it or fly to New York and take the bus. It ain’t Ulan Bator, gosh, it’s a lousy one hundred miles north of Washington Square. The mountains are round, the valleys and seeps are lush, there are “tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones and good in everything.”

Anyway, as soon as the documentary is released I’m flying to Athens to be a big star, The Man Who Didn’t Go.

Happy Anniversary, Woodstock Festival, it was truly an historic event and I have yet to meet one person who regretted going, and only two others who admit they weren’t there.

Comeau Easement Update

2009-05-07T14:22:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, April 28 edition

Pressure, but not necessarily prudence seems to be guiding a split Woodstock Town Board through the final processes required to execute the Comeau Easement (the “Easement”), the document that restricts the Comeau property to specific uses and regulates potential development for governmental purposes, with the Woodstock Land Conservancy (WLC) designated as the Easement enforcer,

Woodstock voters in 2003 overwhelmingly supported the Easement, but it has been tied up in court, and eventually decided once and for all by the New York State Court of Appeals late last year. Even without an executed document the Town Board has been careful to abide by its provisions scrupulously, even spending $10,000 last summer for a legal opinion to settle Councilman Chris Collins’ qualms before proceeding with a project to expand the Comeau upper parking lot to accommodate the traffic and safety concerns of soccer parents. (Red tape is now holding up that improvement.)

Among the first requirements was for the Town Board to make an environmental determination with regard to the Easement, which it did at its April 21 meeting with the votes of Councilpersons Collins, Liz Simonson and Jay Wenk by passing a resolution that declared the Easement would not have an adverse impact on the environment (a so-called “neg-dec”) Neither Supervisor Jeff Moran nor Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum supported the resolution, each claiming the action to be “premature.”

Their position seemed to reflect the contents of a letter sent the Town Board members that same day from Kevin Smith, the WLC Director, which read in part with regard to the environmental determination; “If it is to review and discuss potential future decisions & schedule for an EAF process, declaring lead agency status, etc., on a potential Comeau conservation easement, WLC certainly supports such preparations by the Town Board.

“However,” Mr. Smith’s letter continued, “if the Board is considering making decisions or taking actions that would link to a specific conservation easement document, this would be premature in our opinion... We hope this facilitates constructive preparations on the Town’s part and helps avoid the inadvertent creation of obstacles in this complex process.”

Apparently the train began to leave the station as early as April 6, when Collins wrote to Smith, “The Comeau Easement is a significant issue that the town board has to address. It has been a couple of weeks since you and I last spoke and I would like to know when you plan on meeting with us. Jay mentioned a date of May 15th but I would like to set up a meeting sooner. Our last town board meeting for April is on the 21st. Can you meet with us by then? While I understand the preparation work you are doing is important we must address this as soon as possible. “

Smith wrote back to Collins the same day, “The WLC has a board meeting tonight. Comeau is on the agenda. I will forward your request to our board as part of those discussions. I anticipate sending a response the town board in the next day or two so everyone receives the same information from WLC.”

The issue next arose, according to FOILed documents, on April 16 when Collins wrote to Supervisor Moran and Cced the Town Board, asking that the Comeau Easement “PH [public hearing] & Neg Dec” be placed on the April 21 meeting’s agenda.

Later that day Councilwoman Rosenblum e-mailed the board and Supervisor, "Please wait until we heard from the [WLC] before putting anything on the agenda. I have expressed my concerns about this many times at our meetings and I see no reason why Chris’s concerns should take precedent over mine. I don not think that any action, prior to having the final document, is prudent”

Councilman Wenk’s weighed in shortly after with a message to the Board and Moran, “I will continue to support my reasons for this issue to be on the agenda now. It seems Terrie’s concern is outweighed.”

This was followed by a message from Simonson, “I would like to review the SEQR on the easement on Tuesday [April 21]. It would be out next step after declaring lead agency. Again, this is simply making a determination on environmental impact, not implementation. Just to set the record, the easement is the final document, it was approved by the voters and upheld in the courts.”

The following day, April 17, Moran wrote a message to the Board that agreed in part with Simonson’s e-mail from the day before, saying, “The easement is indeed the final document approved by the voters and upheld by the courts. The opening paragraph reads, ‘THIS DEED OF CONSERVATION EASEMENT… between the Town of Woodstock…and the Woodstock Land Conservancy, Inc…’”Moran went on to note, “If the WLC bails we have an invalid document. I don’t know that they will or won’t, which is why I believe it is only prudent to wait until we hear from them after May 15.”

Simonson disagreed, writing back, “I do not believe that the validity of the document is dependent on the grantee’s designation. But we need to ask a lawyer for an opinion.. From my conversations with the WLC any hesitation on their part comes from the potential to have to devote extra time to management of the property and overseeing any long drawn out legal challenges. I assume we can get legal advice on how to deal with this.” She added, “Perhaps it is time to hire Steve Barshov to act as our counsel on this project.”

Barshov, the New York City attorney, had provided the $10,000 legal opinion referred to above. It is not known what expenses might be incurred from his further involvement. Rod Futerfas, the attorney for the Town, has recused himself from any legal work on the Easement since his law partner Jerry Wapner provides counsel for the WLC.

The WLC had planned by May 15 to “be prepared to begin an informed dialogue with town board members regarding the conservation easement on Comeau,” wrote Smith in his April 21 letter to the Board. “We hope this facilitates constructive preparations on the Town’s part and helps avoid the inadvertent creation of obstacles in this complex process,” he added in reference to the proposed Town Board action to neg-dec the easement.

On Monday, April 27 Smith wrote to Collins, “Thanks for responding to our letter of Tuesday. I'm sorry it arrived just before your meeting and, unfortunately, apparently not in time to forestall [Town Board] action. We did the best we could, in our previous communications, to advise you and fellow board members of WLC's timeline and request patience prior to our joint discussions.

“Unfortunately,” Smith’s letter continued, “there hasn't been a clear, agreed upon means of communication between the two boards.”

Collins responded, “… I have been very tied up with issues, and personal work. I think the best way to handle things at this point is to bring everything to the table when both groups meet on the 15th [of May].”

Smith replied, “We will of course incorporate the TB's actions into our deliberations and preparation. Kindly forward any documents pertaining to formal TB actions to WLC (John Winter and myself) to assist us in this regard… And do advise us when the TB has retained Mr. Barshov's (or another attorney's) services. This would be very helpful for our attorneys, at this point.”

Smith’s message continued, “At some point in the next couple of weeks we'd like to discuss the appropriate meeting forum for our discussions with the Town Board... You may forward this email to your fellow board members. I did not cc them as you had not done so in your message.”

May 15 is a Friday, presumably the next step in the Easement process will be discussed at the Town Boards May 19 business meeting.

Buy-out Blues, Cont'd

2009-04-30T09:07:00.000-07:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, April 30 edition

Councilman Jay Wenk, who sits for the Pledge of Allegiance but jumps for the medical buy-out, wrote us a letter criticizing my report on the discussion of the issue at the Town Board last week, claiming it was “political.” This is another word for “untruthful” or at least “tendentious.” I thought I should clear this up, and I sent Jay an e-mail. All the questions are based on the official 2003 edition of the Town of Woodstock Employee Handbook.

Dear Jay,

I am responding to your critique on my reporting, including your statement:

"In the interest of truth, he could have referred all questions to page 2 of the handbook where it states, unequivically, under Definitions, that all of us [elected officials] are 'Employees'"

(As a courtesy, Jay, I cleaned up your typos, but left 'unequivically' alone. I know a similar word, 'unequivocally,' but I thought that your spelling might convey a deeper, and more subtle meaning or intention.)

I have the following questions, and if you would be kind enough to answer them I will set the record straight, if it should need straightening.

The same handbook states:
"Method of Payment. Partial payment of the buy-out (1/26th of the annual premium) will be made in the employee’s regular bi-weekly paycheck for each pay period the employee is eligible for the buy-out."
Are you paid bi-weekly, or twice each month?

The same handbook states:
"Sick Leave Buy-out. Effective January 1, 2003, full time employees who have accumulated over thirty-five days of sick leave may, at the employee’s option, sell back to the Town up to twelve sick days per year at 50% of their current daily rate of pay, provided that the sale of such sick leave does not reduce the employee’s sick leave accumulation below thirty-five days. Payment for such excess sick leave shall be made in the first pay period in December.”
Are Councilpersons full-time or part-time? If part time, they should pay 100% of their medical insurance (see next item). If full-time, will you ask for the sick-leave buy-out, too?

The same handbook states:
"Part-time employees working less than thirty hours per week and hired on or after April 1, 1998, who choose to participate in the Town’s health insurance program, if eligible, must contribute 100% of the cost for either family or individual coverage."
Does Liz contribute 100% of the cost for either family or individual coverage?

The same handbook states:
"Use of Personal Leave. The use of personal leave by an employee must be pre-authorized by the employee’s department head."
Who is your department head?

The same handbook states:
"Failure to Successfully Complete Probationary Period. In the event an employee's performance or conduct is not satisfactory, the Town may dismiss the employee from employment or return the employee to the employee’s previous position, as the case may be, at any time on or before completion of the maximum probationary period. Such action shall not be subject to the grievance procedure or disciplinary procedure."
Does this apply to you?

The same handbook states:
"It is the policy of the Town of Woodstock to maintain personnel records for current and past employees in order to document employment-related decisions and comply with government record keeping and reporting requirements…

"The records maintained by the Town include, but are not limited to, the following: Civil Service employment application, Report of Personnel Change forms, copies of job-required licenses and certificates, federal and state withholding tax forms, immigration (I-9) forms, retirement enrollment/waiver forms, health and dental insurance enrollment/waiver forms, disciplinary and grievance notices, letters of acclamation, awards, newspaper clippings, and probationary reports."
Does your file contain newspaper clippings? Shouldn't it, including the Townsman’s, if you are an employee?

The same handbook states:
"An employee who intends to resign from employment must submit a written resignation to the employee’s department head at least two weeks before the date of resignation is to be effective."
In the past elected officials made their letter of resignations to the Town Clerk. Is the Town Clerk your department head?

The same handbook states:
"Before resuming employment, an employee must submit a statement from the employee’s health care provider indicating that the employee is able to return to work either with or without restrictions. Failure to return to work when required may be considered a voluntary termination."
Will this apply to you?

The same handbook states (this is a reprise of an earlier question):
"Payroll Period. All employees are paid on a bi-weekly basis."
Are you paid on a bi-weekly basis, or two times a month?

The same handbook states:
"Effective January 1, 2003, the Town will provide either uniforms or an equivalent allowance of up to $450 per year for the purchase of work clothing, and an annual boot allowance of up to $175 per year. An employee must be employed by the Town for a minimum period of six months before being eligible for the boot allowance."
Since you are (in your opinion) eligible for the medical buy-out will you also accept the work clothing and boot allowance?

The same handbook states:
"The purpose of performance evaluation is to appraise an employee’s past performance and potential. The performance evaluation will take into consideration the employee’s work quality, job knowledge, initiative, attendance, teamwork, conduct, communication skills and such other criteria which properly reflect the employee’s performance."
Who will conduct this performance evaluation?

In addition to the above, if and when you get to amend the handbook (which you described as having "many problems"), the following may be of interest to you:

603 MILITARY LEAVE AND MILITARY LEAVE OF ABSENCE

"Military Leave. This section refers only to an employee’s paid leave for military service under New York State law and does not effect an employee’s entitlement to leave needed for military service under federal statute. The Town of Woodstock recognizes the importance of the Military Reserve and National Guard, and will permit any employee the use of military leave to participate in annual encampment or training duty. The Town will grant such leave with pay for up to twenty-two working days or thirty calendar days in a calendar year, whichever is greater."
Will you stand for this even if they are ordered to Iraq or Afghanistan? What if they volunteer?

Please respond in time for me to correct the record, if it needs correcting. And thank you for pointing out, even if obliquely, that although the employee-elected official ambiguity may appear in your eyes, it had never appeared in mine, and I never thought for a second I was entitled to the buy-out. It's a small thing, Jay, and one I never made a big deal out of, and I blush from your making the fact not only so large but well known.

End of my e-mail to Councilman Jay Wenk. Haven’t heard a word yet. Make of it what you will.

Woodstock Democratric Committee Endorsements

2009-04-30T09:06:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, April 23 edition

The Woodstock Democratic Committee (WDC) at its April 20 meeting voted to endorse the candidacies of Cathy Magarelli and Bill McKenna for Town Board in the upcoming September Democratic primary. It also endorsed Republican incumbent Town Clerk Jackie Earley in her quest for a fourth two-year term.

Sixteen of the 18 WDC members were present (Brian Shapiro and Rennie Cantine were the absentees) for voting on the endorsements. Magarelli received 12 votes, McKenna 11, and Earley 11.

There was also a near-unanimous vote to grant Earley and Reynolds the so-called Wilson Pakula, which will permit them as non-registrants in the Democratic Party to participate in the September Democratic Primary.

Endorsements for Town Supervisor, Highway Superintendent and Town Justice were set aside since there are so far no announced candidates for these positions other than the incumbents Jeff Moran, Michael Reynolds and Richard Husted, respectively.

If candidates for these offices should declare themselves in the near future it is possible the WDC will hold another round of interviews with possible subsequent endorsements, as done for the Town Board and Town Clerk positions, according to WDC member Gordon Wemp, who chairs the Primary Oversight Subcommittee.

There was also a vote to replace Sam Magarelli, who earlier this year had resigned his position as WDC chairman, with Sasha Gillman.

Ralph Goneau was thanked by the WDC for his work on a yard sale-fundraiser that netted the WDC approximately $1100.

Committee secretary Tom Oker, who abstained from all the endorsement votes, explained that he felt the process had been too rushed. He cited a motion that had been offered by Marcia Panza, which in essence tried to halt the formal endorsements, but which had been defeated by a 9 – 6 vote.

Chris Collins did not respond to a request for comment on the proceeding. Collins, who had announced his interest in seeking a second term on the Democratic line, did not interview with the WDC, nor was he present when the endorsements were announced.

Simonson, seeking a fourth four-year term, had interviewed with the WDC for the Town Board endorsement, and responded to a request for comment, saying, “The results of the meeting were what I had expected. The only surprise was the complete lack of transparency and disorganization by the Committee.”

Ken Panza, who also had been interviewed for the Town Board position, commented, “As expected, last night the WDC endorsed a slate of committee insiders as town board candidates to rubber-stamp positions advocated by Jeff Moran and Terrie Rosenblum.” He also criticized the WDC for lack of transparency.

Town Clerk Jackie Earley said, “I am absolutely thrilled! I am very fortunate to have been endorsed by the Republican, Democratic and Independence parties the last three elections and I hope continued endorsements means my Office is running well and continuing to be fair to all.”

Bill McKenna was “…Happy to know that my previous work on the Woodstock Town Board is appreciated by the WDC. I am honored by the endorsement.” He also praised the work done for the WDC by Cathy Magarelli, its treasurer, and her husband Sam Magarelli.

Cathy Magarelli’s response to the WDC endorsement was, “…I will accept all the moral support but I will not be accepting any financial assistance directly from the committee. As treasurer I feel the money the committee raises should be used after the primary for the Democratic Candidates running in the November election. I would like the tone on the Town Board to be one of cooperation with a willingness to make decisions in a timely fashion. Let's move forward.”

Woodstock Town Board Meeting, April 21

2009-04-30T09:04:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, April 23 edition

The monthly business meeting of the Woodstock Town Board began with several extremely well received presentations before descending into a noisy, nattering series of back-and-forth that appeared to lead nowhere.

Beginning the evening was Alfred J. Sweet, Director of the Woodstock Chamber Orchestra, which is celebrating its thirtieth year of existence. Mr. Sweet, who began his presentation with the promise he was not seeking funding from the board, led the officials and the meeting attendees through the fascinating history of the orchestra, its accomplishments, its distinction as Ulster County’s only professional chamber orchestra, the numerous talents it had employed over the decades (some of whom went on to extremely distinguished careers), and the joys and challenges that face any arts organization that tries to keep itself afloat, especially in these times. With its 38 musicians, Mr. Sweet was careful to point out it was not a “symphony” orchestra, which is usually composed of numbers of musicians almost three times as many. He announced the orchestra’s May 3rd performance at 2:00 PM at the Bearsville Theater as one not to miss. Judging by the response there may well be a full house.

Paul Shultis Jr., representing the Skate Board Task Force followed with a final report on improvements to the skate park by the Woodstock Youth Center that will mitigate the sounds that have irritated neighbors. He gave the board recommendations with regard to materials and contractors and left it to them to execute the project, all its cost falling below the $45,000 budgeted f0or the project. When prompted by Councilman Jay Wenk to remind the public the moneys were provided by outside sources, and not Woodstock tax dollars, Shultis thanked the former town Supervisor for securing the funds by receiving a member item provided by Senator Bonacic, and he also thanked Jay Cohen for services he had provided for the task.

Jay Wenk in January, 2007 had sent a letter to Ulster County newspapers criticizing Bonacic for enabling New York State legislation somehow connected to causing unnecessary American casualties in the war in Iraq, a completely unsubstantiated claim that at the time was seen as an attack on the former Supervisor’s good relationship with the Senator, but all that seemed to have been forgotten.

Greg Stanton, who was appointed by the Town Board earlier this year to head up a task force to address the problem of roadside litter, gave an ebullient report that almost had people on their feet. Seeking to create what he termed an “innovative, environmental and sustainable program,” and working with the New York State Department of Transportation, plus private businesses that include the Ulster Savings Bank, County Waste, Dick Benoit and members of the Woodstock Chamber of Commerce and Arts, Stanton put together a program involving at least 100 volunteers set to go off on Saturday, June 6 (rain date June 13). “Our goal is to collect at least three hundred bags of litter” from off the roads of Woodstock. Describing the venture as not only a beautification program, but also one to bring out all the pride and joy one should feel living in Woodstock, Stanton attracted several volunteers on the spot. 679 3469 if you want to volunteer. Jackie Earley, the Town Clerk offered to be a contact person as well (679 2113 ext # 4)

Candace Balmer, an employee of RCAP Solutions, an organization dedicated to the preservation of water resources, and with expertise in areas concerning municipal water and sewer systems, offered her services, quickly accepted, to help the Town identify water-sewer infrastructure needs and to pursue grants that may defray a considerable portion of their costs.

The tremendous good feeling created as a result of the presentations by members of the community was then quickly dissipated with desultory sniping and bickering on a discussion of the Time-Warner contract. Supervisor Jeff Moran’s announcement of his close work with County officials to expand broadband services in the more rural areas of the town, and his optimism that “Hopefully there will be good news soon” on the matter as a result of discussions with Time Warner Cable Company was met with criticism and sneers from Councilwoman Liz Simonson, who feels the Town should stop everything and hire a consultant. Moran thought by May 12 something definitive concerning expanding service into news areas, not all areas he was careful to point out, will be known. Action was deferred until then.

A Primary Example

2009-04-23T05:00:00.000-07:00

The following opinion piece and one article appeared in the April 16 edition of the Townsman.

The Woodstock Democratic Committee (WDC), according to a recent opinion, has decided to take the “fun” out of selecting candidates for local election on the Democratic Party line this coming November by substituting a September primary for the traditional caucus, which generally had occurred on the hottest night of either July or August. Everybody knows what a bore primaries are; just look at that ho-hum game of tiddlywinks we were forced to endure last year between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. Was anything more tiresome? If we had just sat back and let the Iowa Caucuses settle the matter, think of all the money that would have been saved and used to prop up the housing market.

According to the recent opinion, the WDC caucuses in 2005 and 2007 were “spectacles entirely worth the money.” Reading this one would think the 2005 and 2007 caucuses were similar in nature. Let’s revisit them.

What would become the memorable 2005 caucus began in 2004, when lo, it came to pass that a September primary was required to settle which among 300 or so candidates should fill the 18 chairs of the WDC. This was the first time in Woodstock’s political history such balloting was needed. The voters’ participation was so overwhelming it must have taken twenty seconds to count the 123 or so ballots cast in the important contest. You probably don’t even remember this because there were no editorials lamenting the cost of the primary to the poor Republicans and non-enrollees that could not participate.

Anyway, probably the most stellar cast of characters ever elected were seated on the WDC as a result of the September, 2004 primary, and they promptly set about doing what we expected of them, which was to raise money for the 2005 caucus to be held at the Bearsville Theater on a queasy and sultry night in August of that year.

Now talk about a spectacle! The WDC chairman at the time, let’s just call him The Pale Rider, presided with a countenance meandering from a nunnery to Robespierre, while the parliamentarian, none other than His Worship, cloistered himself in a back room with his well-thumbed edition of the Mugabe Rule Book, and occasionally with that strange whinny that portends a cold wind issued interpretations that made a game of tag among unruly boys seem by comparison well-ordered and fair.

Meanwhile the ballot box, that hitherto revered icon of American Democracy, somehow developed legs that would be the envy of Fred Astaire, and danced up and down the stairs depending on who was at the door. I dare say that had it not been for the invention of the sneaker the poor fellow whose job it was to lug the crate – for it had long lost its distinction as a ballot box – would probably no longer have feet for purposes other than sweetening his breath. Oh my goodness, what a night, and talk about getting your money’s worth, this blessed event lasted until four in the morning and the few faces you saw walk out of the barn when it was finally over you have not seen since your last all-nighter.

As an example of just how superior this caucus was to all others, it began with approximately 500 participants that on the first ballot placed Chris Collins a distant fourth out of five candidates for town board. The last balloting, which started at about 2:30 AM, and then required the services of the Animal Control Officer to chase down the dancing crate in order to tally its contents, declared Collins the winner out of the 46 ballots cast by those who didn’t have to get up and go to work the next day. Not a second passed before the Parliamentarian whinnied that the caucus was adjourned. He apparently was given the authority to whinny the caucus to an end since The Pale Rider had long retired to his nunnery with the gavel that is ordinarily wielded for such purpose.

It was a show that Richard Daley The Elder must have applauded from his special place in heaven.

Sadly, for those who prefer spectacle over democracy, The Pale Rider, His Worship and the poor scamp with the worn-out sneakers, and others of their tribe, were removed from the WDC by the 2006 September primary, which you probably don’t recall since nobody made the effort to fuss over the poor Republicans and non-enrollees that couldn’t participate in the vote.

This precipitated the 2007 caucus. Even though more than 600 Democrats participated in this caucus the dreary proceeding was over before the sun went down. The lithe and frolicking ballot box was replaced with two five-hundred pound voting machines, which took all the fun and spectacle, not to mention the fancy foot work, out of the occasion. Participants had the option of sitting through the windy speeches, or just showing up (as most did) to cast a prosaic vote. Such a bore. To say that everyone was delighted by the outcome would be a stretcher, but considering the one fellow who went on to be elected to sit on the Town Board, and I do mean SIT, stretcher might not be the worst thing (maybe a recliner would be better), and anyway, nobody complained that the process was unfair.

It was conducted sort of like… like a primary.

So now we’re stuck with something awful, aren’t we? Gosh, people eager to serve in office will have to gather signatures and submit them by the end of July, and then explain to Democrats for a WHOLE MONTH why they should be nominated for the November contest. This is more than awful; it’s serious. The next thing you know we’ll be expected to show some respect for the offices they choose to run for.

What a blow to The Pale Rider, His Worship, the poor scamp with his worn out sneakers and the Committee For Woodstock’s Future.

Woodstock Town Board Meeting, April 14

2009-04-23T04:59:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, April 16 edition

The three members of the Woodstock Town Board, councilpersons Jay Wenk, Chris Collins and Terrie Rosenblum came under heavy fire for taking the so-called medical buy-out in lieu of the Town provided health insurance.

According to the Town’s Employee Handbook it is very clear that full time employees, part time employees working at least twenty hours a week and hired before 1998, and all elected officials are entitled to Town provided health insurance. It is also clear that town employees who can provide proof of comparable health insurance provided by other sources, for instance if a Town employee’s spouse provides he or she with health insurance through their place of employment, then the Town employee may receive the buy-out, which is calculated at 50% of what it saves the Town by not insuring them. What is ambiguous, or at least since January of 2008, is whether elected officials and employees have the same status with regard to the buy-out.

If precedent is any guide, no elected official had ever received the buy-out prior to January 1, 2008 when the current Town Board took office.

There were several speakers from the public, all of who spoke negatively to a resolution read but not seconded by Supervisor Jeff Moran that sought to end the ambiguity by explicitly allowing the buy-out option to elected officials.

“Taking tax payer’s money is not what you were elected for,” said Sam Mercer, long time observer of local politics.

Former Town Board member Bill Kronenberg, who lately has made only infrequent visits to Town Board meetings, call the practice “Unethical and absolutely wrong… I am appalled… As good Democrats I think you should think about this.” Kronenberg, who is a life-long Democrat was addressing a board consisting of all Democrats.

Steven Grenadir pointed out the conflict, or at least the appearance of a conflict on interest in Town Board members accepting a buy-out that only gets larger if they decide to offer more generous health plans to the employees.

Iris York noted, “It appears to be double dipping.”

Ken Panza, who has announced his decision to run for Town Board this coming election, stated he would not accept the buy-out even if he were entitled to it.

The response from the Town Board varied, beginning with Rosenblum’s reminder that by accepting the buyout she was saving the taxpayers the increased expense of her taking the Town’s health plan.

Collins claimed that he had been a cancer patient, and that some of the buy-out money he used to pay for costs his health plan with Ulster County Community College would not cover.

Wenk was circumspect, opposing the resolution because he felt it addressed only one of the many problems with the Employee Handbook, which has not been updated since 2003. The other problems were not identified.

Councilwoman Liz Simonson, who takes the Town provided insurance, made it very clear she would not support the resolution.

The resolution died on the table. Since not one of the three members taking the buy-out offered to forgo it until the ambiguity was resolved it appears they will continue to receive it.

In other business the board was urged by David Boyle to sign the franchise agreement with Time-Warner, which would open the residents of Woodstock to the educational channel with a head end in the Onteora School District facility in Boiceville that has been available to residents of Olive, Hurley and Shandaken since January.

David Corbett, with assistance from fellow Comeau Trails Task Force, gave a power point presentation on the condition of the trails on the Comeau property. It is the opinion of the task force that significant risk to the public and severe damage to the environment is exacerbated by increased traffic and the Town’s lack of attention to the trails. The task force will be back in sixty days with proposals for remedying the situation.

Paul Shultis Jr., representing the Skate Park Task Force, presented the board with samples of the sound-deadening material that will be used to mitigate the audial impact of the skate park on adjacent neighbors. He also announced that the Zoning Board of Appeals (ZBA) had granted the variance that will allow the replacement of the existing fence with a ten-foot high fence, and he provided estimates from three different fence companies. With the help of volunteers Shultis expects that the project can be completed for under the $45,000 that had been provided by a member item from Senator Bonacic in 2007. Shultis, a member of the Woodstock Planning Board, also announced that the special use permit for the skate park had been extended, and will be reviewed by the Planning Board once the project is done and new sound measurements can be made.

Simonson, heading up the effort to enhance the public’s safety by expanding the upper Comeau parking lot, announced that the ZBA, which had consulted with the Ulster County Planning Board, could not grant a variance for the expansion. The expansion will require a zoning amendment. No particular course of action was offered aside from a vague reference to a “packet’ of zoning amendments that have apparently been in the works.

Despite strong objections from the Supervisor, claiming the action would be premature, councilman Collins, with the seconding by Wenk and the approval of Simonson, offered a resolution to declare the town board lead agency for execution of the Comeau Easement. The lead agency will be responsible for conducting an environmental study of the action (only vaguely described in the resolution), and eventually making a determination of its environmental significance. After much wrangling the resolution was unanimously adopted. Most curious, especially in the case of Simonson who has been on the Town Board for more than eleven years, the resolution did not include a provision for circulation among involved agencies, so it will be interesting when the board comes to make an environmental assessment. Also curious were veiled references among board members to the uncertainty that the Woodstock Land Conservancy, as stated in the easement document adopted by referendum in 2003, will in fact be the body enforcing provisions in the easement.

Supervisor Moran announced that U.S. Census workers will be in our area between April and July to identify the addresses of all housing units for the 2010 Census. Census employees will wear official identification and carry hand-held computers to collect the data. A Census Bureau Partnership Specialist will be in our area to answer questions during the information-gathering period.

Purchases of copiers and highway equipment were unanimously approved, as were resolutions authorizing the Supervisor, Highway Superintendent Mike Reynolds and Town Clerk Jackie Earley to attend seminars having to do with their respective offices.

Ulster County Sheriff Paul Van Blarcum, who up until recently had worked as a part-time emergency dispatcher for the Town, resigned the position. The resolution accepting his resignation included a message of thanks for his service.

Larry Allen was hired as a Water/Wastewater Treatment Plant Operator, effective April 7, 2009.

An Unprintable Letter?

2009-04-16T06:09:00.000-07:00

This paper, as you should know by now, is a voice for moderation. It is our policy not to print every single letter heaved over the transom, and the office is, I can attest, littered with unprinted, and in some cases unprintable communications. We have many rows over what to and what not to print, and the following letter almost ended friendships. However, we finally decided fine, we’ll print the thing but instead of in the letters section we’d fill this space instead. Here it is, and you may decide on the matter of our taste:

Dear Editor,

I know we’re just a small town, but that doesn’t mean we can’t come up with big ideas. Well, I got one, and anybody who’s got an IRA that stinks like what I got in this morning’s mail should perk up.

With everything that has been happening lately I think it’s time to take another look at witch burning and see if it did any good. One thing for sure, the effort of our fore-bearers has certainly paid off when you see exactly just how many witches we have left around here. Okay, so we can’t get old Mrs. Daunch out of the post office, but aside from that.

And forget about the namby-pambyism keeping the murderers alive in prison, because everybody I talk to is thrilled about sending an AIG executive up, CO2 emissions and all. That blather that we live in an era “too advanced” forgets, like the writer in this paper just recently pointed out, that we burned more witches during the Age of Reason than at any other time in our history. So if it was good enough for Salem it should be good enough for us. Those were the same people that founded Harvard, after all, by the way.

Getting back for a moment to those CO2 emissions, we could recycle some of the energy into home heating. Yeah, I’m one of those suckers that signed up for ‘price protection’ last summer, so you can sign me up for this one, too.

Unfortunately, Obama speaks complete sentences, so it’s easy to pick up on his dithering over this one. Maybe one of the geniuses in congress can shove AIG burning into his energy plan to get him to move, but let’s not count on it. We need to persuade him that although double talk is fine for maintaining the mismatches in our society, gosh almighty, isn’t it time to start a ball rolling even if it isn’t necessarily along the lines of past-practice?

If you’d do another headline about bonuses it would be great! If the people of Connecticut jump down Senator Dodd’s throat, well shame on them; Dodd has done more for the cause than any other genius in Washington, a town noted only too much for its willy-nillyism. Tell your readers to get off their duffs and send a telegram to Connecticut right now saying ‘MORE BONUSES.’ This worked five hundred years ago when the Pope used to get hundreds of e-mails saying ‘MORE INDULGENCES.’ No reason not to use the tried and true.

Okay, some people say it’s just too extreme or dangerous. Baloney! Most of this stuff would go off in very nice communities, some of them even gated. In any case there are enough swimming pools around over there to handle any mishap.

Let’s stay focused on what we are trying to accomplish, namely, Smoke The Bonus Takers. It’s an easy thing for most of us to understand who have never in our entire working lives got one, unless you’re counting that ‘Secret Santa’ crap you got at the office Christmas party.

Think about it. After the first dozen or so are up in fumes, how many bonus-takers do you think will stick around? Think of the trickle down effect; I bet the waitress will fly out the door after you to give back the tip you left. Admit it, times are tough, you couldn’t use it?

Let’s agree that too much time has been wasted wondering Where The Money Went. Believe me, our sterner ancestors didn’t dither over such questions during the Plague. They took action and burned witches and the Plague ended. If this isn’t enough to get you out of that chair and into the street, well what ever will?

Look, we’re sick and tired of half-solutions. If this newspaper won’t stand up and say, “We’ve had enough,” then I guess we’ll have to wonder just where do you really stand, won’t we?

Sincerely,

“Smokin’ Mad “ Bill Krimmy

Good For The Cats

2009-04-16T06:06:00.000-07:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, April 2 edition

Believe it or not, this article begins my second year of wasting perfectly good ink on this weekly billboard. My apologies are also extended to the trees, which have made the ultimate sacrifice for my prattling. My conscience is somewhat eased by the knowledge that I address you, the world’s most ecologically advanced community, who will not irresponsibly throw this paper out, but will insist on an additional use for it, and when your cats or birds have daubed my work with their flourishes we can all agree, How Much Better It Is.

There is no one who will recognize the improvement more than certain local “players” and politicians. I know for a fact that some of them, who do not have cats or birds, read this paper while sitting in the smallest room in their houses, and when done it is then quickly behind them. This, too, can be considered “recycling” and we should commend them for it.

Speaking of inane reading, I recently perused a biography of Queen Victoria, she of the “Victorian Age.” It is curious that an “Age’ given down to us as a symbol of sexual repression should be named for a woman who married at twenty and was gestating her fifth child by twenty-six! Those of us of a certain age have during our lives witnessed the “sexual revolution” and supposedly now live in a time of sexual openness, and yet barely ever do we see a family with more than 1.3 children. (I have to admit that the sight of those .3 children does disturb me.) It appears that History tries to obscure more than it tries to inform.

In a similar vein, more witches were burned during the Age of Reason than any other period in Western history.

In another similar vein – and you knew I was getting to this – the Age of Woodstock signifies peace, love and environmentalism?

Peace and love can reside only in our heart, and it’s either there or it ain’t. With many people in our community it is. From them emanates the aura and charm and beauty of our town, indeed like the warmth that radiates from a potbelly stove. It is expressed by good works, volunteerism and keeping the radio down when the windows are open. And then there are some who have not peace and love in their hearts, and who don’t pretend that they do, and who are sour, mean, self-aggrandizing, but at least honest. They can be loved because they are not duplicitous. If you accept an invitation into their world, you will not be shocked to find it hard and cold; they never pretended you would find it in any other condition. The really annoying people are those who lecture us on peace and love. They are the fewest among us, but talk the loudest. Their public declamations and letters to the editor berate us for not joining in their sentiment of peace and love. How sad for them, and what a strain on our ears, that peace and love are not sentiments; they are dispositions. It’s there or it ain’t.

That being said, in my opinion there is enough peace and love in Woodstock to qualify us for the reputation. Admittedly, sometimes it may seem like a close call.

But as far as environmentalism, we’re definitely stuck in Hummer mode. I do wish the town board would get out of its own way and make progress with cutting our waste of energy. It would be a good example for the rest of us. The Town certainly sets a terrible example by operating buildings that squander tax dollars by converting them into BTUs that fly out municipal windows into the ether. It makes Bernie Madoff look like a good investment; certainly the same return. I will offer advice not worth the paper it’s printed on, but since the paper will be used for additional purposes anyway I’m not loath:

I don’t know if centralizing Town services into the Elna building is a good idea or not. I first have to know the cost. I will never know the cost if the Town Board won’t provide an estimate. It is said such estimate would cost about $15,000. Get it.

Then we can compare that cost with the cost of renovating Town Hall (which we know to be in the area of $2 million). Then the community can make a decision based if not on facts then at least on good, educated guesses. Right now we’re just shooting in the dark.

We get tons of excuses for not getting the Elna estimate. They are stupid reasons, every single one of them, believe me. Again, this is not an endorsement of the Elna proposal. This is a plea for information.

Just get it. It wouldn’t necessarily lead us to purchasing and renovating Elna. It wouldn’t necessarily lead us to renovating the Town Hall. The community, once it has the facts can and will decide which building it wants for a Town Hall.

Woodstock belongs in the 21^st Century. We really can be a part of the Age of Woodstock. Act. Lead. Please.

Here, kitty kitty kitty…

Woodstock Democratic Committee Interviews

2009-04-16T06:03:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, April 2 edition

Woodstock, March 30

The Woodstock Democratic Committee (WDC) held a meeting the evening of March 30 at the Catskill Center For Photography for the purpose of interviewing announced candidates seeking the Democratic Party line in this year’s November election.

The WDC may or may not endorse candidates for this coming September’s Democratic primary, the first for Woodstock local elections, which replaces the traditional caucus system for selecting candidates. The Committee earlier this year decided that with the growing number of Democrats participating in caucuses the primary system would offer more opportunity for Democrats to engage in the political process.

Whether the WDC endorses or not, candidates who want to be on the September primary ballot first will have to secure at least the required minimum number of signatures of registered Democrats, approximately 150, during a petition period of several weeks that will begin in about three months.

Jackie Earley and Michael Reynolds, since neither is a registered Democrat first will have to obtain from the WDC a “Wilson Pakula,” which would allow them to compete in the Democratic primary. Earley, first elected Town Clerk in 2003 and Reynolds, first elected Highway Superintendent in 2005, are each seeking reelection, and were interviewed by the Committee. “Wilson Pakula” refers to election law legislation adopted in New York State in 1947, which allows political parties to admit or deny candidates not registered to their party access to their ballot line in primaries and general elections. The WDC has not formally announced whether it will grant the waiver, but inside sources indicate it most likely will, citing a long history of endorsements of non- enrolled Democrats in political caucuses.

Earley is being challenged by Democrat Jane Valand, a political newcomer, who won a seat on the WDC in 2008. Reynolds has no announced opposition.

Town Supervisor Jeff Moran, who was called away by a death in his family and could not be interviewed, has no announced Democratic opponent, and neither does Town Justice Richard Husted, who was interviewed.

With the exception of incumbent Councilman Chris Collins, the several announced candidates for Town Councilman were on hand. Included were former Councilman Bill McKenna, incumbent Councilwoman Liz Simonson, WDC member Cathy Magarelli. Planning Board member Laurie Ylvisacker, and Ken Panza. WDC Chairman Sam Magarelli was interviewed, but concluded his interview with the announcement he would not run for the position.

Magarelli, former Ulster County Legislator and more recently the coordinator of the extremely well received Annual Volunteers Day celebrations, was seen as a formidable candidate, and there were expressions of regret from some that he had decided not to compete. He strongly endorsed his wife, Cathy for the town board seat, saying, “Cathy will provide fresh energy, new approaches and a respectful attitude. She can help to bring about long awaited change.”

Cathy Magarelli issued a statement saying, “My goal is to work with the people of Woodstock in a way that unifies us. While it is important to take the appropriate amount of time to study the issues, it is important for the town board to act in a timely manner. Woodstock has significant problems with its facilities.”

Bill McKenna, who had served on the Town Board 2004-2007, issued a statement saying, “I first of all want to make sure the Town is addressing the new financial climate by implementing the most prudent budgeting, and also I want to end the gridlock that has gripped the board these last couple of years.”

Other candidates were given opportunity to make statements, but have not. There was no explanation for why Collins did not attend the meeting, despite having announced his intention to seek a second term.

Three Superiors

2009-04-02T08:02:00.000-07:00

The following opinion piece appeared in the March 26 edition of the Townsman.

It is said that a sign of superior intelligence is the ability to entertain two opposing thoughts or ideas at the same time. We recently saw a demonstration of this by three members of the Woodstock Town Board, who with one hand held as sacred the right of free speech, and with the other tore down signs calling for their impeachment.

It is nowhere said that possession of superior intelligence implies modesty – one might think it should, but it doesn’t – so it can be expected when those so gifted insist on press conferences for demonstration of their wit that we respond with some sense of awe. The subtlety of three elected officials together engaged in an act of petty vandalism will never be compassed by the inferior mind, certainly not this one, so awe, although I agree perhaps vaguely inappropriate, is the only word to describe the residue of my impressions of such display and – more to the point – ostentation.

The inferior mind, however, does not imply a lack of curiosity – one might think it should, but it doesn’t – and after councilman Jay Wenk removed twice the sign calling for his impeachment (he had to do it again for the tardy camera), with councilman Chris Collins steadying the ladder, and councilwoman Liz Simonson carrying to the scene additional tatters of the First Amendment, my extremely stunted mental capacity began to wonder about a matter that has the true interest of our community, namely, RUPCO.

It is generally known that the three Superiors are less than enthusiastic about the RUPCO application to build 53 units of affordable housing. Unfortunately for them, their hands are tied by that controlled and ordered force we call ‘Law,’ in this case the zoning law, in this case the zoning law that was written by His Worship in 1989 and which specifically allows for such development in the proposed location.

Recent extensive reporting has clarified the following:

1) Last year the Ethics Board received a complaint from someone alleging a conflict of interest on the part of two Planning Board members, a conflict the complainant felt egregious enough to force the two members to recuse from RUPCO discussions and determinations. With one member already recused, this would have left the RUPCO application to be determined by the remaining four members of the PB, including one that had made public statements against the project and who was nevertheless appointed PB chairman by the three Superiors of the Town Board. It would require four votes to approve the RUPCO application. Do the math.

2) The Ethics Board in late 2008 returned a decision that the two members did not have a conflict, and so they have remained in the mix.

3) In December of last year the three Superiors suddenly yanked two members off the Ethics Board, and declined to re-appoint a third.

4) In February recent, the Ethics Board, its five members stocked with three new faces selected by the Superiors, in an action comparable to the sudden and arbitrary protuberance of a plumbing mishap, issued a determination that the two PB members in question should recuse.

[UPDATE: After a discussion with the attorney for the Town the Ethics Board declared the new determination to be a mistake.]

Here’s the quiz: Is there a connection from all this to the three Superiors?

There is no definite answer. We can rely only on past practice, and the example of the three Superiors saying one thing and doing another.

In this instance they have spoken against, but have practically guaranteed the approval of the RUPCO application.

How?

The most casual observer knows the RUPCO case will end up in court. If RUPCO is approved, then it will be up to SAGE (the society opposing the RUPCO application) to prove to a judge that the PB failed either to consider the environmental impacts, or failed to properly apply the law, or both. I will not guess this outcome, but I will recall for you that the Woodstock Planning Board has been upheld in all its past controversial decisions (KTD, Highway Garage, Cell Tower).

If RUPCO is denied, then it will be up to RUPCO to prove to a judge that the PB did not base its determination on facts or the law but rather on arbitrary and capricious motives.

So the judge will look for facts. The judge will need a forensic linguist to sort through it, but eventually will decipher Councilman Chris Collins’ February 12 written statement to the PB as derogatory to the RUPCO application. The judge will wonder over the three-vote appointment to the PB chairmanship one who had spoken against the project. The judge will ponder the strange circumstances of the unceremonious dumping of two members of the Ethics Board. The judge will ring up the courthouse maintenance man for a plunger when he/she stumbles upon the odd, sudden eruption of last February’s decision of the new Ethics Board. The judge will think about the backlog of cases piled up on the desk…

This RUPCO is so done.

Those who have hoped for more from the three Superiors will be left with the full implication of electing superior minds.

* * *

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT! The New York chapter of the ANTI - ANGST LEAGUE is proud to announce the opening of its new Sign Therapy service in Woodstock. Sign Therapy addresses the needs of those who have been victimized by signage intended to hurt their feelings. As a community promotion, Sign Therapy will be offered free to Liz, Jay and Chris, to Bush, to Israel, to KTD and to the Company 1 Firehouse. Contact the Committee For Woodstock’s Future for more info.

$10,000 Legal Opinion!

2009-04-02T08:01:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, March 26 edition

The recent discovery that the Town of Woodstock paid approximately $10,000 in 2008 for a legal opinion concerning its right to improve the upper Comeau parking lot without violating the provisions of the thus far unexecuted Comeau Easement has directed more focus to the document, which legality had been upheld by a decision rendered last November by the New York State Appellate Court.

The Easement was developed from response to the unpopular proposal in 2002 to locate the Town’s highway facility on a portion of the Comeau property, a proposal soundly rejected by a referendum in March of that year. Subsequently, a committee was appointed by the Town Board which purpose was to propose a means of “best protecting” the property.

After a lengthy deliberation the committee proposed putting a conservation easement on the property. The document delineated “open areas,” “forested areas” and “governmental areas” and placed unique restrictions and/or conditions on each one. For instance, forested areas were to remain such, with pruning and cutting permitted only for the purpose of enhancing the forest’s health or protecting the public’s safety. Governmental areas, which include the existing town offices plus an additional one-acre envelope, the parking lots, the Historical Society building and a two-acre area at the bottom of the property set aside for future needs, are permitted to expand their uses up to a certain, defined point. Lands already cleared would be maintained as meadows. The Woodstock Land Conservancy (WLC), the proposed co-signer of the document, would be the agency that would enforce the Easement provisions.

The Easement was overwhelmingly approved in a 2003 referendum. It was not until late last year that its long journey through the courts was finally brought to an end by the Appellate Court decision. Since that time the Town and the Conservancy have yet to execute the document.

On May 20, 2008 the Town Supervisor, Jeff Moran, in response to a number of soccer parents concerned with unsafe conditions, asked for a resolution from the Town Board to permit expansion and improvement to the upper Comeau parking lot and Comeau Road in order to accommodate the large numbers of vehicles chaotically thrown together during soccer meets. After a meeting that continued until almost 1:00 AM the resolutions to protect the public’s safety were tabled in deference to Councilman Chris Collins’ concern, echoed by Councilpersons Jay Wenk and Liz Simonson, that the improvements might jeopardize the then still pending litigation over the Easement. According to minutes of the meetings, “Collins stated he is willing to take action only with written permission from Steve Barshov.” Barshov, of Sive, Paget & Riesel, is the New York City attorney representing the Town in the Easement litigation.

The $10,000 six-page Barshov opinion, dated July 14, 2008, gave a clear go-ahead for the parking lot improvement, but equivocated on the question, “Could improvements or alterations to the Comeau property undertaken now create complications for the Town in the future when implementing the Easement after the current litigation is ended?”

One of Barshov’s suggestions was for the Town Board to discuss the proposed improvements with the WLC. The WLC, however, in response to a similar overture in 2007 when the Town wanted to install a structure for the soccer league that is larger than what would be allowed by the Easement, took the position that it would not involve itself in these kinds of discussions until the easement was properly signed and executed. In that instance the Town went ahead and installed the structure without seeking permission or legal opinion.

(The Town is currently in the process of seeking a variance from the zoning law that would permit expansion of the upper Comeau parking lot. A Zoning Board of Appeals decision is expected later this month. A recent determination of the Ulster County Planning Board has thrown a cloud over the issue, and the variance is by no means a done deal. Meanwhile, the WLC in a communication last year addressed to the Town before receipt of the Barshov opinion, reaffirmed its position not to intrude on matters involving proposed Comeau improvements until the Easement is signed.)

The $10,000 legal opinion is a pittance compared to the amount, some estimate to approach $175,000, spent defending the Easement against the lawsuit brought against the Town by Vincent LaBabera. Now that the lawsuit is dismissed, and attention focused on actually executing the document, attention has been drawn to the language of Section 7.02 of the Easement, which reads:

“This Easement can be terminated or modified in accordance with the common and statutory law of the State of New York applicable to the termination and modification of easements and covenants running with the land.”

This language is of interest because legislative bodies, which includes town boards, have the power to condemn conservation easements, as much as they have the power to condemn property when such condemnation is necessary to effect a public improvement or provide for the public’s health, safety and welfare. For instance, if a future town board wanted to permit a highway facility on the Comeau property it could do so after a minimum of three members of the board voted to initiate a condemnation proceeding against the Easement.

When asked for comment on the $10,000 legal charge, Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum responded, “…We [do not] get any additional benefit by using a Park Avenue lawyer whose practice is based in NYC. “ Rosenblum further stated she felt the Town’s land use attorney, Drayton Grant, would be capable to answer such questions as had been addressed to Barshov.

Supervisor Moran responded, “I would characterize the work performed by Mr. Barshov in this instance as approaching the very high end of expensive, given what the Town is accustomed to paying Town Attorney Futerfas and Town Land Use Attorney Grant. While I did not agree that such a communication was necessary in the first place, I respect Councilman Collins’ wish to operate within both the letter and spirit of the draft agreement. I was, however, greatly surprised at the length of the response and the concomitant cost of same to the Town, and would urge the Board to deliberate very carefully before again engaging a Park Avenue law firm, and incurring the high overhead costs that necessarily entails, for legal work within the Town of Woodstock.”

Councilpersons Jay Wenk, Chris Collins and Liz Simonson offered no response.

Spring Montage

2009-03-26T05:44:00.000-07:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, March 26 edition

Anyone who looks out the window will be reminded of that old, Catskill region bit of wisdom, “There are two kinds of people in the world, those who rake the leaves in the autumn, and those who let the disgusting mess sit around until spring.”

There is no excuse for my being the latter of these, except for the fantastic belief that the winter snow will somehow dissolve last year’s discarded vegetation and leave the yard clean as a pool table. I have maintained such belief through years of criticism, from the harrowing glares of my neighbors to the gentle stare from my missus, ever more gentle, I assure you, when I drag another leaf under my boot into the house. We should maintain solitary courage of our beliefs, but I will admit I am helped by the observation I am not alone, that there are two or three other yards in Ulster County that ring, like mine, the distant and not particularly encouraging echo of The Forest Primeval.

As do people with questionable beliefs, I look to science to bolster mine and rationally support the very brown yard that persists in front of my house. Some claim my sudden interest in science is to avoid for at least one more morning the idea of a rake in my hands and the calluses it implies. Please don’t suspect because I am married to one of these claimants that it adds urgency to my research.

Lo! Science upholds me! Yes, those millions of crepitating leaves that now strangle the crocuses are restoring nutrients to the earth, hatching beneficial microbes, making safe habitat for tiny amphibians and bugs and critters, and indeed, if there is justice in the world, I should get a special citation from the Sierra Club in recognition of my forbearance. This will be followed by my documentary, An Inconvenient Rake, then an Oscar, maybe a Nobel Prize. I will be the most celebrated indolent since Rip Van Winkle!

Yeah, right. Where’s the darn rake?

* * *

There are many one-way streets in life, and one of the strictest says that if you are raised in the country and move to a city you are still forever a hick. You can die, say for instance, after editing the New York Times for decades, and still your obit will sure include words like “His/Her small town roots were evidenced by the simple, direct approach taken to such complex issues like the micro-economics of the rake manufacturing industry.”

Well, on this same one-way street you can move to the country straight from your old job at Bear-Sterns, and presto, you are a bona fide hick even before the Rolex and Armani suit hit the pine floor. Add the slouch hat and a pair of rubber knee-muckers, and nobody will know you from ol’ Zeke or any of the rest of us still eating out of wooden bowls. How do I know this? Because I went to the pancake breakfast at the Lake Hill Company 3 firehouse last Sunday morning. There are, of course, only four people left that were actually born in Lake Hill, but you’d never know it from all the hayseed flying around the place.

Eggs, sausage, pancakes, coffee and juice, hey, it’s a good life, but it’s just sad to see how only few of us still eat with our fingers. Now what about that rumor that Bill and Hillary Clinton were going to buy a house here? Yeah, people say it’s only a rumor, but any good local knows that ‘rumor’ and ‘truth’ both have five letters, so I’m buying it. So when they do move here I expect to see them at the pancake breakfast, and just to clinch the deal I’ll mention right here those two magic words we so often marvel over at the firehouse, Indoor Plumbing! See you there, Mr. President and Madame Secretary.

* * *

By the way, I found this piece of paper in the parking lot outside the firehouse.

MEMO
TO: C.E.O.
FROM: Legal Department
RE: New World Order

Sir,

Not precisely the words we would use, but yes, there are steps the Bank can take during this “communist takeover.” Here is the legal department’s opinion on your recent proposals, and answers to some of your questions.

“Health Care Seminar” will probably throw auditors off the scent, but you might schedule it in Bangor, Maine or Cedar Rapids, Iowa and avoid venues like Monte Carlo. See if you can get some wage slaves to tag along; put them up in a Days Inn. (As an aside, some of us ‘eagles’ might attend the “seminar?”)

“Higher Tax Bracket Qualifiers” will fool no one. Keep in mind bonuses are a political problem, not a legal one. Not our bailiwick, but can’t some of boys on the top floor plead poverty when the “politboro” (again, to use your word, sir) in Washington come sidling around for contributions for their re-election? Could be a game-changer.

S.E.C. stands for “Securities Exchange Commission,” and no, Obama didn’t create it, it’s been around for some time, at least since Bush the Elder. Yes, it’s a pity the shredder had to fritz when it did; fortunately the real interesting stuff is now “recycled,” and we can probably fit the remaining jig saw pieces into the picture “we like.” Jim, you might be pleased to know, supported himself as an origamist through law school.

“CASH” is not an acronym. Think of that stuff you saw your personal assistant hand to the cab driver when the limo was in the shop.

We understand the frustration, but advise against imprinting “Trostsky” goatees on the President’s portraits. Ditto Geithner. Still checking Pelosi.

A “Red Star” on the company jet will definitely increase the insurance premium. Yes, the times call for a little irony, why not no logo? Jim thinks better yet, swap it for a crop duster.

Offering “interest bearing accounts”? What a curious innovation; are you sure it would be profitable? This is whole new territory, and we will need a little time before getting back to you.

Along a similar vein, the “lollipops for kids” idea is perfectly legal, but “free?” Have the lads in Operations seen this?

The recent Madoff plea should help you put the brakes on the board’s proposed, “Just Screw ‘Em” strategy. Look, derivatives will be back; tell the members to just hang on.

Yes, this whole “disclosure” madness affecting the Swiss is wretched. Even so, DO NOT accept the Mugabe proposal.

Do you really think the sum you mention is enough to buy Jon Stewart? And yes, there would be a Thirteenth Amendment issue. Forget “enemy combatant.” Why not try “old think” and buy the network?

Your reference to the possibility of “the White Army riding in to save us” went completely over our heads. Perhaps you meant “white knight?” But we thought the government was the white knight.

Contrary to anything you may have heard, Jim and I think the new “digs” are fine, and we may be near the end of that “little cough” nagging him, so delaying the maintenance on the ventilation was another of your good ideas. Contact me if you have any questions, or if I can be of more assistance (e-mail’s down, call Jim’s desk directly). If you’re ever out “inspecting the troops” we are one level below the basement (service elevator only) right next to where Risk Management used to be (our best to old ‘Buckshot” by the way).

Woodstock Town Board Meeting, March 17

2009-03-26T05:41:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, March 19 edition

The monthly meeting of the Woodstock Town Board executed the monthly business by unanimous votes on paying the bills in the amount of $112,000, accepting the Town Clerk’s report, the monthly budget transfers and minutes for previous meetings. There was also unanimity in authorizing expenditure of up to $147,000 for the purchase of new highway equipment, and in granting waivers of rental fees for use of the Community Center by two not-for-profit groups.

Paul Shultis Jr, representing the Skate Park Task Force, reported that an application for a variance that would permit construction of a ten foot high fence around the existing skate park was heard by the Woodstock Zoning Board of Appeals (ZBA) at its March 12 meeting, and that a decision will be made at the ZBA’s March 26 meeting. A denial is not expected. The Woodstock Planning Board at its April 2 meeting will deliberate on the new fence plus the addition of a specially manufactured material to deaden sound. Shultis asked that it be stressed the cost of the improvement, estimated at approximately $45,000, will be covered by the moneys received as a member item from Senator Bonacic, and will not be borne by local tax payers. He credited the previous Supervisor for securing such funding.

The board wrestled with its desire to financially aid the Food Pantry to the tune of $500.00, and not conflict with law that prohibits allocations to religious institutions that host the pantry. It was decided to allocate the funds contingent on receiving guidance from the attorney for the Town, Rod Futerfas.

During committee reports Councilwoman Liz Simonson again said that she was continuing to add data to software purchase last year to help the Town address its energy costs.

More interesting was her report on the RNN tower, the privately owned 300 foot tower on the top of Overlook Mountain, which she feels would be a good asset for providing cell phone service to areas of the town not currently served. “The tower is staying there,” she stated, even though it had lost its non-conforming use status when it ceased broadcasting television signals several years ago. She reported the tower’s owner, Powers Taylor, had contracted with Qualcom, a technology company, to install some type of communications device not having to do with cell service. Verizon Wireless is apparently not interested in the site, and Nextel withdrew an application a while ago. In the past several carriers had reported that the RNN site is not suitable for providing cell phone service. She also spoke with a representative of Pyramid Developers, the company more noted for development of shopping malls, but which apparently has a division dealing with communications. She was informed that since the Town had “given away the diamond in the crown” by permitting the cell tower in California Quarry, which serves almost 75% of the town’s population, it would be “a complicated thing to get service to the less dense areas of the town.” It was suggested to her that the Town Board creating a “easy approval method” might facilitate matters. She did not go into details. Simonson did not report on her meeting with the Fire Commissioners, where it was reported she and George (“Jerry”) Washington were met with less than enthusiasm in their effort to garner support for the RNN tower.

Supervisor Jeff Moran gave a more upbeat report, saying he had spoken with Ulster County officials who are eager to expand broadband service, including wireless telecommunications, to rural areas not currently served. There are moneys in the recently passed federal Stimulus Package that may assist the effort. Moran is currently constructing a map of un-served areas in Woodstock, saying he is “keenly interested in getting service to the west.”

Councilman Jay Wenk had little to report on his effort to remove buried fuel storage tanks near the aquifer that feeds the municipal wells, except to say that a company he had contacted, VASCO, which specializes in fuel tank removal, had stopped retuning his calls, and that he and George (“Jerry”) Washington each had scheduling conflicts that prevented them from meeting on the subject. A VASCO representative made a presentation to the Town Board last January, but nothing has been heard since.

There was another long, desultory conversation on the Supervisor’s attempt to get a legitimate estimate for the cost of purchase and renovation of the Elna Ferrite building on the Bearsville Flats so that such cost could be compared to the known cost, almost $2 million, to renovate the Town Hall for court, dispatch and police services. Elna Ferrite would house almost all of the Town departments (Not highway or water/sewer), in addition to those named. It was finally decided to meet at 3:00 PM on March 30 at the Town Offices to construct a request for proposals from experts to help estimate the Elna renovation.

The meeting had begun at 6:30 with an executive session to discuss with attorney for the Town, Rod Futerfas the issue of ethics and the Ethics Board, which recently have caused hot discussions over controversial decisions [see article on this subject elsewhere in this edition]. The public portion of the meeting adjourned at around 10:00 PM.

Ethics Issue Rages

2009-03-26T05:39:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, March 19 edition

The controversy surrounding ethics continued to swirl in Woodstock with the attorney for the Town, Rod Futerfas, rebutting the contention in a letter dated March 5 from Michael Moriello, attorney for RUPCO, that Councilman Chris Collins should recuse himself from any discussion at the Town Board concerning RUPCO’s application to construct 53 units of affordable housing in Woodstock. Moriello had claimed that Collins’ prejudicial statements had disqualified him from such talks at the Town Board level.

But a statement from the Supervisor issued several days ago said; “It is the opinion of our Town Attorney that the views or philosophies expressed by a member of a Board, Commission, or Committee do not constitute a basis for a recusal. The reason for a recusal would be the fact, or appearance of, possible financial impact (loss or gain) from a decision in which said member would be involved in voting. As Councilman Collins has no financial interest in the proposed Woodstock Commons development, nor is a contiguous property owner, nor has any other fiduciary dealings with the property owner or the applicant, there is no basis for recusal. This, of course, would apply to any member of a town board, committee, or commission.”

The interpretation would seem to rebut an opinion of the Ethics Board, which in a letter earlier this month to Planning Board members Paul Shultis Jr. and David Corbett advised they should recuse themselves from Planning Board deliberations concerning the same RUPCO application. Although the Ethics Board did not explain their reasons, there has been no one who has publicly claimed Shultis or Corbett has a financial interest in the proposed RUPCO project.

More recently, Moriello, in a March 10 letter to Futerfas, offered a scathing review of the Ethics Board’s action with regard to Shultis and Corbett, accusing it of “operating in a clandestine and star chamber like proceeding.”

Earlier this year the Town Board appointed three new members to the Ethics Board, after unceremoniously dumping Alison West, Terri Reynolds and Fran Breitkoph last December with three votes provided by Councilpersons Liz Simonson, Jay Wenk and Chis Collins. That earlier Ethics Board had determined last fall that Shultis and Corbett had no need to recuse themselves. There is no available record of who brought the fresh complaint to the newly constituted Ethics Board. Neither Shultis nor Corbett was asked to testify, as they had before the previous board.

“It is my suspicion,” writes Moriello, “that certain members of the Ethics Board, the Planning Board Chairman [Mark Peritz] and at least one member of SAGE [the group opposing RUPCO] have been complicit in conspiring to eliminate Planning Board members from continuing the Woodstock Commons [RUPCO project] review in an attempt to occasion delay, substitute new members and cripple the project.” Moriello is using Freedom of Information Law to pursue his investigation into the matter. He concludes his letter by saying, “It is clear to me that the Town of Woodstock Ethics Board has operated heretofore without your [Futerfas’] good counsel. Please impress upon them their responsibility to protect an impartial ethics review process, as well as the importance of observing all procedural and substantive safeguards which protect all Planning Board members going forward.”

The Town Board began its March 17 meeting with an executive session, including Futerfas, to discuss ethics issues. There was no comment made to the public concerning the meeting. Town Board members Jay Wenk and Liz Simonson sent e-mails to this reporter denying his request to interview Futerfas on the matter.

Lordy Lord

2009-03-19T18:17:00.000-07:00

The following opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, March 12 edition.

Dear Townsman reader, I have let you down, I have caused you a disappointment for which forgiveness can not be expected, I have ruined my chances for a Pulitzer Prize, I have, indeed, brought shame on this whole enterprise we call ‘journalism.’

I missed a press conference scheduled by three members of the Woodstock Town Board. Or at least I think I did.

The background to this sorry malpractice:

Since you are not a member of the Political Class, in fact you are just a humble taxpayer paying for salaries and health benefits for those who are, you probably were never even aware of the signs that had sprouted in areas of the Township reading; ‘IMPEACH LIZ, JAY AND CHRIS.’

You were probably never aware of them because the landscape has become so infested with ‘IMPEACH BUSH,’ ‘KTD IS NOT A GOOD NEIGHBOR’ and ‘SAVE THE BOG TURTLE’ signs, that as bracing as our right to free speech is, its practice can be a bore, especially when executed in nothing but the same BLOCK LETTERS or sententious letters to the editor denouncing Israel.

It’s sort of like when your spouse says for the millionth time, “I wish somebody would start wiping their feet around here”; you hear it but you don’t.

But apparently somebody has noticed the IMPEACH LIZ, JAY AND CHRIS signs, namely Liz, Jay and Chris. And they scheduled a press conference about it. Or at least I think they did.

With cabin fever on the verge of killing us all, I got a call from a fellow patient informing me that Liz, Jay and Chris had scheduled a press conference to be held at the foot of Comeau Drive, with an attendant ceremony to remove an IMPEACH LIZ, JAY AND CHRIS sign from a public utility pole.

Unfortunately, The Townsman was not alerted, and so the ceremony to desecrate free speech conducted by those who abide free speech when it proclaims ‘IMPEACH BUSH,’ ‘KTD IS NOT A GOOD NEIGHBOR’ and ‘SAVE THE BOG TURTLE,’ or sententious letters to the editor denouncing Israel, commenced only in the presence of a reporter from another newspaper.

Sadly, I can only give a second hand report: Jay Wenk, who cannot rise to his feet to respect the American flag, ascended high on his ladder to scorn the First Amendment by removing the IMPEACH LIZ, JAY AND CHRIS sign from the public utility pole. Chris Collins steadied the ladder. The deed was duly video taped by Cambiz Khosravi and Jay Cohen. Ed Sanders, rising from his swirly duties, noted the historic moment. Liz Simonson, Khosravi’s wife, arrived carrying a sign, which called for her exclusive impeachment, and which had been removed “by a friend” from the sledding hill at the Comeau. She reported that another, similarly exclusive sign had been removed from the 212 roadside in Shady. All this, by the way, in the pouring rain.

Sadly, I cannot attest to this amazing spectacle of members of the Woodstock Town Board taking the time to remove the IMPEACH LIZ, JAY AND CHRIS sign, because I wasn’t there; again, The Townsman was not alerted, not even the theater reviewer.

English, which readers of this column know to be the most confusing language in the world, is not satisfied with one definition of “conference.” There is:

1) “A meeting to discuss serious matters, for example policy or business.”
There is also;
2) “The conferring of something such as a degree or honor.

Normally I would leave it to the intelligence of the reader to decide which should apply, but here I presume upon you as I baldly aver that the ceremony — if indeed it is not a cruel hoax pretending three members of the Woodstock Town Board really had the time for sign removals during this era of a collapsed economy, gaping municipal deficits, and a poor old Woodstock college professor complaining that Bard College kicked him out for his anti-Zionism — followed definition (2), because if it was (1) “a meeting to discuss serious matters, for example policy or business” then we are in for a lot of trouble.

If you accept definition (2), it begs the question; What were they conferring? Sure as heck it wasn’t “a degree or honor.”

So I e-mailed the Town Board:
“Was there a press conference concerning removing a sign calling for the impeachment of Liz, Chris and Jay? Why didn't the Townsman get a notice if so?”

From Liz:
“I did not arrange the conference and got there a bit late.”

From Jay:
“There was no press conference and it was an oversight that the Townsman was not contacted.”

Confused? Liz says she arrived late to a press conference she did not arrange, and Jay says a press conference never happened, but still acknowledges the “oversight” of not contacting the Townsman.

Hmmm.

Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum and Supervisor Jeff Moran wrote back saying they had no knowledge of a press conference, or the signs for that matter; in my opinion a refreshing disinterest.

Councilman Chris Collins didn’t respond, and how can you blame him when he knows I’d print his statement unedited?

In an attempt to atone for my journalistic lapse I e-mailed Jay a follow up:

“Thank you for your response which indicates there was no press conference, and explaining it as an oversight that the Townsman was not contacted. Can you tell me what threat to the health, safety and welfare of the Town was posed by the signs removed by members of the town board? It is my understanding that the building inspector has been instructed to henceforth strictly enforce the signage laws; will this enforcement apply to sandwich boards?”

And Jay wrote back:

“The removal was not done ‘by members of the TB’; it was done by me, with my ladder and my tools and myself up on the ladder. Before going up, I estimated the height of the sign and which of my ladders would be the appropriate one to bring down in my van. I imagine a case could be made re: welfare, since the sign was not signed, and the Town and the individual were protected from false accusations and the possible lawsuit to the individual from the utility company. I understand it is not legal to fasten stuff to utility poles. I always believed the Building Department had that ongoing task about enforcement and I imagine it would only apply to sandwich boards if you were hungry.”

Yes, Jay’s passage is a little difficult (and greatly imaginative), but interesting among his infelicitous clauses is, “I understand it is not legal to fasten stuff to utility poles,” and I say this is interesting because on the same utility pole was a sign, requiring no ladder for its extraction, advertising a used Subaru and, which as I write, continues to molest the law.

Make of this what you will.

March 10 Town Board Meeting

2009-03-19T18:16:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, March 12 edition

Councilman Chris Collins, quoting Joe Liune as saying, “I am pretty well satisfied,” strongly urged the Town Board the adopt a declaration of negative environmental significance (“neg-dec”) regarding a proposed amendment to the Woodstock zoning law regulating development near surface water bodies, including wetlands, by creating a permitting process that involves making application to the Planning Board for most types of construction. His resolution was tabled after approximately a half hour of discussion when concerns were raised that the public had seen neither the latest update to the 26-page amendment, nor the ten-page neg dec.

Liune and members of the Wittenberg Sportsman’s Club several years ago had a regulation with a similar goal thrown out of state supreme court. Since then he has constructively participated with Town officials in an attempt to craft a better document. Liune was unable to attend tonight’s meeting where the neg dec was discussed.

The neg dec was prepared by Planning Board Technician Dara Trahan, and was described by the Town’s land-use attorney, Drayton Grant, in a letter as “pure poetry.”

A public hearing on the amendment was held last October, and recessed. There have been no further public discussions since. As reported exclusively in this paper several weeks ago, a revised document prepared by Trahan was circulated, but its status is unclear; Jackie Earley, the Town Clerk said the only document she has filed in her office was the one considered last October.

A document that until tonight’s meeting has not had the imprimatur of the Town Board would be filed, it was promised, tomorrow (March 11), and the text of the neg dec will appear on the Town’s web site as well.

A neg dec, a declaration legally required before commencement of any proposed action that may have an environmental impact, good or bad, will need be adopted prior to adoption of the zoning amendment. Supervisor Jeff Moran, stating his opinion the amendment still needed “a serious look,” gently led the board through a discussion judging the merits of rushing the process involving an extremely complex law added to the books, or allowing the public more scrutiny and time to digest it. His approach appeared to pay off when Councilwoman Liz Simonson announced, “I want to follow the process and make this as open as possible,” and joined the Supervisor and Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum in their opinion that waiting one more week was acceptable.

Collins took the Supervisor to task for not putting the amended law on the Town web site six weeks ago, apparently failing to recognize the Town Board had never authorized such posting. “I see this as an interruption of a break down of the process,” complained Collins. With “resistance and discomfort” Collins agreed to wait a week.

Planning Board Recusals

2009-03-19T18:14:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, March 12 edition

As was reported first in this newspaper, there is a movement afoot to have Woodstock Planning Board members Paul Shultis Jr. and David Corbett recuse themselves from deliberations and decisions regarding the RUPCO application for building 53 units of affordable housing behind Bradley Meadows shopping center.

A letter dated February 27 addressed to Shultis and Corbett from Ethics Board acting chairwoman Rosanna Haggerty said that based on “an inquiry” the board had determined that two should recuse themselves. It gave no reason or basis for the determination, nor did the letter say who had made such “inquiry.”

Neither Shultis nor Corbett was invited to the Ethics Board to discuss the matter prior to the decision.

The matter was discussed publicly at the Woodstock Planning Board’s March 5 meeting after the letter was read aloud by the chairman, Mark Peretz.

Corbett and Shultis were curious to know how a letter that had been addressed to them individually, and which indicated that no other person or entity had been copied, should have ended up in Peretz’s possession. Peretz explained that he was “copied” on all letters from the Ethics Board addressed to planning board member irrespective of its privacy.

Both Corbett and Shultis rejected the Ethics Board determination, which incidentally contradicted a determination made by the Ethics Board last autumn, which had then included three members who were unceremoniously sacked last December and replaced with new members.

“I am not persuaded,” said Corbett, who unlike the chairman and a Planning Board member, Laurie Ylvisaker, has made no public comments for or against the RUPCO application (Peretz and Ylvisaker have both spoken publicly against the application, Ylvisaker before she had been appointed).

The Planning Board as a body appeared non-plussed by the Ethics Board letter. Allen Duane made a motion to reject the determination, which carried by five votes, Peretz and Shultis abstaining. Another motion directing that correspondence from the Ethics Board addressed to the chairman should be addressed also to the whole board also carried.

The Ethics Board is now comprised of Haggerty, Lori Rosenberg, Toby Heilbruhn, Jim Dougherty Joan Krotenberg.

Collins Recusal

2009-03-19T18:12:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, March 12 edition

A letter to the Town dated March 5 from Riseley & Moriello, the law firm representing RUPCO in its application for construction of 53 units of affordable housing behind the Bradley Meadows shopping center in Woodstock, takes issue with Councilman Chris Collin’s contention that the Woodstock Town Board has the power to deny municipal water and sewer service to the project if it gets through the Planning Board process.

Citing numerous legal decisions and sections of Woodstock local laws, the letter states that, “RUPCO possesses the statutorily granted right to connect to the existing Town of Woodstock Municipal Sewer System without the necessity of discretionary review by the Town Board…”

Section 243-33 in the codified laws of the Town of Woodstock reads, “Those properties which are now divided by [Hamlet Sewer] District boundaries shall be considered to be wholly serviced by the District.” The Town Board in 2008 unanimously approved this language, which had been originally constructed in 1985, when local laws were codified. A small portion of the 28 acre parcel where the proposed project is to be situated is in the Hamlet Sewer District. The same is true of the Water District.

“Based upon all of the foregoing,” the letter concludes, “individual Town Board Members do not possess the authority to exercise discretion to ‘scuttle the project since it would be they who have to approve any hook-ups to town water and sewer systems’, as purportedly attributed to Town Board Member [Chris] Collins…”

The Collins quote was taken from a news article printed last February 19.

The letter, copied to the Woodstock Ethics Board, also recommends that Collins recuse himself from any discussions at the Town Board regarding the RUPCO application. “Mr. Collins’ allusions to scuttling the project… while coupled with his written opposition to this particular affordable housing proposal, may be construed… as violative of the Fair Housing Act. At minimum, his positions present a clear conflict with his ability to perform impartial participation in consideration of the project.”

Collin’s letter to the Planning Board opposing the project was reported exclusively in an earlier edition of this newspaper.

Under the title of ‘Political Influence’, the letter states, “…such pandering [by Collins] to project opponents is wholly inappropriate and could expose the Town of Woodstock to substantial monetary liability,” following up this assertion with numerous citations from case law.

Additionally the letter advises, “…biased positions of Town Officials have no place in the process and I [attorney Michael Moriello] urge the Town Board to confer with the very capable Rod Futerfas, Esq. in this regard.”

Futerfas is the appointed attorney for the Town.

In conclusion the letter asks, “…that this matter be referred to the Town of Woodstock Ethics Board for official consideration in order to effect a recusal of Town Board Member Collins from any further consideration of the [RUPCO] project.”

Collins has not responded to a request for comment.

Our Savior!

2009-03-12T11:34:00.000-07:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, March 12 edition

It should go without saying – and indeed outside the confines of Woodstock it is – that Woodstock probably would have died in 1989 had Ed Sanders not been our town supervisor. How easy it must be for one to remember the peril that faced our town a mere twenty years ago, since the youngest person in Woodstock is now 59 years old. Well, actually, my brain is somewhat faded and brittle, as we can expect of any antique, and the fact is I don’t remember, but I am often reminded that Ed Sanders saved us from something. I am often reminded of this by him.

His gentle reminders used to come weekly in his self-published Woodstock Journal, that splendid little sprout of verbiage that would shoot up from the manure right around the time of local elections to warn voters off those who would pave over wetlands and install Wal Marts on all our corners, and sprinkled among its civic discourses were the charming figments of Ed Sanders’ latest verse. Who can ever forget his meter on President John F Kennedy, which went:

“He was a man more amorous
than Thomas Jefferson any day
and if you believe the sources in
Seymour Hersh’s book
The Dark Side of Camelot
He liked quick trysts
By the side of the
White House swimming pool
In the midst of swirly duties”

How swirly duties got in the White House swimming pool perhaps is a question for Seymour Hersh, but it is a tribute to Sanders’ intellect that what he appears to resolve actually raises far more interesting, if not lurid questions.

But I’ve digressed. Since the Woodstock Journal has been on its long hiatus the gentle reminders now come on Saturday nights through our local public access channel. It is one of Woodstock’s many blessings that in a world of collapsing economies, compiling gasses and depleting resources we can again be reminded by Ed Sanders that he “wrote the 1989 zoning law” during that golden period he served as the un-elected town supervisor.

In the 1989 zoning law he wrote with respect to the Residential 1.5 District, “Where central water and/or common sewer is provided, an increase in permitted density may occur.”

To make the point even clearer, later in the 1989 zoning law he wrote, “For lots with Town-provided central water and common sewer in the R1-5, HR and HC Districts, four units may be built on a lot meeting the minimum lot area per dwelling unit requirement, provided that all other requirements of this chapter and other applicable laws, rules and regulations are strictly met. For each additional unit after the first four, 25% of the per-dwelling-unit density shall be required.”

It is exactly on these words that the RUPCO application to build 53 units of affordable housing on seven of the twenty-eight acre parcel behind Bradley Meadows shopping center is predicated.

You would think the RUPCO application would thrill Sanders, for he has often risen from his swirly duties to pay great lip service to the need for affordable housing. You would be wrong.

Last Saturday he informed us, darkly, that RUPCO is not on the up-and-up. Results of Sanders’ investigation disclose that RUPCO has not filed the proper forms for its tax-exempt status. Let’s hope that he delivers this information, along with information regarding the Committee For Woodstock’s Future (the shadowy political committee that uses Ed’s post office box) to Congressman Hinchey, who, according to RUPCO papers filed with the Town, will help the RUPCO project with federal funding provided “applicable laws, rules and regulations are strictly met.” Those with great trust and faith in Sanders, no doubt, are eagerly waiting with bated breath for the delivery of his report on the unsavory RUPCO to the congressman.

I have to think it was coincidence that during his Saturday broadcast, Sanders echoed the opinion expressed a week earlier by councilman Chris Collins to the effect that the Woodstock town board could ultimately scuttle the RUPCO project by denying it hook-up to “central water and common sewer.” I have to think this because even the most superficial reader of Sanders’ verse would recognize a mind of such supreme uniqueness and individuality to preclude invasion by a mind generally suspected to be ordinary and mundane. The idea that a town board, which by unanimous consent had given the responsibility of Lead Agency in the environmental review of the RUPCO project to the planning board, should later seize responsibility for its final disposition can only spring from a mind inured to swirling duties. Lest one think by this that I accuse Collins of plagiarizing the idea, you should know how improbable anything so complicated could be attributed to him, and therefore comprehend my conviction that it must have been a coincidence.

* * *

Warning: Pretentious Music Review!
I am generally remiss in taking advantage of the many cultural events common to our town, but this sin was greatly atoned by my audience at the March 1 piano recital at the Kleinert Gallery. The recital, which was a benefit for the Woodstock Byrdcliffe Guild, was introduced by the at-first unsettling announcement that featured pianist, Ilya Yakushev, had been replaced by Asaf Blasberg. I would love to possess the erudition to differentiate a Yakyshev from a Blasberg, but I am too deficient to even try and fake it. I’ll just tell you that Mr, Blasberg may have been a trifle condescending to Mozart’s Sonata in C major, K330, but he executed the Brahms and the Chopin pieces with an adoration and conviction that almost persuaded me to a new religion. BRAVO, Mr. Blasberg, and BRAVO the Guild for such a gift!

CELL TOWER LAW SUIT DISMISSED

2009-03-12T11:31:00.000-07:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, March 5 edition

Perhaps out of boredom with so many frivolous lawsuits concerning the municipal communications tower built in the California Quarry in 2007, it was disclosed now only in passing that the Town had prevailed last October 23 in an Article 78 proceeding initiated by Ken Silver, Jay Cohen and George (“Jerry”) Washington.

Silver, Cohen and Washington had argued that the Town Board had not complied with the competitive bidding provisions of General Municipal Law (GML) in signing, and then amending a master management agreement with JNS Enterprises. Based on such agreement the communications tower was built, all at JNS expense. The amendment to the agreement deferred for five years the Town’s 50% share of revenues from two cell phone providers, in this case ATT and Verizon Wireless, allowing JNS to recoup the additional $150,000 expense of constructing a monopole “tree” tower, instead of the less expensive lattice tower originally agreed to but rejected in a decision of the Woodstock Planning Board.

Several lawsuits against the tower have been dismissed previously, this last one argued before Acting New York Supreme Court Judge Kimberly O’Connor in May of last year. Attorney for the Town, Rod Futerfas, argued on behalf of the Town that the litigants did not have standing, that their Article 78 did not include an involved party — in this case JNS — and that the competitive bidding provision in the GML did not apply since the Town had paid no money toward the tower’s construction.

Judge O’Connor upheld the Town’s opinion with regard to the litigant’s lack of standing, but went further to note that even if the parties had standing that GML still would not apply, since again it was shown the Town has spent none of its own (taxpayers) money on the tower.

E-mails seeking comment from Town Board members were responded to only by Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum and Supervisor Jeff Moran, each acknowledging that the case had indeed been decided in the Town’s favor. Councilpersons Liz Simonson and Chris Collins, who had cooperated with the litigants in an unsuccessful effort to derail the JNS agreement, had no comment. Councilman Jay Wenk also had no comment.

* * *

The on again, off again proposal to study the feasibility of consolidating all the Town offices, including the court, police and dispatch departments in the soon-to-be vacated Elna Ferrite building took a tentative step forward on February 25 after an inspection of the facility by Town officials and advisors that included Supervisor Jeff Moran, Councilwoman Liz Simonson, former Planning Board Chairman Michael Mullally, architect Robert Young and engineer Dennis Larios.

Larios, whose firm engineered the new highway facility, advised the Town to identify possible environmental contamination that may have resulted from the buildings current use as a light industrial facility. Such a study may have already been performed when the business expanded back in the 1990s.

Mullally, who has had experience in large renovations, guestimated that the facility could be converted for Town use for about $1 million over the purchase price, saying such expenditure may not necessarily result in a “a completely soup-to nuts-job, but a perfectly usable space with all the partitions in place.” He listed several alternatives, such as determining the height of the partition walls, which would determine the level of up-grade to the heating and cooling system already in place, as matters to consider to try to keep renovation costs down.

The zoning law, which designates the parcel as a Special Light Industrial District, while permitting “Town Offices” prohibits “Court and Police” facilities. There is varying opinion among Town officials as to whether the zoning law would need to be amended if the proposal to purchase and renovate the building were to move forward.

Whether or not the proposal will move to the next stage is not easy to determine. Simonson said, “When the ESA (phase 1 and 2) [environmental assessments] are completed we would then move onto a structural engineering report. All of the information compiled in these analyses will aid in price negotiation,” which appears to be a step toward serious consideration. Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum issued what appears to be an encouraging e-mail on her opinion of the walk-through to fellow board members, as did Moran.

However, Councilman Jay Wenk responded, “I am concerned that the report sent by Terrie about Elna left out so much crucial detail, and by omission implies that all went well.” Wenk is on record as not in support for the proposal. Councilman Chris Collins had no comment.

In the mean time, as per a Town Board discussion at its last meeting, the Town sent a letter to Senators Schumer and Gillibrand, Representative Hinchey and Governor Paterson a letter expressing interest in applying for an Energy Efficiency Block Grant for municipal facilities under the American Recovery and Reinvestment Bill of 2009. While the letter describes the shelved Town Hall renovation project as “shovel ready,” it also goes on to discuss the possibility of renovating Elna Ferrite or constructing from the ground a municipal building at the foot of Comeau Drive.

Mullally, Young and Larios all provided their time at no charge to the Town.

Viva La Evolution

2009-03-05T05:33:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, February 26 edition

It is fascinating to discover how words and their meaning are susceptible to the same forces of evolution, per Charles Darwin, that apply to creatures. Mr. Darwin, whose 200th birthday was recently celebrated, you will recall, announced the discovery that a slit-eyed, forked-tongued lizard that ambled the earth 200 hundred million years ago, after a series of genetic adaptations that took millennia to accomplish, eventually came to produce a specimen like, well like councilman Chris Collins, for instance, an example I choose only because his prominence helps make the point so lucidly. The same evolutionary principle applies to words.

Take the word ‘magnanimity’, which we now use to describe ‘great generosity or noble-spiritedness.’ It comes from the compound of ‘magna,’ which we remember from our study of the Magna Carta means ‘great’ (the more subtle student realizes the compound, ‘Charlesmagne’ as ‘Charles the Great’) and ‘anima,’ which in ancient times meant ‘soul’ or ‘spirit.’ So to be magnanimous once described possession of a ‘great soul of spirit.’

In our ancient and brutal past the word ‘magnanimous’ had a different connotation. For instance, in Machiavelli’s, “The Prince,” the author, who otherwise expresses a deep admiration for Cesare Borgia, nevertheless takes him to task for not immediately putting to the sword all his enemies when given the opportunity, and concludes with his opinion that such failure was due to Mr. Borgia’s “lack of magnanimity.”

Like all the ancient virtues, we have watered magnanimity down so much that now only acts of generosity and warm-heartedness are considered its examples. Exceptions to this may include fat checks from Bernie Madoff and the Committee For Woodstock’s Future.

Diluted or not, let’s explore the magnanimity of councilman Chris Collins, for he has made no attempt to make it inconspicuous.

Collins is now in his fourth year in office. Like a sirocco, the wind that emanates from North Africa, his term has raised howls and whirls, and yet when the dust settles the landscape somehow looks fairly unmolested. For all his fury in attacking zoning amendments and comprehensive plans, the only documents left in his wake of diminished gusts are marked DRAFT. This is a subtle form of magnanimity, rather like the person who will not smile lest we be disturbed by her sorry teeth. When you see the latest DRAFT of the wetland and watercourse amendment to the zoning law (this coming March 10) you will know exactly what I mean.

Magnanimous Collins, along with fellow board members Jay Wenk and Liz Simonson, stood among those who predicted the End Of Woodstock resulting from the KTD monastery expansion, which is now near completion. This passion, however, did not prevent him from being one of the first people to bound onto Andy Lee Field to hear His Holiness, the Dalai Lama’s teaching on compassion. The experience apparently so touched our representative that the Town’s record book is graced with the following resolution:

"Offered by Councilman Collins, seconded by Councilwoman Simonson:

"Whereas the Dalai Lama of Tibet has a bond of kinship with the town of Woodstock and has made a personal visit to our community and has solidified that bond of kinship, and;

"Whereas international media and rescue organizations and democracies worldwide have called this oppression cultural genocide, and;

"Whereas some of those protests have ended in violent and deadly clashes resulting in a high death toll, and;... " etc.

The intended purpose of the resolution, which had been mangled during the tumult of amendments made after its introduction, some of you may recall, was to urge the government of China to accept an autonomous Tibet, this authored by a man who disdained the expansion of a Tibetan Buddhist monastery in his own town. So you see, Collins’ magnanimity is such to compass the globe.

Collins, with the same cohort mentioned above, railed against the deal that resulted in a cell tower, execrating the morons that authorized it and even conspiring with litigants against the Town to try and stop it, and yet with breath-taking magnanimity he made not a squeak in court while the attorney for the Town defended the same deal before a state supreme court judge. For fear that one accuses me of hagiography I should mention that his cohort was equally silent.

This same, extraordinary heart now defends those opposed to the RUPCO proposal to build 53 units of senior and affordable housing in Woodstock. Let me correct this; Collins has opposed the project right from the beginning, but only recently has he unsheathed and brandished the sword, which he thinks will do unto RUPCO what Cesare Borgia failed to do unto his enemies. According to press reports, Collins, presumably with the help of his cohort, thinks he has the power to scuttle the project with the Town’s refusal to extend it water and sewer service.

As loathsome as people are who require senior and affordable housing, indeed we find out every day more and more how loathsome and despicable, they are a life form, however lowly, which even Darwin would concur in need of water and sanitation in order to thrive. So Collins’ sword may be truly potent, a potency perhaps inversely proportional to our expectation when considering his record of conquest thus far.

We are left with one question; why wait? As we speak RUPCO is spending oodles of cash on experts to satisfy the environmental questions posed by the Woodstock planning board, and the people that Collins has promised to protect are spending oodles on attorneys to find sand and/or deficiency in the said experts’ ointment. If Chris Collins truly believes that the board has the power to stop RUPCO with one, magnanimous thrust he should come to the next town board meeting with a resolution, perhaps reprising some of his Tibetan resolution language, something like,

"Whereas some of the protests over the RUPCO proposal have ended in violent and deadly clashes resulting in a high death toll, and... "

And then after some disquisition on the objectionable features of RUPCO get right to,

“Therefore be it Resolved that the town board of the Town of Woodstock shall not now or at any time in the future honor any request to extend municipal water or sewer service to the said RUPCO project.”

The world wonders, does he have, or does he lack such magnanimity? Lawyers, experts, SAGE, RUPCO, the planning board and taxpayers are waiting to find out.

COUNCILMAN DENIES REPORT

2009-03-05T05:29:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, February 26 edition

Woodstock, February 23, 2009

A press report that seemed to indicate Woodstock councilman Chris Collins may be inclined to “scuttle” the RUPCO proposal to build 53 units of senior and affordable housing behind the Bradley Meadows shopping center by refusing it municipal water and sewer service was refuted by Collins. In a written reply to this reporter, who had asked Collins to verify the report — and if it were true to discuss when he might offer a resolution to the town board to deny the water/sewer service — Collins said, “If that is what you read it is completely false, and perhaps to your chagrin, I won't be presenting any resolution. When I spoke with the reporter he was not taking notes at the time and I was on my way out of the public hearing. In conversation about the RUPCO project I commented, ‘The Planning Board must decide on the project's approval as they are Lead Agency, but RUPCO will have to go to the town board for hookup to sewer and water and the town board will ultimately have to make that decision.’ That's it. I never suggested what the town board would do since I am not a prognosticator. Decisions like these can only be made after a request it [sic] the board and after all the facts are presented.”

Judging by a letter Collins delivered to the planning board at its February 12 hearing on the RUPCO draft environmental impact statement, however, it appears Collins has made up his mind to oppose the project as it now stands. “It is true Woodstock has been remiss about creating affordable housing,” wrote Collins. “We have seriously neglected our responsibilities here. We have failed to resolve this issue… Somewhere we lost the will or never had it. That said, we must now find a way better than what you [RUPCO] insist on.” He went on to suggest that RUPCO “Help us build affordable housing over time, help us spread it around town, help us integrate it gradually into our neighborhoods, help us do it our way, not your way.”

RUPCO representative Guy Kempe when reached for comment said that an application for water/sewer hookup would require a “ministerial, not a legislative response” by the town board, and seemed surprised by Collin’s understanding of the law

* * *

The issue was not discussed at the Woodstock town board’s special meeting held this last Monday to continue to discuss fees and terms for rental of Town buildings for private uses. After deliberation that began at 4:00 PM and consumed almost an hour it was decided to maintain the current fee schedule, but to give exemption to 501 (c) 3 (not-for-profit) organizations that do not charge admission to their events (although they can still “request” donations), have at least one Woodstock resident board member, and who will not charge a fee to vendors invited to participate in their events. With regard to liability insurance, it was decided that “passive” uses, for instance poetry readings and drum circles, would not require proof of insurance, but activities such as dancing and exercise would. Entities that engage in non-passive activities will have ninety days to comply with the new insurance requirement, if they have not already.

The fee schedule is currently $15.00 per hour for residents, $25.00 per hour for non-residents. Arrangements for use of either the Town Hall or Community Center are to be made with the town clerk. Current arrangements with Performing Arts of Woodstock and the Woodstock Film Festival will remain in effect.

In other business, councilwoman Liz Simonson, after consultation with Steve Finkle, director of the office for economic development of the City of Kingston, urged the town board to send a letter to Ulster County, state and federal officials that would perhaps attract funding from the recently federally adopted ‘stimulus’ package to the “shovel ready” Town Hall renovation project that was stalled on costs that exceeded expectations. Members of the town board briefly recapped positions already expressed on the matter, Simonson stating that if a large percentage of the costs of renovating the Town Hall would be covered by stimulus moneys the Town would be foolish not to pursue it, councilman Chris Collins maintaining that construction of a new town hall at the foot of Comeau Drive was economically feasible, and supervisor Jeff Moran holding to his belief that purchase and renovation of the Elna Ferrite building on the Bearsville Flats might offer the best solution both economically and practically for solving the Town’s need for more space and better facilities. It was finally decided to include in the letter to potential funding sources, along with the completed design work for the Town Hall renovation, mention of the other two possibilities.

In an interview with Finkle, who had just attended a meeting focused on the availability of the federal moneys for local projects, it appears most funding will go to infrastructure projects, such as roads, bridges and municipal sewer and water. Mr. Finkle was unsure if town hall renovations would qualify, however he was vaguely aware of funding for ‘discretionary’ projects, funding that may require the assistance of federal representatives.

* * *

Sources in the Woodstock town government who wish not to be identified report an effort afoot to seek the recusal of two members of the planning board, David Corbett and Paul Shultis Jr., from determinations regarding the RUPCO application to build 53 units of senior/affordable housing in Woodstock. It is alleged by some that Corbett and Shultis’ service on the volunteer committee that recommended the site behind Bradley Meadows for an affordable housing proposal compromised their objectivity with regard to the RUPCO application. Opposing this view are those who maintain that recommending the site for investigation in no way committed Corbett and Shultis to its development, that their recommendation came with no suggestions with regard to size and scope, and indeed neither of them have given the slightest indication on where they stand on the RUPCO proposal as it now stands. It is also pointed out that neither Corbett nor Shultis have any financial interest in RUPCO or the proposed project or any entity involved with the project.

Planning board member Peter Cross had already recused himself when it had been suggested that his employment by a surveying firm involved in the project would give the appearance of a conflict in interest. Were Corbett and Shultis to be removed from the decision-making the matter of processing the RUPCO application would devolve on the remaining four planning board members Mark Peritz, Allen Duane, Laurie Ylvisacker and Paul Henderson. An application before the planning board can only be approved by no less than four votes. Peritz has publicly made statements critical of the application. Ylvisacker, before she was appointed to the planning board, had also made critical statements publicly.

Supervisor Jeff Moran, when reached for comment, was not aware of such move. Terrie Rosenblum responded, “I have heard the same rumors, but to my knowledge, David Corbett was not on the affordable housing committee. As for Paul, I did not hear him voice any opinion on the [RUPCO] issue while I was on the Planning Board, even when he explained the Affordable Housing Committee's mission and process to us at a planning board meeting.” Rosenblum served with both Corbett and Shultis before she was elected to the town board in 2005. Councilwoman Simonson’s response was, “I’m not aware of anything.”

There was no response from councilpersons Jay Wenk or Chris Collins.

Shultis was re-appointed to the planning board by a unanimous vote of the town board this past January.

RUPCO Agonistes, Continued

2009-02-27T09:19:00.000-08:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, February 26 edition

If there is one good thing to come out of this whole RUPCO controversy it is the reminder of how dreadful and awful children are.

RUPCO, of course, is now the acronym for the proposed 53 units of affordable housing which are to be airlifted, say some, from the slums of Mumbai, and deposited on a pristine, 19 acre wetland in Woodstock, hitherto domicile to seven bog turtles and fifty-eight thousand single-use plastic baggies, many of them feral.

For the last five years the Woodstock planning board, cattle-prodded by the community, has given the 19-acre wetland attention amounting to more than all the world’s focus on the Brazilian rainforest. Their investigation has established that the 53 units will be constructed across seven acres not located in the 19-acre wetland, and in fact there will be a minimum 100-foot buffer between the 19-acre wetland and the nearest shack. There should be no disturbance to the seven bog turtles or the wild fifty-eight thousand single-use baggies.

Under guidance from the same cattle prod the planning board has applied equal diligence to issues relating to water and air quality, traffic, lighting, spotted owls and snail darters. Investigation so far has disclosed no serious impact on these elements.

Some people thought the planning board should cower from the ghastly specter of tree slaughter, for indeed it is predicted a good number of third-growth trees will be removed to make room for the slums to be airlifted from Mumbai. But the embarrassment that came with the realization that in the last ten years the planning board had approved the construction in areas all over the town no less than seventy-five dwellings with seventy-five clearings, and seventy-five driveways, and seventy-five wells, and seventy-five septic fields and seventy-five yards, plus ten or fifteen swimming pools, which must have caused the destruction of no less than one hundred and seventy-five thousand trees, has given the planning board the fortitude, some will say the shamelessness to face this new arboreal massacre.

So for those opposed to airlifting slums of Mumbai to Woodstock, there appeared to be less and less recourse for denial of the RUPCO application.

Until someone fussed about the revelation that the 53 units could domicile up to 36 children!

Children, of course, have always been the bane of humanity. Not only has the arrival of children in many instances signaled the departure of romance, but even in those relationships that endure the imposition of children’s mewling, sniffling and whining there is the additional aggravation of feeding, clothing, housing and educating the little buggers. Our society, which some call ‘advanced,’ has actually become the most primitive tyranny, with laws that force parents or guardians to feed, clothe and house their children, and if not done adequately sends off the offending parents and guardians to be fed, clothed and housed in a jail.

Our society extends its tyranny by forcing even those who had the forethought to never have children to nonetheless help finance the education of children born to those sociopathic parents who demonstrated far less consideration for the community. Yes, it’s called ‘school tax.’

Studies have shown that people with more years of education tend to have less number of children. Yet despite the trillions of dollars spent over the millennia to educate the young we still have children around. So obviously, educating children is a dead-ender.

Woodstock was well on its way to eradicating children, recently even electing to the town board an eighty-two year old man who crusades against cars idling and people having children. What a breath of fresh air he is! With any luck the town-sponsored youth athletic leagues will dry up, the Woodstock youth center will fold, the Woodstock elementary school will shutter its windows, and we can revel in the Apollonian beauty and grace of Jay Wenk.

Once Woodstock gets the dead-beat kids out of here, then we then can work on the old timers who are responsible for the taxes that pay for Medicare and Medicaid and social security. Except Jay, of course, who will be our hero for throwing the last kid from Woodstock over the town line to Saugerties.

We have a new rallying cry to prevent the slums of Mumbai from landing on a pristine wetland in Woodstock; Kids Suck. Should this cogent argument, if not spawned at least given nurture and credence recently in the pages of a local paper, not stop the RUPCO proposal in its tracks, well then by golly we might as well all throw in the towel and prepare ourselves for a grim future shared with children. Can any prospect be more loathsome?

I won’t pretend total agreement, but I do feel honest sympathy for the concerns, environmental or otherwise, of those opposed to the RUPCO proposal. I just hope they don’t pick up this bummer of an argument and run with it.

* * *

A ‘Let There Be Light’ moment: I can’t remember if it was one month or two months before the 2005 Democratic caucus when councilwoman Liz Simonson announced her bold endeavor to “green” the Town’s buildings and vehicles. We broke our necks getting her elected to her third term so she could “green” the Town. Progress has been slow, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. A year ago she persuaded the town board to spring for some software that was going to help “green” the Town. Unfortunately, like most software it needed data to work with, and there began the long, long chore of data entry. Progress has been slow, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. At last, in January of this year Simonson figured out the electric bills for various Town buildings. The sewage treatment plant used $28,000 in electricity last year (2008)! She was so shocked by this figure that she has repeated it numerous times (I guess finally somebody will get sick of hearing about it and do something). I just happened recently to be glancing at the Town budget. Since it keeps a record of previous years expenditures I saw that in 2007 the sewer plant used $27,742.96 in electricity. This is $257.04 less than the 2008 expenditure Liz “discovered.” I’m left wondering if for only $257.04 Liz really had to go though all that time and trouble to add up electric bills that the Town’s bookkeeper had already tabulated. Well, so now we know why Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Unsolicited advice: Reed beds, anyone?

Town Board Meeting, February 10 (Part 2)

2009-02-27T09:15:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, February 19 edition

The Woodstock town board at its March 10 meeting will re-open the public hearing on a proposed amendment to the zoning law regulating development near wetlands, watercourses and water bodies. The town board opened the public hearing at an October, 2008 meeting, where the 26 page, single spaced document was greeted by many members of the public as too long, cumbersome and complicated, and created the unanswered question of who, the Town or the applicant, should pay for the additional professional services required to administer the law. The revised document on file with the town clerk does not appear to address those concerns, and in fact may exacerbate them by proposing to completely erase exemptions to the regulation, including postholes. Other elisions to the original document include description of applicant information required for planning board consideration, and other verbiage relating to purely administerial matters.

Perhaps a serious flaw is that the revision makes reference to sections that are not consistent with the recently codified version of the zoning law.

Dara Trahan, the Town’s planning technician, said in her introduction to the revised document, “I’ve been asked to highlight sections of the law that could be reduced in length.” Councilman Chris Collins, when asked about his input responded, “I work with others via open discussions i.e. we discuss changes, additions, deletions, edits etc. and weigh the pros and cons of every change and try to reach consensus on the best way to handle issues.” It is not known when or where the “open discussions” took place.

The town board also scheduled special meetings, one for February 23 at 4:00 PM at the Town Offices to continue a discussion regarding building rental fees, and one for March 9 at 4:00 PM at the Town Offices for another discussion regarding the proposed comprehensive plan.

In subcommittee reports, councilman Chris Collins, whose charge is to oversee land use regulation, cited the upcoming public hearing on the proposed amendment to the zoning law regulating development near wetlands, watercourses and water bodies, and the March 9 special meeting on the comprehensive plan, and left it at that.

Councilwoman Liz Simonson, in her charge to bring cell phone service to areas of the town not served, announced that she had contacted Verizon and the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) with regard to her proposal to install antenna on the so-called RNN tower on Overlook Mountain, and has tried to contact ATT on the same matter. There has so far been no response. She had nothing to report with regard to her endeavor to “green” the Town’s fleet of vehicles or its buildings, citing a “rough month.” She cited again her discovery after careful analysis that the sewage treatment plant used $28,000 in electricity in 2008, which is $257.04 more than the $27,742.96 spent in 2007. She praised supervisor Jeff Moran for his decision to close the public room in the Town Hall for the winter, citing a $1400 savings in fuel costs.

Councilman Jay Wenk’s proposal to forward to the town attorney a sixteen-page law prepared by George (“Jerry”) Washington to address buried fuel tanks was stalled by concerns of board members that it was too cumbersome and that now was not the time to consider adding a “public health officer” position to the Town’s payroll. There will be more discussion on the proposal at a later meeting.

Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum announced on behalf of the recreation commission their request for volunteers to help maintain the ice skating rink located at Rick Volz Field in Bearsville. With so much snow this year the Town’s maintenance department personnel had little resources for clearing the facility for the public’s use.

There was no second meeting of the town board in February so that members could attend the annual Association of Towns meeting in New York. The next regularly scheduled meeting of the town board will be March 10.

RUPCO Public Hearing, February 12 (Part 2)

2009-02-27T09:13:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, February 19 edition

A smaller but still sizable crowd turned out for Round Two, the continuation of the Woodstock planning board’s public hearing for comment on the draft environmental impact statement (DEIS) provided by Rural Ulster Preservation Company (RUPCO) with its application to build 53 units of affordable housing (the so-called ‘Woodstock Commons’) behind the Bradley Meadows shopping center in Woodstock.

Of roughly 30 speakers, fourteen expressed approval of the project, ten were against and six made requests for additional information and/or recommended more study of the DEIS, or otherwise made equivocal statements.

Arguments against the project included those made by Judy and Dave Bruck, who expressed concerns with traffic, environment, property values, taxes and the lack of guarantee that Woodstockers would get to live in the units. Thea Hambright, speaking along similar veins, asked the planning board to make RUPCO guarantee Woodstock workers would perform at least 50% of the construction and Woodstock residents reside in at least 50% of the units. Phyllis Lane predicted that increased traffic on quiet Playhouse Lane would devalue adjacent properties. Carol March decried the destruction of what she estimated to be 9600 trees on the proposed site, and thought RUPCO should consider renovating the now-empty Simulaids building in Bearsville. Harry Castiglione worried about traffic. Cheryl Chapman sent a letter expressing a concern with traffic. Loretta Klein, first criticizing what she thought was an exhibit of bad manners on the part of project supporters, expressed concerns about the environment and the availability of units to Woodstockers. Bill Cook also had environmental concerns. Jay Cohen offered a rambling dissertation concerning “group A” and “group B,” and ultimately attacked RUPCO’s “hype” about the project and predicted “chaos” were it approved.

More or less equivocal were statements by David Menzes, who critiqued the scale of the project and the “process” that led to it; Abby Mitchell, who worried that increased global warming might result in flooding to the area; Jay Wenk, who thought the world was becoming too populated, “although I don’t know what you [the planning board] can do about that;” and Dr. Arthur DiNapoli, who does not support the project but felt that a planning board denial would result in a “lawyer fest” that opponents would eventually lose. “I’m against it, but we will get by.”

Speakers for the project included Rene Imperato, Michael Pacut, Judy Flynn, David Boyle, Robert Young and Mike Shaughnessy, each taking the position that the environmental review has been thorough, and that Woodstock’s need for affordable housing is acute.

Former town board members Gordon Wemp and Bill McKenna spoke for the project. McKenna reminded the listeners of how former controversial land use decisions, for instance the firehouse in Bearsville, the cell tower, the highway garage and the senior housing behind the post office, had all been executed without the ensuing doom predicted by opponents. Wemp, addressing the often-repeated idea that Woodstock “do it [construct affordable housing] ourselves,” cast his eye about the widely acknowledged embarrassment of the condition of the Community Center and said, “This facility speaks for itself.” McKenna and Wemp each urged the planning board to work with RUPCO to make the best project possible.

Woodstock Land Conservancy member Michael DeWan, after making it clear he was speaking for himself and not the organization that in the past had taken stands on land-use proposals, but which has remained neutral in this debate, made a passionate speech supporting the project, saying it gives “the potential for Woodstock to exemplify a good community,” and noting, “Our nation has just done something remarkable; so can Woodstock.” DeWan was referring to the election of Barack Obama, whose name had been invoked by several preceding supporters of the project.

Deborah DeWan, director of policy and program development for the Catskill Center for Conservation and Development (CCCD), but also speaking for herself, stated her strong support for the project, noting its positive environmental features and that the opposition “does not represent our better nature.”

Barry Samuels, president of the Woodstock Chamber of Commerce and Arts, but speaking as a private individual, wished that the RUPCO project would be located across Chestnut Hill Road from his residence rather than the ten homes instead slated for development there. “I would choose living across the street from the Woodstock Commons with its 53 units over the development of ten second homes,” he said, looking forward to more full time residents of the town.

Michael Berg, director of Family of Woodstock and a member of the Ulster County Affordable Housing Consortium, speaking in support of the project reminded listeners that “this is not a popularity contest,” and went on to describe the extremely low availability of affordable housing in the area. He took those speakers who had expressed worry that the housing would be available to “non-Woodstockers” to task by asking rhetorically, “Where was the opposition to all the second homes being built here?”

Maryanne Collins asked the planning board to make their decision based “on the merits and not the emotions” surrounding the proposed project, and concluded her statement of support for the project by noting, “Woodstock will become a Hamlin, and no children will be here.” Hamlin, it will be recalled, lost all its children to the Pied Piper.

The public hearing, which had begun at 6:00 PM, ended with a unanimous vote to close it. The next step is for the planning board to digest the comments addressed to it, and to decide within thirty days on a format for RUPCO representatives to respond to them.

Valentine's Day Condolence

2009-02-19T07:01:00.000-08:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, February 12 edition

Let us dedicate ourselves to the proposition that those who profess love for the first time, or tangle in new ways with that frightful emotion, are soon to face the worst, most awkward and potentially embarrassing day of his/her life this coming Saturday, February 14, aka Valentine’s Day.

I have many reasons to be grateful for entering the 28th year of marriage to my sweetie, and perhaps one of them is not living in dread of the rapid approach of Valentine’s Day. Don’t get me wrong, I know that a sober, thoughtful gesture will be required of me, be it nice chocolates, a sincere sentiment written into a carefully chosen card, or some fresh expression of how lucky and fulfilled I feel to have had this wonderful woman endure me all these years. I am long past the old mistakes of buying her a leaf blower or new potholders for Valentine’s Day. As much as I will try my best to please her with a heartfelt token of my love, I have the comfort of knowing that if I louse it up it won’t mean I’m packing my bags on the 15th. At least I don’t think it will.

But for those new in the adventure of romantic love V Day nears with great peril. Feelings can be so wrought and convoluted that it’s rather odd that humans should consider themselves ‘rational’ beings.

If we were rational beings we could expect an exchange something like the following:

First Person: “I think you are wonderful and beautiful and I feel very attracted to you.”
Second Person: “You do? Gosh, I don’t feel that same way toward you.”
First Person: “Oh, you don’t? I guess I’ll find someone else to feel very attracted to.”
Second Person: “That’s a good idea. I hear there are billions of people on the planet, and I bet one of them will be perfect for you. Good luck.”
First Person: “Thanks for listening. Have a nice day.”

Instead we hear exchanges like:

First Person: “Um, er, like wow.”
Second Person: “You think?”
First person: “Sort of, yeah.”
Second Person: “I don’t think so.”
First Person: “I’m going to kill myself.”

Honestly and truly, which would you prefer?
1) Telling someone for the first time how deeply and passionately you feel for him/her without first having any idea how he/she will respond, or
2) An arranged marriage.

Now pity those countless, unmatched hearts out there grappling with these kinds of feelings, and expected to somehow crystallize them simply because the calendar insists that they should. Marcel Proust saw right into this quandary when he observed, “There is nothing like desire for preventing the things one says from bearing any resemblance to what one has in one’s mind.” Ain’t it so?

Let’s not fool ourselves into thinking this is an affliction visited solely on the young. True, Romeo and Juliet fell in love when they were kids and killed themselves. But Anthony and Cleopatra fell in love when they were middle-aged adults and they killed themselves. There’s no proof, but I bet they all did it either just before or just after Valentine’s Day. Their experiences give credence to that dependable American lexicographer, Ambrose Bierce, who defined ‘Love’ as, “A temporary insanity curable by marriage or by removal of the patient from the influences under which he incurred the disorder. This disease… in prevalent only among civilized races living under artificial conditions; barbarous nations breathing pure air and eating simple food enjoy immunity from its ravages.”

Some people attribute the rise and prevalence of Valentine’s Day to greeting card companies. I doubt it because I can’t believe such a large number of remorseless sadists could possibly exist in our society and not be jailed.

No, I think it more than mere coincidence that the rise of Valentine’s Day in our society followed roughly the demise of public executions. Since no longer being privy to watching people face death at the end of a noose, we have instituted the yearly rite of watching people face their doom at the end of their awful, flailing and suspenseful professing of love.

I hate shilling for the greeting card companies, but if you know anybody out there who has recently fallen in love, take pity and send a sympathy card. If you happen to be one of the unfortunate souls trying to figure out what to get/give/offer your new sweetheart this Saturday, I leave you with words, again belonging to Proust: “…Delicious vagueness rich in expected surprises, which is romance.”

Good luck, and remember; there are billions of people on this planet.

Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear, sweet wife.

* * *

Hallmark Moment: Despite the sharp differences of opinion, the 130 or so residents gathered at the Community Center for the public hearing regarding the proposed RUPCO affordable housing project were so respectful to one another that several people in the hall found themselves applauding statements made by both sides. There was one senior fellow at the back of the room doing such, and while applauding a comment by someone approving the project he was approached by a worried Woodstock councilman, Chris Collins, and reminded, “You’re not supposed to clap for people who support the project.” Ah, the clarity!

Town Board Meeting, February 10

2009-02-19T06:54:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, February 12 edition

Woodstock, February 10, 2009

The federal stimulus package, at this moment still stalled in the congress, may put a new wrinkle into the controversy surrounding the Town Hall versus Elna Ferrite issue. Councilwoman Liz Simonson, having had a conversation with Dan Ahouse, aide to congressman Maurice Hinchey, informed the board of the possibility of obtaining federal grants to offset possibly as much as 80% costs of creating an energy efficient facility. The Town Hall renovation project, completely designed for energy efficiency, but stalled on bids that exceeded the bonding authorization, may qualify for such funding. Simonson expressed the concern that pursuing the Elna Ferrite building may take so long that the Town would lose the grant opportunity.

Old arguments were rehashed concerning the Town Hall’s inadequacy with regard to enough space for the departments to be housed in it and its inadequate parking, versus the potential for the Elna Ferrite building to house all the Town’s departments, with Councilman Chris Collins advancing the former and supervisor Jeff Moran taking the latter.

In the meantime, Dennis Larios of Brinnier & Larios, the engineering firm that helped the Town construct the new highway facility, offered to walk through the Elna Ferrite building and advise the Town on how to proceed with its consideration of that location.

Moran hopes to assign a task force to study the alternatives.

The meeting of the Woodstock town board began with a recommendation by Paul Shultis Jr representing the Skate Park task force that the town spend approximately $42,000 to install a new, ten-foot high fence around a portion of the park and cloak it with a special sound-deadening sound blanket. The task force had been appointed by the town board to investigate means of abating the annoyance to neighbors caused by noise from the skate park adjacent the Woodstock youth center. Chaired by Shultis, the members included councilperson Terrie Rosenblum, youth center director Fern Malkine-Falvey and Jay Cohen.

Shultis and Cohen, while admitting that there can be no absolute guarantee the project would completely satisfy the affected neighbors – none of whom had attended the last three task force meetings – they felt the sound barrier would certainly bring the park within compliance of the law as it pertains to decibel levels.

Cohen, at the request of the board, will obtain references and testimonials from users of the product, and assuming that goes well the “ball will be in your [the town board’s] court,” said Shultis.

David Lewis, who had been tasked last December with investigating the possibility of instituting bike lanes on town, county and state highways, in his preliminary report described the idea “as an amazingly complicated issue” and asked that his final report, scheduled for March, be put off until May.

Meira Blaustein, representing the Woodstock Film Festival, asked for and received an assurance from the board that rental rates for use of the Community Center and the Town Hall for the 2009 film festival will not be increased. In 2008 the festival paid the Town $1744 for the six-day use. The 2009 festival is scheduled September 30-October 4.

Assessor Marc Plate urged the board to adopt a resolution in protest of Governor David Paterson’s proposal to cap the state’s payment of property taxes on state lands. Although the impact to Woodstock would not be extreme by itself, coupled with less state aid to education, plus mandated relief to property taxes paid by utilities, including cable and telephone, Plate felt the cumulative impacts called for a Town remonstrance from the Town. New York State owns lands valued at $13 million dollars in Woodstock. The board unanimously adopted such resolution, and will forward it to state and county officials.

At the invitation of Collins planning board member Peter Cross, a professional wetland delineator and surveyor sought for his advice on helping construct the “base document” that is needed to execute the Comeau easement with the Woodstock Land Conservancy, advised the board to perform a new survey in CAD (computer aided design) format. He estimated such cost at about $13,000. The “base document” would be a description of the 76 acre parcel in its present form, including existing buildings, topography and parking lots and a delineation of portions reserved for municipal purposes, including potential future improvements. The board reserved judgment as to whether to conduct such a survey until further consultation with the Conservancy.

In a matter also related to the Comeau property, Paul Shultis Jr, who is involved with the Woodstock soccer program, asked the board to consider creating a new, separate ingress to the upper parking lot, claiming it would improve traffic safety. The board has budgeted to improve the parking lot, a project currently awaiting an interpretation from the Woodstock zoning board of appeals to see if the proposed expansion of the lot, also to increase traffic safety, would require a variance from the zoning law.

The board had yet another endless discussion concerning building rental rates, which finally ended in the decision to take the matter up in March.

Affordable Housing Public Hearing

2009-02-19T06:53:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, February 12 edition

Woodstock, February 5, 2009

Approximately 130 people crowded into the Community Center to participate in the planning board’s first public hearing for comment on the Rural Ulster Preservation Company (RUPCO) draft environmental impact statement (DEIS) concerning the proposed 53-unit affordable housing development, the so-called Woodstock Commons, to be located behind the Bradley Meadows shopping center. Despite the controversy that has raged around the proposal, first advanced more than five years ago, civility was maintained throughout the near-four hour proceeding. Because the three-minute cap on comment went largely un-enforced only about half of the nearly eighty people who had signed up to speak were heard, and the hearing would be adjourned until February 12.

Aside from Kevin O’Connor, executive director of RUPCO, who outlined the proposal’s environmental sensitivity in positive terms, describing it as “the most innovative in all of New York State,” and Sensible Action for Growth and Environment (SAGE) attorney Warren Raplansky, who presented a number of concerns with the DEIS, there were about 38 speakers or their representatives, 17 offering positive comment on the proposal, and 19 criticizing it. Of the 19, ten identified themselves as neighbors in the area of the proposed development. Two additional comments could not be discerned as for or against.

Technically the hearing was to gather comment on the quality and completeness of the environmental review provided by RUPCO, and in this regard the opponents of the project spoke with more specificity to the matter, citing what in their opinion were deficiencies in the report with respect to protecting wetlands, wildlife and the aquifer reported to lie below the project site, and for failing to take into account the potential for flooding and unsafe traffic conditions, taking too lightly the potential tax impact on the township (as a result of school tax increases), not establishing the legal right to municipal water and sewer service, underestimating lighting impacts, and not securing the eventuality that the housing would be available exclusively to Woodstock residents but instead for all participants of a state-wide lottery.

Supporters of the project spoke in more general terms, citing the town’s acute need for affordable housing, RUPCO’s sensitivity to environmental issues that may not be expected from other developers, the potential boost to local merchants, the fact that the 1989 zoning law supports the clustering of housing on that property, and although theoretically the housing, because it is supported by public financing, must be made available to anyone in New York, in reality it would end up benefiting mostly people currently living within a fifteen mile radius.

Ulster County legislators representing Woodstock, Don Gregorius and Brian Shapiro were the first speakers. Gregorius, prefacing his remarks by stating that as an elected official it should be expected he take a stand, declared that the project’s negatives outweigh the positives, citing increased taxes and the uncertainty of the lottery providing housing to Woodstock residents, and asking rhetorically, “Why can’t we do this ourselves?” Shapiro, first describing the substandard housing he was forced to inhabit when he first came to town, then reminded the planning board of the town’s continued dearth of affordable housing and described RUPCO as a willing partner in addressing environmental concerns. “Work with RUPCO to make this the best project possible.”

Neighbors speaking against the project, or having statements read in their absence, included Iris York, Andrea Winston, Michael and Robin Kramer, Dot Wright, Terry Breitenstein, Judith Emily, Dolores Lynch. Jean White, Barbara Duncan and a Ms Story. All the statements addressed issues in the DEIS and found them deficient. A young man who used to play in the wetlands adjacent the proposed project, and whose family, he stated, had been forced to move from Woodstock because of taxes, also spoke against the project.

Breitenstein, one of SAGE’s more prominent spokesmen, in an eloquent statement described RUPCO as a “fine outfit,” but went on to say that “impacts can’t be predicted.” In response to some voices in the community charging him and his neighbors with less than savory motives for opposing the project, he said, “We are not bad people, we are your neighbors with very deep concerns.”

Other speakers against the project included Peter Remler, saying the project “serves RUPCO, not Woodstock” and described the proposal as “immoral.” Gerri and Laura Ricci, local landlords, thought not enough protection was given to bears, thought the project too large and that there was not enough guarantee locals would inhabit the units. Edgar Rosenblum considered the project to be further assault on a property that never should have seen the development of the Bradley Meadows shopping center in the first place (which had occurred in the late 1960s), let alone the proposed additional project behind it. Tom Jenkins thought that the Town’s failure to adopt an updated comprehensive growth plan led to the proposed project, which he thought unfortunate. Hattie Iles felt “insulted by RUPCO’s stated purpose to bring diversity” to Woodstock, feeling the town was diverse enough. Marge Farnet also spoke against it.

Christine Flomez, identifying herself as a wildlife rehabilitator, objected to the proposed paths and walking trails through the property’s wetlands, but describing herself as “shocked” by rentals in Woodstock she advised the planning board “to make housing happen, but take care of the wildlife.” Allison Gerson expressed concerns relating to water and traffic.

Speakers for the project included Lisa Williams (“I look forward to living in Woodstock Commons”), Steve Yoda (“Providing affordable housing is a matter of social justice”), Clarice Buller (“We’ve paid enough money to slum lords; This is a gift to Woodstock”), Carol Buske (“This project is a win-win”), former chair of the Woodstock commission for civic design Jill Fisher (“You might consider an additional access-egress through Elwyn Lane”), and Nadia Steinzor (“This is a model of ‘green’ design’”). Martin Feinberg read a letter from Susan Goldman expressing strong support.

Tom Collins, who had served on Woodstock affordable housing committees dating back more than 20 years, and Sasha Gillman, former chair of the planning board, spoke in support. Both took current planning board chairman Mark Peritz to task for making public statements that appeared to be against the project and thereby compromised his objectivity, and each made the prediction that once the project was approved that the “controversy will subside” as it has regarding other contentious land use decisions in the past (CVS, highway garage, Woodstock Meadows, cell tower, etc.). Tamara Cooper, Family of Woodstock director, spoke in support, citing her experiences as a single mother striving to find decent, affordable housing when raising her children, and hoping such would be available should her children ever decided to come back and reside in the area.

Jonathan Drapkin, President & CEO of Pattern for Progress, a non-profit, public policy research and planning institute with the stated mission to "preserve and promote the social, economic and natural environments of the Hudson Valley region by building consensus for a pattern of growth that will insure a high quality of life,” spoke for the project, claiming “To the credit of the planning board and the community this is one of the most reviewed projects in the region.”

Pat Courtney, coordinator for the Mid-Hudson Energy Smart/ New York State Energy Research and Development Agency and Woodstock resident praised the environmental features of the project and noted, “Thirty years have gone by and we haven’t done it [provided affordable housing] ourselves.”

Woodstock resident Matthew Rudikoff, a professional planner, dismissed the significance of the environmental concerns raised by opponents, reminded the planning board of its responsibility to administer the zoning law as it is written and not make decisions based on personal tastes, and added that the planning board could establish conditions in the project approval that would make the lottery result in the greater likelihood of Woodstock residents getting to live in one of the 53 units.

At 10:50 the hearing was recessed and will be resumed at 6:00 PM on February 12 at the Community Center

Woodstock Town Board Special Meeting February 2

2009-02-12T18:14:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, February 5 edition

Woodstock, February 2, 2009

A special meeting of the Woodstock town board called to consider supervisor Jeff Moran's motion to solicit architectural services to help determine the costs of renovating the Elna Ferrite building for municipal purposes ended after discussion marked by sarcasm, insults, extreme changes in prior positions, and a 2-2 vote that failed to carry the motion. Councilman Chris Collins was absent.

In 2008 the town board engaged the services of architect Robert Young, who for a total of $4700 had consulted with town officials and department heads to devise a floor plan for the soon to be empty building located on the Bearsville Flats just west of the town center. At a December 2008 meeting departments heads representing most of the Town services, including emergency dispatch, police, justice court, assessor, and town clerk expressed enthusiastic approval of the Young floor plan, and urged the board to take action with respect to determining the cost of effecting the renovation.

The Town cannot offer up a bonding resolution without first knowing an approximate cost. At a December 30, 2008 meeting the town board, in the supervisor's absence, moved unanimously to take steps toward evaluating the Town's facilities. The notice published in two editions of the Town's official newspapers seeking architectural services attracted only two responders. It was the supervisor's hope that his refined proposal would attract more.

It now appears the councilman Jay Wenk has an extremely low opinion of Young's work, claiming that the proposed office space in the Elna building is too large. He also thought the Town should investigate the now-empty Overlook Press facility located near the Elna Ferrite building.

Councilpersons Terrie Rosenblum and Liz Simonson, in their only area of agreement, both thought the Overlook Press facility was "not appropriate."

Simonson became particularly caustic and self-contradictory, at one point suggesting that the board forget Young's product and "get someone who really knows what he's doing," but later asking, "Who in their right mind would go out an study a building he doesn't even own?"

The owner of the Elna Ferrite building, Diane Legier, has offered to sell the building for its assessed value. Because of the vagaries of the equalization rate this could mean anywhere from $840,000 to $1.1 million.

In a report made in 2008 Moran suggested that even at the higher purchase price, the cost of buying the building and renovating it would be cheaper than the proposed Town Hall renovation, which came in at $2 million dollars once the bids were opened, and which would do nothing to improve the extremely tiny and unsafe onsite parking situation. The Elna Ferrite facility has ample parking. For the last eleven months Moran has tried to coax the board toward engaging professional services to help determine a responsible estimate of the total cost of purchase and renovation. He has stressed that such determination would not necessarily constitute a decision, but only serve as an alternative to the Town Hall renovation to consider.

All this seemed to have been forgotten, Wenk expressing that "I feel I am being pushed to Elna, and I don't like that," and Simonson rolling her eyes and directing sarcasm at of all of 2008's work on the matter. Moran and Rosenblum voted for the resolution, Simonson and Wenk against it.

The 4:00 PM meeting had begun with the unanimous vote to advertise for a new animal control officer, and ended abruptly at 4:50 subsequent the failed motion.

Groundhog Day 2/5 edition

2009-02-12T18:05:00.000-08:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, February 5 edition

I'm sure, like me, you're sore as hell at Punxsutawney Phil, the "seer of seers and prognosticator of prognosticators," the groundhog resident of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. It appears that this fat cousin of the rat saw his shadow on February 2nd, and has doomed us to six more weeks of this wretched winter. Every snow plower in the county must be ecstatic. I haven't checked, but I bet the stock price of home fuel companies have hit the ceiling. Lucky Belleayre; unlucky us.

How did this rodent attain such power over the elements? Explanations vary, but research does indicate collusion involving the Punxsutawney Chamber of Commerce. Back in the 1880s one of its members, a Miss Witherspoon, purveyor of lady's sundries, looked out upon the dismal, empty Punxsutawney main street and wondered if the town council couldn't do more to attract business to the area. This was just after the Panic of '87 and just before the Blizzard of '88, an interregnum of potent significance, as you shall see. Punxsutawney Mayor Boing had just issued the sad report that the Town's moneys invested with a Rupert Runoff had been siphoned off into the dark cloud of the Panic of '87, never to be felt again. All the town had left was a mangy, old groundhog named Phil living under the library, and a recipe for groundhog stew. Miss Witherspoon — who at sixty years old maintained a dignity and demeanor implying all the truth of her honorific — had made a career of turning sows' ears into silk purses, and she suggested that Punxsutawney re-invent itself as the Colony of the Weather Prognosticator, and employ the mangy, hibernating rodent for good purpose. It so happened her suggestion also solved the scruple people have with eating animals they have named. Humans have eaten many a cow, but not one 'Elsie,' and of all the world's stewed groundhogs not one has been a 'Phil.'
And thus Groundhog Day was invented.

There was, of course, much skepticism at first. Up to that point in the entire history of Man the rodent had been perceived as inconspicuous of merit, if not in fact a complete bane on the human enterprise. But as profoundly Noah's ark building would find sad justification in the eyes of his dubious neighbors, thus would Miss Witherspoon's vision raise joyous admiration from her doubting fellow Chamber members, when Punxsutawney Phil on February 2, 1888 saw his shadow, and on the following March 12 the American east coast felt the Blizzard of '88.

It marked the end of Science in America, and the miracles of air-travel, cell phones and high definition television came quick on its heels. We hear of such things as 'El Nino' and the 'jet stream' to explain weather phenomena, but even the most cursory inspection of the town of Punxsutawney website informs us of what utter nonsense they are.

So yes, Punxsutawney Phil is responsible for the extension of this dreadful winter, and I am expecting the town board to do something about it.

* * *

Some stories are just too weird. Take this one for instance; viewers in Tucson, Arizona were interrupted while watching the Super Bowl this last Sunday by a twelve second broadcast of pornographic material that apparently had "bled in" from a cable signal meant for an "adult content" channel (is it just me or is there something oxymoronic about "adult content" when considering the puerile subject matter). According to the report, "The interruption came just after the Arizona Cardinals' Larry Fitzgerald scored on a long touchdown reception during the final minutes of the game." Nice score, Larry. But seriously, this is the first instance of a Super Bowl—porn connection since the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders last appeared in the championship game.

Two cable companies, Comcast and Cox, apparently serve Tucson. Guess which one broadcast the inappropriate material?

WRONG! It was Comcast.

"Comcast spokeswoman Tracy Bumgarter confirmed that the company's standard feed was interrupted during the Super Bowl, although she said its high definition feed was not." That’s a quote from — I swear -— Fox News.

The report goes on to say, "Joel Hilander of Tucson told The Associated Press that he and his young children saw the clip. 'I couldn't believe it. And I couldn't believe that my children were watching it either,' Hilander said."

Could have been worse, kiddies, you could have watched it in high definition.
Naturally, Cox Cable had to get in on the act.

"We have received no evidence that any inappropriate material was broadcast on any of our channels during the Super Bowl," said Cox spokesman. "The alleged incident appears to be isolated to the Comcast territory. We will offer our support to all appropriate organizations to help them determine what happened."

Just me, or do you also hear the sound of chirping?

In any case, I forecast a lawsuit against Comcast. Nowadays people sue at the drop of a g string.

Woodstock Democrats Go To primary 2/5 edition

2009-02-12T18:00:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, February 5 edition

The January meeting of the Woodstock Democratic Party Committee saw the unanimous approval for going to the primary system for selecting candidates for local elective office in the upcoming 2009 election, thereby foregoing the traditional caucus method.

Democratic Party caucuses in recent years have attracted an increasing number of participants. In 2003, a do-over for the position of town supervisor saw over three hundred participants, many of whom waited hours to vote by paper ballot, and most of whom could not fit into the Community Center to hear the candidates' speeches given prior. Many of the 500-plus participants in the 2005 caucus were so disenchanted with the process and its outcome that most of the incumbent Democratic Party Committee members were tossed from their seats in the next committee election. The 2007 caucus saw more than 600 participants, and although it appeared to run smoothly as a result of some procedural changes, some feared it was a result of dumb luck.

By going to a primary system candidates for the Democratic nomination for town offices must acquire approximately 150 signatures of Party members in order to appear on the ballot. The signatures must be collected during the petition process, which opens in June and ends in July. The election will be on Tuesday, September 8 between the hours of noon to 9:00 PM. The following positions are affected: Supervisor, Councilperson, Justice, Clerk, and Highway Superintendent.

Currently Jeff Moran, supervisor, Liz Simonson and Chris Collins, councilpersons, Richard Husted, town justice, Jackie Earley, town clerk and Michael Reynolds, highway superintendent, fill these positions. Councilpersons Terrie Rosenblum and Jay Wenk, and town justice Frank Engel are serving terms that do not expire until the end of 2011.

Woodstock Democratic Party chairman, Sam Magarelli, in a statement to party members said, "The overwhelming benefit of having a primary instead of a caucus is that the primary process will enable more Democrats to participate in the selection of their candidates."

Bill West, chairman of the Woodstock Republican Party saw good reason for the shift. "Going to a primary will certainly give more rank and file Democrats in Woodstock the opportunity to participate," he said, noting the growing number of Democrats. According to West local Republicans will decide later this year on whether to go to primary or maintain the traditional caucus, adding that to this point there had been no discussion on the subject.

The primary will be overseen and conducted by the Ulster County Board of Elections, which will be responsible for setting up voting machines, hiring custodians and election inspectors and other tasks associated with holding an election. The cost for such service will be charged back to the taxpayers of the Town of Woodstock. How much this will cost will depend on whether all nine election districts will be polled, or if the districts can be consolidated into one polling place, say for instance the Community Center.

A political calendar with precise information with regard to petition dates and the number of signatures required in order to be placed on the ballot will be issued by the Democratic Committee in the near future.

Globish and the Towering Inferno

2009-02-04T17:57:00.000-08:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, January 29 edition

I recently came across an alarming report from the BBC.

It discusses the chagrin of some cultures around the world, particularly the French, to see their languages relegated to second (or worse) class by English.

It seems the promiscuity of English and its quick embrace of any new word from any source, foreign or domestic, and its willingness to stretch its dictionary to accommodate the new inhabitant has made it the global language. Look how quickly English has waged jihad, googled you, emailed a friend, went viral, emoticoned, watched a krunk DVD, spammed a frenemy, well, you get it. A guy in Hooters drunk on seven appletinis is less likely than is English to be caught en flagrante with some new sweetie, er um, predicate or noun.

In the words of linguist James D Nicoll, "We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary."

Not all English's conquests, of course, are foreign; English will take any frumpy, old word and tummy-tuck and botox it until it emerges with a smashing new meaning. Witness 'text.' Some of us have texted or are texting so much that the world is suddenly populated with six billions cell phones. Whew! What text lives some of us have.

Apparently French, Spanish and Samoan are bashful, and therefore are just "walling it" while English waltzes around the world with a full dance card.

Any language so easily infatuated and used can expect to be quickly dissipated, and English is no exception. Great Britain and North America (excepting Quebec and Wall Street brokerages) might do their best to understand English, respect its nuances, cater to its tastes, yes, take it home to meet mother and love it tomorrow, but to the rest of the world English is just a tosspot picked up for a quick jolly and then pushed out the door before the light of glosnost.

And so English, full of macho and prancing with joie de vivre, lustily and blindly slouches toward… Globish!

Globish is the spare undergarment of English words and grammar that the world keeps after shucking the rest of English's suits, spats, gaiters and top hats, which are seen as too complicated to wear.

According to the BBC report, "Globish has only 1,500 words and users must avoid humor, metaphor, abbreviation and anything else that can cause cross-cultural confusion. [Globish speakers] must speak slowly and in short sentences… the late Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat [is] an excellent exponent [of Globish]."

So that's what he spoke! It gives you a perfect idea of where English has toddled off to, doesn't it. The language of the High Tea is now the diction used for global fatwahs, apparatchaks and bureaucratic diktats from Brussels.

Needless to say, Americans must fight Globish or we will lose our Mom and Apple Pie to hausfrau and sauerkraut. The best way to defeat Globish is to surfeit it with news words until it's just as fat as English and falls through the ice in some fjord and is never seen again. The Townsman reader is invited to join the effort I now begin with the following entries:

Collinize, vb. To populate an area of concern with the sterile aim to please everybody: "Collinizing the comprehensive plan ensured its extinction."

Morandize, v. To sup at a very mean table: "With so little wit, grace, intelligence or meaning for his company, he morandized and dreamed of better company."

RUPCO, v. To resurrect the belief in witches and warlocks: "Enough letters to the editor will certainly rupco the community."

Rosenblum, n. The futility of a minority: "Such was her status that even her motion to adjourn resulted in a rosenblum."

Simonsoninity, n. The blanket of platitudes used to cover but not warm the cold reality of a complete reversal of one's former position: "With perfect simonsoninity she led the led the charge to make sure Overlook would always have a 300 foot tower."

Wenken, v. To enfeeble, debilitate, undermine, sap, cripple, disable a moral principle with one's own moral turpitude: "The councilman's call for rectitude was wenkened by the financial shenanigans involved with his political campaign."

Wetlandish, adj. Of doubtful merit since there is a wetland within one hundred miles: "Building the doghouse in the back yard was considered a wetlandish proposal."

Zonism, n. The belief that the same law allowing one to do whatever he wants with his property also prevents the neighbor from doing anything he wants with his: "In a fit of zonism he drove from his 18,000 square feet mansion to the ZBA hearing to denounce his neighbor's wetlandish idea to build a doghouse."

Get the idea?

* * *

You can't make this stuff up: Councilwoman Liz Simonson complaining that Jeff Staley, the fellow who manages the Town's municipal tower on California Quarry, the tower that Simonson tried to foil every step of the way, even to the extent of conspiring with litigants against the Town to throw a monkey wrench into the project at the last moment, yes that Liz Simonson who now leads the charge to put a cell antenna on top of the three hundred foot tower on Overlook Mountain, complaining at the January 26 town board meeting that Jeff Staley won't return her phone calls.

Town Board Special Meetings, Jan 26 & 27

2009-02-04T17:52:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, January 29 edition

Woodstock, January 26 & 27

Councilwoman Liz Simonson's effort to expand cell phone service in Woodstock by permitting an antenna on the 300-foot tower on Overlook Mountain (the so-called RNN tower, although RNN no longer uses it for broadcasting a signal) was met with resistance at the special meeting of the Woodstock town board. As far as supervisor Jeff Moran is concerned, the town boards primary objective "is to get service to the areas of the town not currently served, "not to jump ahead based on non-professional opinion to "legalize" the RNN tower with merely a hope that it will produce the intended result.

Simonson, who had led the charge eleven years ago to craft an amendment to the zoning law that prohibits personal wireless (cell phone) service towers and antenna in certain areas of the town, including Overlook, admitted that her current position was a complete turn around. Aiding her new position was George ("Jerry") Washington, the retired IBMer, who in the past has given town boards Power Point presentations on matters ranging from traffic to buried fuel tanks. Washington provided a 21-page report to the town, which he claimed showed conclusively that the RNN tower would fill many gaps in cell service. Washington also claimed that as a "commercial pilot" he appreciated the red warning light that beams from the tower.

In a sharp turn around for Washington, his latest report indicates that the two-year old cell tower on California Quarry provided a "rich" signal for the business district and areas of the town east of the Bear Café. Washington in conjunction with Simonson and others had issued a report in 2004 that claimed the Quarry site would provide the hamlet business district with "limited in-building service." The fact that people can now make cell phone calls from the hamlet's basements perhaps is what cooled supervisor Moran to Washington's latest science.

Simonson, perhaps in anticipation of the town board's charging ahead with her proposal to permit a cell installation on the RNN tower, invited the Town's land-use attorney, Drayton Grant, to the meeting to help unravel the zoning knot Simonson had tied eleven years previous.

Not only does the current law prohibit cell towers on Overlook, according to a memo sent by Grant to the town board in 2008,the RNN tower "is no longer a legal non-conforming use." In 1984 the Woodstock Zoning Board of Appeals, in what was then an extremely controversial decision, granted utility status to the RNN tower because it would be a television broadcasting facility, a decision that permitted the tower's construction. The tower ceased broadcasting a television signal in 2004, but now supports several other radio antenna serving Ulster County 911, ham radio, New York State Electric and Gas, and a relay dish for RNN. Technically, the Town if it so wished could begin steps to see the tower dismantled, in the opinion of some.

That seems unlikely, especially since emergency response providers are using it. But it added enough confusion to the matter that Simonson at one point turned to Grant and asked her to "tell us where to go." Grant, careful to avoid making policy for the Town, responded, "Tell me the destination and I will figure out the route." She went on to advise the board that if it has a serious interest in preserving the tower that "maybe we should build a more secure legal foundation" for it, further stating that at present the tower stands in a "legal penumbra."

Grant's 2008 memo also advised, "First, the town board should investigate to make sure of the facts," before it goes through the legal expense of changing the zoning law to accommodate a cell service antenna on the tower. Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum thought it would be wise to see if adding height to the California Quarry tower might help expand service to any appreciable degree, an idea loathe to councilman Chris Collins, who recalled the bitter battle with the neighbors over that tower.

Ed Zellefrow, a qualified radio engineer visiting from the neighboring town of Olive, politely suggested to the town board that rather than depend on Washington's expertise that it contact carriers such as ATT and Verizon and have their professionals test the RNN tower site before making any decisions. That appears to be the direction the board will take, despite grumblings from Simonson that her attempts by phone and email to get contacts for those companies from Jeff Staley, the manager of Woodstock's municipal tower in California Quarry, have gone unanswered.

* * *

The January 27 special meeting of the town board to receive a status report from councilman Chris Collins on his three-year endeavor to enact a comprehensive plan for the Town of Woodstock made a desultory five-page progress into the 23-page document. Collins began the meeting by stating his hope for "tweaking without major surgery" the executive summary of the 160-page report written toward the end of 1999 and delivered to the town board after a three-year delay.

Previous town board members found the document too poorly written to attach their names to it. Although many of its recommendations had been enacted over the years, the document itself gathered dust. In 2005 Collins won a seat on the town board after identifying the un-adopted comprehensive plan as a major issue, and has labored over it since January 2006. In 2008 the town board unanimously decided to chuck the wordy tome, and adopt the more concise executive summary, but only after some tinkering. Even this severe curtailment has offered no fast track, as Collins admitted at the meeting to reviewing only its first ten pages.

On page three the board unanimously agreed to language concerning sustaining the "cultural and economic vitality of the community" by maintaining connections with "arts communities and entrepreneurs throughout the region," the idea being that such connection would bring more people to the town. Later in the discussion councilman Jay Wenk felt the plan should suggest the control of population, expressing his feeling that there were too many people around here. He offered no guidance for how that suggestion should read.

The meeting, which had begun at four-thirty, ended promptly at 6:00 PM so that the board could enter into an executive session to interview a candidate to replace Patrick Tripp on the Board of Assessment Review, and to discuss a "personnel matter pertaining to animal control."

A Lewis Carol

2009-01-29T17:50:00.000-08:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, January 22 edition

Last December an email from Woodstock Environmental Commission (WEC) member David Lewis was sent to Woodstock councilman Jay Wenk and copied to other members of the town board including the supervisor. Mr Lewis, you will recall, came up short at the 2005 and 2007 Democratic Party caucuses in bids for the party's nomination for town supervisor. His 2007 effort was aided by a $1000 contribution from a political committee, the so-called Committee For Woodstock's Future, which operated in contravention of New York State Election Law. The same committee had made a $1000 contribution to Jay Wenk, and this perhaps explains the fondness between these two fellows. Anyway, it appears Mr Lewis has lowered his sights, at least for the nonce.

From: "David Lewis"
Date: December 3, 2008 11:44:28 AM EST
To: jaywenk
Cc: "Elizabeth Simonson" , "Chris Collins" , "Jeff Moran" , "T. Rosenblum" brightrose22@yahoo.com

Subject: Head of the Environmental Commision

To all Town Board members,

I would like to apply for the head of the evironmental commision, since Mary will be leaving this position vacant this January. Please let me know of any materials that I will need to hand in to apply for this position.

thank you,
David Lewis

The above e-mail exhibits several of the dispositions surrounding Lewis, some charming and amusing, others not. It appears this junior member's haste to climb the WEC ladder caused him to fumble 'environmental' ('evironmental'), but commission spelled 'commision' not once but twice strongly suggests that among "any materials" he might "hand in" with an application to "head" the WEC should include a well-thumbed dictionary. But for heaven's sake, if I had been blasted for every spelling error I've made over the years, and continue to make, there would be nothing of me left, so "To all Town Board members" I recommend that each afford a forgiving smile. There are three board members, Jay Wenk in particular, who might recommend to Lewis the person who writes theirs and Michael Pacut's public pronouncements. Yes, truth and clarity would be maimed, but the 'commision' of embarrassments perhaps held to a minimum.

Of less charm and amusement, Mr Lewis's record of attendance to WEC meetings during his 2008 indicates that of the 19 meetings held that year he failed to attend five of them, was an hour and a half late for another, and at least for the first several weeks of 2008 left the meetings early in order to produce a public access television show. Look, we're all busy and Lewis's absences are entirely excusable, but an organization whose meetings we have failed to attend a little more than 25% of the time might prefer our reticence more than our offer of being its "head."

But of least charm and amusement surrounding Mr Lewis's offer to "head" the "eviromental commision" in the coming year was his explanation, "since Mary will be leaving this position vacant this January."

He is referring to Mary Burke, who has chaired (in case you are wondering what the proper term is) the WEC for several years, and had served on the WEC for years before that. If Burke had made up her mind by December 3, 2008 to leave "this position vacant this January," it makes her December 11, 2008 email to the town supervisor expressing interest in reappointment a very odd, indeed a baffling missive, and it makes her interview with the town board on January 12 in an executive session to discuss her application for reappointment a very odd, indeed baffling use of her time.

There can be only one explanation for why Lewis on December 3, 2008 expressed his certainty of Burke's non-reappointment, and anticipated the January 13, 2009 town board meeting that sacked her for Michael Veitch; at least three members of the town board had made Lewis such assurance. Which is fine. Town boards have the authority and the responsibility to staff the various boards with people in whom they have faith and trust. What is odious, what lacks charm, was the town board's decision to interview Burke for reappointment on January 12, 2009 when they already knew she was a goner. This was not only lack of respect for the time belonging to a woman who served our town for many, many years; it was clumsy and a crummy thing to do.

Nothing amusing about that.

* * *

By the time you read this Barack Obama will be our 44th president. Much has been made, as well it should have, of his African ancestry, for indeed our nation's history with regard to our black brothers and sisters would suggest how very unlikely the day would come when we would inaugurate a president with even a hint of African blood.

I count myself among those very proud to be an American. The pride has always been there, but today is especially strong.

President Obama, however, represents another important demographic; he is our first post-baby boom generation president. We have so far elected two baby boomers president, Bill Clinton and George W. Bush.

History has not yet had the time to make judgment on these two boomers. I think it is fair to guess that in the absence of a Constitutional bar Clinton probably would have won a third term, yes, even despite his randy behavior. It is just as fair to guess that given the choice today, Bush never would have seen the inside of the White House. Ever. Even so, history will judge.

One thing I am certain of is that a generation so gifted by the sacrifices of its parents, and one so willing to talk the talk of a better, more just world - and I am talking about the boomers - really made a hash of things, no matter what one thinks of the Clinton-Bush presidencies. The boomer generation is at the point of distinguishing itself as the first in America's history to hand to its children an America poorer than the one given them. I am a boomer and by no means excuse myself from culpability.

I don't know if I have ever hoped more for a man's success than I do President Obama's in his quest to restore our nation's finances and environment, our respect and prestige in the world, and our promise to our succeeding generations.

Should Obama make progress and be reelected, it will be this day in 2017 that the 45th president of the United States will be inaugurated. The oldest living boomer will be 72, the youngest 57. For the sake of my generation's redemption in history I hope 45 will be a boomer, and that he or she will follow through with fulfilling every generation's obligation to the next.

Woodstock Town Board Meeting, January 20, 2009

2009-01-29T17:48:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, January 22 edition

The issue of elected officials availing themselves of the medical insurance buy-out, first surfaced during the 2008 budget hearings, was resurrected by councilwoman Liz Simonson inviting labor relations consultant Michael Richardson to make a presentation to the town board on the matter. Although it has been a long-standing and uncontroversial policy to offer the buyout to employees of the Town, it has never been the case until the beginning of 2008 that elected officials, including at least two members of the town board, took the buyout, which ranges between $4000 to $5000 dollars per year.

The purpose of the buyout is to give employees an incentive to "migrate" away from the Town provided medical insurance plan, in most cases to a plan available to an employee's spouse. By giving the buyout the Town saves 50% on the cost of insuring the employee.

Richardson, who worked for the consulting company that wrote the Town's employee handbook, a document that describes the contractual obligations between the Town and its employees, stated that it had never been the intention to offer the buyout to elected officials, but added that the town board could make it a policy to do so if it wished. Of the twelve townships in Ulster County Richardson has worked with, he reported none offer elected officials the buyout (several townships don't offer their elected officials medical insurance at all). Richardson described himself as philosophically opposed to the idea, stating, "An elected official should not need an incentive to save the taxpayer money."

Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum volunteered to work with several Town employees and officials to make up a list of recommendations to the town board with regard to updating the handbook. The board expressed no position on the issue of the buyout.

Simonson also brought up the old issue of a contested sewer bill that had been re-levied on a property owner in the Hamlet sewer district, despite the owner's plea, which was backed up by a statement from the sewer superintendent, that the accidental discharge of water from a broken water pipe did not enter the sewer system. In the past the town boards have charged the full price for the water, but adjusted the sewer portion of the bill to reflect the average use over five previous billing periods. There ensued several minutes of discussion on the matter, it finally being discovered that the practice of adjusting sewer bills under such circumstances had been written into the local law governing the operation of the hamlet sewer district in 2007.

Resolutions saw unanimous acceptance of minutes for meetings held on December 16 and 30 2008, and January 6. The town clerk's report on monthly receipts, and payment of bills totaling $280,071.49 were also unanimously approved. Councilman Chris Collins abstained on the motion to accept monthly transfers, explaining he did not have time to study the sheet.

Officer Kevin Lane will replace Sergeant Greg Van de Bogart as the police department's detective supervisor.

Reports from the skate park and swimming pools task forces were held off until a future meeting.

Sub committee reports were fairly brief. With a meeting scheduled for 4:30 PM at the Town Offices on January 27 to discuss progress with the comprehensive plan, Collins said nothing on that matter. The Ulster County Winter Watch meeting for January had apparently been cancelled, so there was nothing to report on that. He expressed the opinion that if the board did its work with regard to pulling together documents and performing the required environmental review that the Comeau easement, which had been held up in litigation for five years, could be ready for signature by perhaps March or April of this year.

Simonson added up all of the Town's 2008's electric bills, finding a total of $105,000 including $27,000 spent at the sewage treatment plant and $17,000 at the highway garage, to indicate the progress she has made in her several year endeavor to make Woodstock sustainable. While decrying the high cost of powering the geothermal heating and cooling system for the new highway facility she did not mention the progress, if any with the project to install photo-voltaic panels at the site. The Town so far has spent $20,000 in apparatus and $5000 for a consultant for such installation. Next will be reports from Simonson on how much fuel the Town's buildings have consumed in 2008 and then the total fuel consumption of the Town's fleet of vehicles and heavy machinery. It is not clear why the Town bookkeeper can't produce spreadsheets with this information. Simonson's hope for extending cell phone service to the western areas of the town will be discussed at a town board meet scheduled for January 26 at 3:00 PM at the Town Offices, where land use attorney for the Town Drayton Grant will be present to discuss the status of the tower on Overlook Mountain. Simonson also reported that she was unable to find any consultants to help the Town with its cable television franchise renewal except for Sue Buske of the Buske Group. Buske will be providing the Town with proposed rates for her services.

Councilman Jay Wenk's effort to removed buried fuel tanks in the area of the Town wells is described in an eleven-page document not available yet to the public. It appears that he is working on crafting a local law to address the issue with the assistance of George ("Jerry") Washington. The document will be discussed at a future meeting before being forwarded to the attorney for the Town, Rod Futerfas.

The Woodstock recreation commission did not meet in January, so Rosenblum had no report on its latest initiatives. She did report, as liaison to the Library board, a wish that the Town consider creating space to archive art works and precious volumes that are in the Library's possession. There idea appeared to get little traction from the board.

At the next regularly scheduled meeting, February 10, supervisor Jeff Moran hopes to have a list of architects and their proposals for the town board to select from to move the proposal to relocate all Town offices currently located in the Town Hall and Comeal offices to the vacated Elna Ferrite building.

To quickly recap the immediate future meetings dates, the town board will meet Monday, January 26 at 3:00 PM to discuss the 300 foot tower on Overlook Mountain, which according to a memo sent to the Town by its land use attorney Drayton Grant is in violation of the zoning law. The following day, Tuesday January 27 the town board will meet at 4:30 to discuss the comprehensive plan.

Woodstock Town Board Meeting January 13, 2009, Part Two

2009-01-23T17:49:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, January 15 edition
(I apologize for the lack of proper sequence; part one is below after the Annual Townsman Quiz)

Woodstock, January 13, 2009

There were sharp disagreements at the public hearing that concerned the upcoming 2009 Farm Festival. Technically the hearing was to focus on a town board decision whether or not to close Maple Lane for eighteen Wednesdays from 2:00 to 10:00 PM from May until October to accommodate the Farm Festival, but comments from members of the public tended generally to express feelings about the Farm Festival per se.

Almost twenty people spoke on the matter, with fourteen expressing their strong support for another year of the event that attracted a number of venders of produce to set up at the Houst parking lot, coupled with entertainment and vending of other products on the adjacent Mower's field.

Robin Cramer, Misty Lucas and Matthew Ballister, each a shop owner in town, were critical of the Town "subsidizing" an event that had what they described a negative impact on their businesses.

Cramer asked the board to consider another location for the Festival, claiming event attendees take up available parking that makes it harder for people to shop at stores "that pay rent." She thought it highly unfair to give preference to an outside entity by letting them "cherry pick" the best time of the year for retail. When suggested by councilwoman Liz Simonson that the matter was a Chamber of Commerce issue, Cramer shot back, "I ripped up my membership. The Chamber does not represent me." She expressed her hope that the town board "will take local businesses into consideration."

Lucas presented a letter signed by a number of merchants pointing out that while the Town "subsidized" the Festival there were by her latest count 12 retailers that have gone out of business. She criticized the expenditure of $5000 in taxpayer dollars to pay for police traffic control. She also cited the parking as a problem. Speaking on behalf of businesses she concluded, "Forgive us if we are nervous about what is primarily a social event."

Ballister opened up his remarks by saying "The Festival is great, but not good for everybody." He reminded the board, "Last year the Festival was promoted as a benefit to everybody. It's not." Claiming as a resident taxpayer the event was costing him money to benefit venders that do not contribute to town organizations, such as little league baseball, he declared, "There is a really big wrong here. You can't bring another town into town once a week." He also pointed out the unfairness to businesses that had been forced to pay in-lieu-of-parking fees only to see those spaces taken up by Festival goers. Councilman Jay Wenk asked if he could come to Ballister's store and see the impact the Festival will have on his business. Showing some impatience Ballister reminded Wenk, "You were supposed to do that last year, remember?"

Barry Samuels, president of the Chamber of Commerce, defended the Festival. After expressing his support he suggested, "Let's try to solve the problems rather than it be either-or. Businesses should be proactive to attract business."

Other responses to the complaints by Cramer, Lucas and Ballister ranged from the suggestion by Dee Dee Halleck that Ballister should "set up a juice bar" at the Festival, to Peter Walther's declaration that "People have the right to use the streets and parking has always been a problem." Michael Veitch, Festival safety officer, announced that volunteers were being trained as traffic controllers and that the police service, and its attendant cost, would no longer be necessary.

Richard Goldman, attorney, landlord of four businesses (one recently shuttered), and officer of the Farm Festival, spoke of a "Good, productive first year." He thought that the "Petitioners should have come to us. We are all on the same side." He said the Farm Festival organization was actively thinking up strategies to get Festival goers into the local shops. "We need input from the businesses." He specifically invited Cramer, Lucas and Ballister to "sit down and work collectively on the issues."

The hearing was closed an hour after it had begun.

Annual Townsman Quiz

2009-01-22T15:02:00.000-08:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, January 15 edition
This blog will be updated January 29

It's now time for the Annual Townsman Quiz. The respondent who correctly answers the following questions will receive membership on the Woodstock Ethics Board, although a prize of less certainty is not known to exist. Ready for fun? Here we go!

1) How long before the Woodstock town board adopts a resolution pertaining to world or national issues not in their purview, for instance a resolution calling upon President Obama to withdraw our troops from Afghanistan or calling upon Israel to stop defending herself?
a)When Ed Sanders says it's time.
b)Three months before the local Democratic caucus.
c)Two months before the local Democratic caucus.
d)One month before the local Democratic caucus.

2) After more than three years of deliberation, when will councilman Chris Collins present a proposed comprehensive plan?
a)He won't; the evil town supervisor will fire bomb his house first.
b)Three months before the local Democratic caucus.
c)Two months before the local Democratic caucus.
d)One month before the local Democratic caucus.

3) Councilwoman Liz Simonson will finish entering the Town's energy consumption data into the Clean Air and Climate Protection (CACP) software provided her last spring
a)When hell freezes over.
b)Three months before the local Democratic caucus.
c)Two months before the local Democratic caucus.
d)One month before the local Democratic caucus.

BONUS QUESTION:
The press will report Councilwoman Liz Simonson's completion of entering the Town's energy consumption data into the Clean Air and Climate Protection (CACP) software provided her last spring in a
a)10 point headline.
b)20 point headline.
c)40 point headline.
d)60 point headline.

4) Councilman Jay Wenk will stand up during the pledge of allegiance when
a)The Karmapa apologizes for KTD, levels the monastery and renovates the Meads Mountain House into a state-of-the-art Wenk Museum and Archive.
b)President Obama declares Jay Wenk's birthday a national holiday.
c)Congress admits Wenk as the fifty-first state.
d)He can.

5) Watching councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum on the town board is like watching someone
a)Shovel **** against the wind.
b)Spit against the wind.
c)Blowing in the wind.
d)On a long and winding road.

6) Supervisor Jeff Moran will see his proposal to examine the feasibility of using the Elna-Ferrite building for municipal offices when
a)Hell freezes over.
b)Simonson completes entering the Town's energy consumption data into the Clean Air and Climate Protection (CACP) software provided her last spring.
c)Congress admits Wenk as the fifty-first state.
d)**** happens.

7) In the coming year most town board meetings will end around
a)10:00 PM.
b)11:00 PM.
c)12:00 AM.
d)Zzzzzz.

8) A motion to adjourn a town board meeting means
a)It's time for three members to sneak in a resolution not on the agenda.
b)Trouble for ethics board members.
c)The sun is coming up.
d)All the above.

9) The proposed RUPCO affordable housing project behind Bradley Meadows will
a)Go up in flames.
b)Go down in flames.
c)Burn down the town.
d)Burn up the town.

10) Old buried fuel tanks in the aquifer area will be removed after
a)There is cell phone service in the western end of town.
e)Simonson completes entering the Town's energy consumption data into the Clean Air and Climate Protection (CACP) software.
b)Collins presents a proposed comprehensive plan.
c)The next ice age.

11) In the coming year the flashing red light on top of the three hundred foot tower on the top of Overlook Mountain will signify
a)A potential site for a cell phone antenna.
b)A violation of the zoning law.
c)Area 51 is relocated to Woodstock.
d)Jay Wenk's ego.

12) The Committee For Woodstock's Future will identify its officers
a)When David Lewis, Craig Barber and Jay Wenk realize they took money from a political entity not in compliance with New York State Election Law and insist on it.
b)One month after the next local Democratic caucus.
c)Two months after the next Democratic caucus
d)When there is cell service in the western end of town.

So that's it! Mail in your entry not forgetting to include your address. Winning contestants will be notified on April Fools Day.

ADDENDUM: I had reported last week that the Town switched its account from Bank of America (BOA) to TD North "pursuant to a complaint loudly publicized last month against Bank of America by Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich and echoed by councilwoman Liz Simonson. " Simonson did indeed at the December 16 meeting of the town board echo the governor's complaint that Bank of America was treating a local company unfairly, but according to a letter received from councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum, "the transfer of funds from BOA to TD North had nothing to do with Liz's objection to what BOA did to some company out west. Pam [the Town's bookkeeper] and I had been talking with TD North for many, many months before Liz's statement and the clincher for switching was that BOA was charging our employees who did not have a BOA account $8 to cash their paycheck."

Needless to say I owe the governor of Illinois an apology.

Woodstock Town Board Meeting, January 13, 2009

2009-01-22T14:58:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, January 15 edition

The Woodstock town board's public hearing on a proposed franchise renewal with Time-Warner cable company seemed to be headed toward a repeat of the much heard concern that the agreement didn't provide enough funding for the public access studio, but then collided into the concerns of a cohort from upper Mink Hollow Road decrying the lack of cable service to that area.

The hearing began with Richard Spool, long time public access channel volunteer, appealing for a better facility, claiming it was necessary to attract more users, particularly youth. His comments were echoed by Russel Richarson, director of the Onteora School District Indy Program, who said he would like to see a speedy resolution so that the new educational channel, which will soon broadcast into the school district municipalities of Hurley, Olive and Shandaken, will also be seen in Woodstock. Time Warner has stated that it will not send the signal into Woodstock without first a signed renewal. Dee Dee Halleck, public access television activist, praised the efforts put into the studio by volunteers, but still found the facility lacking. Ellen Povill, also a station volunteer, urged the board not to rush into an agreement, hoping that further negotiations will result in the Town getting a better studio. There were some calls for an audit of Time Warner's books to ensure the Town had been receiving all the franchise fees it is entitled to. Station volunteer Gordon Wemp advised the board to "Be specific about what you want. Time Warner is not holding us hostage; we are holding ourselves hostage. Get on with it."

David Nelson Epstein, an Onteroa teacher who has been active with video arts programs for youth, asked the board to resolve the issue quickly so that students could have their productions seen in Woodstock. "It is not the eleventh hour, it is now the fourteenth hour."

The discussion took a dramatic detour when Mink Hollow Road resident Bill Dubilier complained "We desperately want cable," and insisted on an agreement that would bring service to his remote location. Federal law mandates cable service to areas where at least 35 potential hook-ups exist. The proposed agreement under consideration reduces that number to 20, but it is unclear if that would qualify sparsely populated upper Mink Hollow Road for service. Other areas in the town not served include upper Hutchin Hill Road, West Saugerties Road, upper Silver Hollow Road and the Shady side of Meads Mountain Road.

After hearing Dubilier's passionate plea councilwoman Liz Simonson, who has served on the town board for eleven years, and councilman Jay Wenk became militant, Simonson saying, "We should be tough negotiators and demand service for the whole town." Wenk went so far to say, "We must hold their [Time Warner] feet to the fire and defy the law as much as we can."

Supervisor Jeff Moran expressed his opinion that asking for service extension may be more important than seeking public access funding. Simonson at first appeared to agree, but then quickly added that public access television was also important as was auditing Time Warner. The hearing was recessed after the board seemed to agree that consultant services would probably be necessary. No time line was offered and it is unclear how long it will be before Woodstock receives the educational channel broadcast from Onteora.

The public portion of the town board meeting had begun at 7:40 PM, when long time resident and volunteer fireman Jim Hansen was recognized during the public-be-heard segment. Hansen presented the board with a petition signed by 96 residents (he claimed two more petitions were also circulated but not in his hand) calling upon the town board to "do everything possible to assure Ametek [former Rotron] that it is welcome in the community." Hansen was reacting to a discussion entertained by the town board several weeks ago that had given a public platform to several individuals unhappy that some components manufactured by Ametek are used in military equipment. Their hope had been that the town board would pressure Ametek to reconsider its business plan. "To give Rotron [Ametek] a hard time at a time like this is ridiculous," said Hansen, citing the number of jobs (estimated at around 400) provided by the company and also the fact that Ametek staffs and operates the town's emergency medical response team during its working hours. "We are advised to think globally and act locally," said Hansen. "The operative word is 'think.'" Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum in a letter to the editor had already distanced herself from the proposal to pressure Ametek.

In other business, David Gross was reappointed to the Woodstock Environmental Commission, with councilman Chris Collins abstaining in the vote. Ann Brandt was reappointed by a unanimous vote. Long time member and chairperson Mary Burke was denied reappointment in favor of Michael Veitch, with councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum voting nay. A new chair was not appointed. Jim Dougherty, Joan Krotenberg and Toby Heilbruhn were appointed to the ethics board, replacing the two members that had been unceremoniously dumped, and Terri Reynolds who apparently failed in her bid for re-appointment.

By a unanimous vote the Town of Woodstock will not honor the County's request to be a co-applicant in support of a Local Government Efficiency Grant Program, intended to "support the purchase and installation of an Automatic Vehicle Location System (AVL)" in all municipal and county vehicles. Moran expressed continuing dissatisfaction with the County's handling of the take over of the elections process, which had added a considerable expense to the Town's election budget. In an amusing side bar, considering that Simonson has been working several years on a project to "green" the Town's fleet of vehicles, she "guessed" the number of Town-owned to be around 25. The Town fleet consists of 41 vehicles.

A meeting was scheduled for Monday, January 26 at 3:00 PM to discuss with the Town's land use attorney Drayton Grant the process for "legitimizing" the three hundred foot tower on top of Overlook Mountain. The tower lost its utility status, and therefore its exemption from the zoning prohibition, when it ceased broadcasting a television signal. "We got a tower that ain't coming down," averred Simonson, who hopes that legalizing the tower will entice cell phone service providers to the facility and send a signal to the western areas of the township not currently served. Simonson said obstructing cell service installation on the tower was the zoning revision in 2005, prohibiting such array in elevations 1200 feet above sea level (the tower in question is approximately 3000 feet above sea level), forgetting that her amendment to the zoning law in 1998 prohibited such array in zoning districts designated R-8, which was and is the designation of the tower's parcel. There is no study confirming that the tower would provide service of any significance to the western areas of the town, except for a report submitted by the tower owner.

On Tuesday, January 27 at 4:30 PM at the Town Offices there will be discussion on councilman Chris Collins' progress with the comprehensive plan.

The next regularly scheduled meeting of the town board will be on January 20.

Cable Fantasies

2009-01-15T15:08:00.000-08:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, January 8 edition.

My reporting in the December 24 edition on the cable tv franchise renewal with Time-Warner apparently struck a nerve in Woodstock resident Dee Dee Halleck, who has graced the area's editors with her riposte to "several confused and incorrect statements" and a recommendation that "instead of accomodating to [sic] Time Warner's shoddy deal, Woodstock should sue the company for attempting to hold our citizens hostage by denying the long required educational channel until the proposed franchise is signed."

That's enough to fill the rest of the decade, but Ms Halleck is not easily surfeited:

"In terms of finding a town to make a comparable assessment, I suggest you visit the facility in Falmouth, Massachusetts (http://www.fctv.org) either in person or via their web site. Falmouth Community TV has a slightly larger subscriber base, but they also have an expanded summer population that is quite similar to Woodstock."

I visited the town of Falmouth and the Falmouth public access web sites, and even spoke with a Victoria (508 457 0800) at the studio.

This is a portrait of Falmouth:

Total area 54.4 sq mi (141.0 km2)
Population (2000) 32,660
Assessed value $11,400,000,000 (Eleven billion plus)
Estimated median household income in 2007: $44,797
Estimated median house or condo value in 2007: $492,649

This is a portrait of Woodstock:

Total area 67.9 sq mi (141.0 km2)
Population (2000) 6,241
Assessed value $1,280,000,000 (One billion plus)
Estimated median household income in 2007: $49,217
Estimated median house or condo value in 2007: $369,000

So Ms Halleck is slightly close; Falmouth is only five times more populated and only ten times wealthier. At least we beat them area-wise and with the median household income.

But what I learned at the Falmouth public access tv web site and in speaking with Victoria is more illuminating.

According to Ms Halleck, "They [Falmouth] negotiated with their cable corporation for funds to build an entire building specifically designed for their needs. Their comfortable studios and meeting rooms also provide a gallery space for local artists. They have seven paid staff and a crew of volunteers. Falmouth Community TV Director Debbie Rogers 508-457-0800 could answer any questions you might have about their procedures and discuss their own quite successful 'tough' negotiations."

According to the website and Victoria, users ("members") of the station pay $30.00 annually for the privilege (family rate available), sponsors (area businesses) kick in a tidy sum, and the rest, according to Victoria, comes from a 3% franchise fee. Using rough calculation, if Falmouth has five times the number of subscribers than Woodstock and grossed $10,000,000, the 3% franchise fee amounts to $300,000.

Not to bore you, but this is what I reported December 24 regarding franchise fees:

"Municipalities may impose a franchise fee of up to 5% of the company's gross revenue, which Woodstock has since at least 1986. The cable subscriber pays the fee in his or her monthly payment to the company, which then remits the sum to the Town on a quarterly basis. Last year Woodstock's general fund received $110,000 from the cable subscribers."

I'll repeat it for the hard of hearing: The cable subscriber pays the fee in his or her monthly payment to the company…

To put it another way, the check may come from the cable company office, but the money comes from the subscriber's pocket.

One does not have to enter into a "tough" negotiation to obtain the blessing of 3% of your cable bill going to support public access ($64,000). Time-Warner would happily agree to a provision that does not affect their bottom line one iota. Woodstock can require that 3% of your cable bill go to public access, just as Falmouth has, and budget the remaining 2% to the Town to sweep streets, plow roads and empty the trash. The Town would merely have to raise $64,000 in taxes to maintain its level of services.

Ms Halleck suggests "instead of incriminating the efforts of citizens to uphold those regulations" the newspaper (me) should talk to the folks that operate our public access channel. I have. It was my initiative that ended the stupidity of town board appointed committees to oversee the studio, which then permitted those who care the most to run the station. They have done an outstanding job, and among the letters of gratitude I wrote before leaving office December 31 2007 were one to each of them. How lamentable that Ms. Halleck should not have received one for all she has said, if for the little she has done for the station's day-to-day operations.

"There has been no official audit of the Time Warner revenue reports, something suggested as a regular procedure by the cable consultants," says Ms Halleck. She is either comical or sly, for if you carefully parse her sentence it's meaning is contrary to what I believe she means, which is, Time-Warner's revenue reports should be audited. Well, audits cost at least a few thousand dollars, and according to councilwoman Liz Simonson, the last time (1999) the Town paid for one it turned out that Time-Warner's accounting was practically to the dime.

But Time-Warner, you see, is very, very evil. It is apparently a company that wants to make money. To my December 24 report, "Time-Warner installed a complete fiber-optic system replacing the old co-axial cable, making Woodstock in 2001 one of the first communities in Ulster County to have access to high speed internet by cable, Ms Halleck shoots right back, "Time Warner installed this to reap the lucrative fees that have made Woodstock one of the most profitable areas with a similar population." This is another odd sentence, which I will leave for you to parse, but I think I get it; we were duped.

A consultant that Ms Halleck highly touts apparently recently negotiated a franchise renewal for a Healdsburg CA that "requires their cable provider to rebuild their fiber/coax to 750+ Mhz at the time of renewal." Woodstock's upgraded 750+ Mhz fiber optic system was completed by 2001. It cost the Town a letter of thanks from their supervisor.

Ms Halleck's dissertation on the evolvement of the educational channel spawned by the Onteora school district is so hot and gristly I'm afraid to stick my fork in it. Let her show us the letters and documents substantiating her meaty contentions.

In fact, if Ms Halleck would show the Town ONE, JUST ONE of these legendary, signed franchise agreements that gifts public access stations in municipalities our size (and wealth) with hundreds of thousands of dollars of free money from the greedy cable companies (and not the subscribers), JUST ONE, I would insist in this space that Woodstock accept no less.

Ms Halleck is apparently a reader, and I will keep you updated.

Woodstock Town Board, January 6

2009-01-15T15:06:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, January 8 edition

The annual organizational meeting of the Woodstock town board began with the announcement that receivers of water/sewer bills had been inadvertently overcharged, and that rate payers may either ask for a corrected bill, or if they make a payment then receive a credit toward their next bill due in late March. Higher rates, which had been scheduled for 2009, were mistakenly used to calculate the billing for the period beginning last September and ending November 30. The new rate became effective December 31, 2008. With that out of the way the board plunged into business that was completed in an hour and fifteen minutes.

The Townsman and the Woodstock Times again were designated the Town's official newspapers, meaning that legal notices of the Town will continue to be posted in both.

Pursuant to a complaint loudly publicized last month against Bank of America by Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich and echoed by councilwoman Liz Simonson, Town moneys will be moved from that bank to TD BankNorth.

Several boilerplate resolutions were unanimously adopted, but one of the most routine of all, mileage reimbursement for use of private vehicles to conduct Town business lost Simonson's vote. She felt that the drop in gas prices made the 55 cents a mile too generous, and was not swayed by the argument that wear-and-tear on a vehicle should also be factors to consider.

Rules of Procedure adopted July 8, 2008 remain applicable for the year 2009.

Richard Heppner was appointed to another year as town historian, and will also serve on the Commission for Civic Design.

Tony Padalino was reappointed to the ZBA, his term to expire on 12/31/13. Howard Harris will remain as chairman.

The resolution to reappoint Teri Reynolds to the ethics board (EB) caused a severe hic cup. Since the summary dismissal of two members last December, Fran Breitkoph and Alison West, and with the December 31 expiration of Ms Reynolds' term the board now has only two sitting members. There are four applicants for the three vacant seats. Councilman Chris Collins, claiming that "very cloudy issues came up about the ethics board," and that the Reynolds appointment "could affect or exacerbate…conflicts within the ethics board," held out and finally prevailed in delaying any appointments until all the applicants had first been interviewed. There was considerable re-hashing of the sudden action on the part of Collins, Simonson and Jay Wenk that dismembered the EB last December, the tone of which could not auger hopes for a congenial town board in the coming year. Collins' foreboding was apparently based on a "minority report" sent to the town board from EB member Laurie Rosenberg. A Freedom of Information request was made for such letter.

Using the same logic, Mary Burke's reappointment to the environmental commission was also delayed until applicants could be interviewed for her vacant seat.

There were apparently no applicants for the vacant planning board seat, and Paul Shultis, Jr. was reappointed unanimously, his term to expire 12/31/15. Simonson had voted no when Shultis was first been appointed in 2002.

Mark Peritz will chair the planning board for the coming year.

The services of attorneys Rod Futerfas and Drayton Grant were retained at a rate of $150.00 per hour for the year 2009.

The Catskill Center for Photography, Maverick Concerts, Performing Arts of Woodstock, the Woodstock Artists Association & Museum, Woodstock Arts Board, the Woodstock Chamber Orchestra, the Woodstock Historical Society, the Woodstock School of Art, the Woodstock Guild, Ars Choralis, and the Woodstock Poetry Society will each receive $200 from the Town. The organizations use the donation as proof of the community's support when seeking grants.

A very clumsily produced resolution made in the supervisor's absence at the December 30 year-end meeting that parked in a repair reserve the $186,600.00 received from sale of the California Quarry parcel to the Open Space Institute, which had been no one's intention, was rectified by the supervisor who persuaded all but Simonson to put it into a buildings reserve for the capital upgrade to town buildings. The former resolution was unanimously rescinded.

$12,000 was restored to the landfill repair reserve as established February 12, 2002. The remaining $30,000 had been appropriated last November to offset the 2009 tax levy.

Town board subcommittees were established.

Supervisor Jeff Moran will head the infrastructure subcommittee to oversee the proposed improvements to the Woodstock Town Hall. Moran will also liaise with the Woodstock Chamber of Commerce and Arts.

Councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum will liaise with members of the recreation commission, summer recreation program, library board and police department.

Councilman Chris Collins will continue to advise on the proposed comprehensive plan, the proposed wellhead protection overlay district amendment, the proposed wetland and watercourse amendment, and he will liaise with "the arts."

Councilwoman Liz Simonson continues on subcommittees to research alternatives to Town vehicles that contribute to green house gasses and global warming, to propose means and methods for replacement of polluting vehicles with 'greener' vehicles, to audit energy use of Town buildings, and to continue her endeavor to bring cell phone service to the western areas of the town.

Councilman Jay Wenk will continue to recommend courses of action to address the potential danger of buried fuel tanks, particularly in the area over the town aquifer, and liaise with the seniors.

The Town's lengthy procurement policy was re-established.

Supervisor Moran's appointment of councilwoman Terrie Rosenblum as deputy supervisor for all the year 2009 (there had been an understanding that each councilperson would serve in the role for six months, Simonson and Collins already having served their terms in 2008 and Rosenblum and Wenk expected to share 2009) was considered by Collins to be an "insult to Jay [Wenk]" and elicited Wenk's declaration, "I take offense," and on that note the meeting adjourned.

Book Of The Year

2009-01-08T05:51:00.000-08:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, December 31 edition.

For our community that went overwhelmingly for Barack Obama there is much to look forward to beginning January 20, Reverend Rick Warren not withstanding. But for many of us, even those not victimized by Bernie Madoff or a mortgage broker, 2009 is not going to be an easy row to hoe. Markets plummeting with our retirement portfolios, unemployment rising with our blood pressure, and prospects looking flat as this year's holiday sales all paint a grim picture of the coming year.

So what good fortune it was to stumble over The War-Time Guide Book For The Home, a 1942 publication by the Popular Science Publishing Company. I think this volume came into my possession after cleaning out a great aunt's basement thirty years ago, and has sat in mine all this time.

While reading through the Guide it is obvious not only the shortages caused by the WW II effort, but also the privations caused by the Great Depression made this a handy compendium for do-it-yourselfism, and who knows, the day soon may be upon us when we have to make our own laundry soap, fix our own rotted window sashes, or make up our own "rodent paste" (ycch!).

Directions for "blackout protection" may seem a little quaint, but I suppose the same technique used to stop light from getting out the windows could be used to stop heat, too, and make us all more fuel efficient.

Speaking of blackouts, how about a recipe for ginger wine? It's here:
Sugar, 9 lb
Whole bruised ginger, 4 oz
Raisins, 7 oz
Lemons cut and sliced, 4
Water, 3 gal
Heat all but lemons. Cool and add lemons and then yeast.

Mmm, can't wait.

What the heck was going on in 1942 here on the home front that we needed to fireproof clothing? Dunno, but there are directions on page 29 (warning: suitable for white clothing only). Maybe it was for town board members, for knowing Woodstock I'm sure somebody was furious at them in 1942 for allowing Rotron to make war parts that injured Germans.

Little pomade for the hair? Page 63 (Hint: lots of Vaseline).

A little section called Food In The Woods begins with:

"By foraging through the woods in the summertime, a substantial amount of huckleberries, wild blackberries, strawberries, and raspberries may be gathered. Acorns and hickory nuts also can be found available without much trouble. A piece of fresh sassafras root, sliced into boiling water, will make an excellent tea." It goes on to mention, "Although most of the vegetation dies in the winter, clumps of wintergreen may be found in swampy country. By looking in tree hollows, it is often possible to find a wide variety of nuts stored there by an ambitious squirrel. The lowly cat-tail…"

I think you get the picture. But doesn't it amaze you to consider that just 66 years ago the idea of looking in tree hollows for "a wide variety of nuts" was a serious recommendation? I have no idea what that generation did with wintergreen, and I won't bother reporting to you what one can make with the "lowly cat tail," but my guess is the biggest Wal-Mart hater in the world would probably swallow his pride and shop there before doing it.

I am glad I found this guide; it tells me of the bone and sinew that made up our parents and grandparents as they lived through an era a lot scarier than the one we live in now, and if not scarier certainly less gourmandizing (Acorns? Ginger wine?). It tells me that as grim as it gets we will somehow manage. After all, they did.

Town Board 2009 Dreams

2009-01-08T05:50:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, December 31 edition.

With 2008 behind them members of the Woodstock town board hope 2009 will see the completion of their respective projects, some of which have spanned years.

Among the oldest of the endeavors, dating back to January 2006 is councilwoman Liz Simonson's self-appointed task "to research alternatives to Town vehicles that contribute to green house gasses and global warming, and to propose means and methods for replacement of polluting vehicles with 'greener' vehicles." In the three years since the Town has purchased more than half a million dollars in trucks and cars, all similar to the vehicles purchased in the past.

In the last year Simonson has shared responsibility for improving parking on the upper Comeau, the present situation described by many parents of soccer kids as very dangerous. She has recently been told expanding the parking will require a variance from the Zoning Board of Appeals, since the area is not zoned for parking. "I can see that this is going to take a long time," says Simonson. Variances can be granted in less than a month's time from date of application.

In addition to the so-called "green fleet" project, Simonson in 2007 encouraged the town board to join ICLEI (once acronym for the International Council for Local Environmental Initiatives, but now calling itself Local Governments for Sustainability), a membership association of local governments committed to advancing climate protection and sustainable development. After unsuccessful attempts, reported at several town board meetings, in late summer Simonson was at last able to download ICLEI produced Clean Air and Climate Protection (CACP) software, an application that will help the Town:
_Create emissions inventories for the community as a whole or for the government's internal operations.
_Quantify the effect of existing and proposed emissions reduction measures.
_Predict future emissions levels.
_Set reduction targets and track progress towards meeting those goals.
Simonson on December 16 reported continuing to enter data, a process she described as "a very hard job," not helped by losing the aid of a high school student who originally had signed on to assist.

Simonson has also vowed since the beginning of 2007 to bring cellular phone service to the western areas of Woodstock. Despite having what she described as a productive conversation with C. Powers Taylor, owner of the three hundred foot high tower that beams a red warning light from atop Overlook Mountain, there has been no further word on a scheme to hang an array on the tower, except to announce that interest in the site by NEXTEL, a wireless service provider, has apparently dried up.

Simonson also had announced earlier this year her intention to tweak the zoning law to make some sandwich boards legal, this after the Town in 2007 had begun and then after her insistence abandoned cracking down on the illegal postings.

Councilman Chris Collins since joining the town board in 2006 has been the point person for developing policies with respect to land use. His major area of concern has been updating the Town's comprehensive plan, a document meant to articulate the development goals of the community and guide land use decisions for the next ten to twenty years. He has been working with a thick draft document dating back to 1999. Despite Simonson's observation earlier this year that the draft document was dated and that perhaps it was time to start all over, Collins has soldiered on. He now proposes treating an executive summary of the cumbersome draft as the comprehensive plan document. A date for another discussion on the matter has been tentatively set for January 12.

Collins, with Simonson's help, is also seeking to amend the zoning law by adding a provision regulating development near wetlands, watercourses and water bodies. An initial 28-page proposal was heavily critiqued at a public hearing held earlier this year, and a revised document will be discussed on February 10.

Although the town board adopted in 2007 an amendment creating an aquifer protection area surrounding the municipal wells, the law was never filed and therefore never entered into the code. The status of this regulation remains unclear and lately not discussed.

Councilman Jay Wenk will continue to labor with his endeavor to remove buried oil tanks in the area of the aquifer that feeds the municipal wells. At the board's December 16 meeting he reported that the idea of converting residences using oil to propane ran up against the unfortunate fact that most of the residences have their furnaces located in the center of their abodes, and that the fuel lines come through the poured concrete slabs. Altering these lines for replacement furnaces "will be more costly than I had thought." A similar report was made to the town board in 2002.

Wenk was more successful in getting the board to reiterate a "no idling" resolution that he had authored during his first term as councilman (1990-1993). The resolution encourages motorists not to idle their engines more than a few minutes, and is entirely voluntary.

Wenk, on record as declaring "there is absolutely no question that some of our employees and departments are working in unsafe and dangerously crowded conditions," has vowed "to avoid past mistakes and oversights" in getting the matter "resolved by the present [town] board." He says he will rely on new consultants for this endeavor, having decided after a year that he didn't have confidence in the current one.

Wenk also opposes the use of five-pointed stars on Town winter holiday decorations, claiming they have religious significance, but has not yet disclosed what he proposes to put in their place.

Terrie Rosenblum completes her first year on the town board, serving as liaison to the Woodstock Library and the recreation commission. Among her endeavors for the coming year is to refine the Town's website so as to be better used as a sounding board for citizens concerns, ideas, and comments. Also, picking up on a refrain heard in this year's unusually well attended fire commissioners vote, she wants to find "new and exciting innovations that will make room for more of our talented citizens to participate in volunteering for town projects. For example: expanding our performance and public spaces, especially if we are successful in consolidating the needs of the towns departments."

Rosenblum, perhaps with a nod to the cuts and bruises from serving on a board that has seen its share of contention, says, "I have the honor of serving on the Town Board because of the people who believe in me, and who I never want to let down…and am equally aware that not everyone voted for me, and that I have the responsibility to hear, consider and dialog with those who think or behave differently than I do." She also promises to "continue to strive to be the kind of person my dog thinks I am."

Supervisor Jeff Moran, also completing his first year in public office, is on vacation and could not be reached for this article. In other venues, however, he acknowledged the challenge of shepherding taxpayers' dollars and maintaining municipal services while the Town sails into what could be an economic storm.

The annual organization meeting of the town board is scheduled for January 6 at 7:30 PM at the Community Center, where the above endeavors will begin to take shape.

Is there a comprehensive plan?

2008-12-31T13:53:00.000-08:00

This opinion piece appeared in the Townsman, December 24 edition.

We take pleasure in answering at once and thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Townsman:

DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no comprehensive plan for Woodstock. Papa says, 'If you see it in THE TOWNSMAN it's so. Please tell me the truth; is there a comprehensive plan?

[Signed] VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
115 Fairy Rainbow Lane

DEAR VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong and frankly a bit naive. They have been affected by the cynicism of a cynical age, or just too many veggie burgers. They do not believe except what they read in the letters section of a local paper. They think that nothing can be which is not downloaded from FaceBook or the town website. All minds, Virginia, whether they be geezers's or children's, are conflicted. In this great town of ours man is a mere NIMBY, a small activist in his classified 210 residential, as compared with the boundless, unsubdivided world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole real estate potential of our community.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a comprehensive plan. It exists as certainly as rules concerning land use and planning board fees exist, and you know that they abound in Woodstock and give to your life its quality of life, conservation easements and open space. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no comprehensive plan. It would be as dreary as if there were no future property taxpayers named VIRGINIA. There would be no regulations then, no SEQRA, no ZBA variances to make tolerable this existence. We would never have environmental impact statements stuffing the Town's files or judges' chambers. The eternal meetings and public hearings and zoning laws which fills Woodstock would be extinguished.

Not believe in a comprehensive plan! You might as well not believe in cell service for the western end of town! You might get your papa to hire men to watch all the channel 23 broadcasts to catch the Woodstock town board's land use subcommittee discuss ad nauseam the comprehensive plan, but even if they did not see the Woodstock town board's land use subcommittee stagger into its fourth year no closer to a finished document than you are to turning eighty years old, what would that prove? Nobody really looks at comprehensive plans except lawyers, planners and developers, but that is no sign that there is no comprehensive plan. The biggest bites in the neck in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see aquifer protection or a practical buried fuel tank report? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there, at least in an executive summary. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders in the world that idle for more than five minutes, although some members of the town board sure try.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world, which not the strongest zoning code enforcement officer, nor even the united strength of all the strongest zoning code enforcement officers that ever lived, could tear apart. Only attorneys, litigious terms, subsections of the law, violation notices, subpoenas, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No comprehensive plan! Thank goodness! it drags on and on, and it will drag on forever with DRAFT DOCUMENT blazoned across its cover page. A thousand meetings from now, VIRGINIA, nay, ten times ten thousand meetings from now, it will continue to keep the glad hearts of Woodstock town board land use subcommittee members awake past midnight.

With apologies to Francis Pharcellus Church.

Cable Franchise

2008-12-31T13:52:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, December 24 edition

Woodstock, December 16, 2008

With little else settled at its December 16 meeting, the Woodstock town board staked an aggressive agenda for the coming winter months, scheduling a public hearing on January 16 on the renewal of the cable franchise agreement with Time-Warner cable company, and re-opening the public hearing February 10 on the proposed amendment to the zoning law regulating development near wetlands, water courses and water bodies. There will also be a special meeting on either January 5 or 12 for a discussion concerning the update to the town's comprehensive plan. The year-end meeting is scheduled for December 30 at 5:00 pm at the Town Offices, and annual organizational meeting is scheduled for January 6.

Woodstock has been without an updated cable franchise agreement since 1996, when the ten-year agreement that had been signed in 1986 expired. Since then the cable franchise has been automatically renewed annually with the 1986 provisions stipulated to. The cable television industry has expanded services considerably in this time to include internet and telephone services, pay-for-view sales and music services, to list just some of the many additions.

The 23 page proposed renewal is 90% boilerplate, describing the company's obligation with respect to transparent billing, accessibility for hearing complaints, time periods to address complaints and service installations, refunds for lapsed service, liability, construction standards and myriad other matters, most of which are mandated by the Federal Communications Act of 1996 and/or New York State regulations. While the franchise is not exclusive, it does contain a provision requiring the Town to not grant a franchise to other companies with more lenient terms.

Most pertinent to Woodstock are provisions relating to extension of service area, franchise fee (which hinges on the definition for "gross revenue"), and the public and education access channels.

In 1998 the town board hired Washington DC consulting company Rice-Williams, which substantially created the document under consideration. Although presented to the public two or three times earlier this decade and tweaked here and there it was never adopted.

Despite the limbo, Time-Warner installed a complete fiber-optic system replacing the old co-axial cable, making Woodstock in 2001 one of the first communities in Ulster County to have access to high speed internet by cable. Also, areas of the town, including Riverby, Vincenses Lane, the area around Yankeetown Pond and other pockets saw service extended to them.

Cable companies, by federal law, must extend service to areas that contain a minimum of 35 potential hook-ups per mile. The agreement under consideration reduces that minimum to 20, creating the likelihood of service extended to less densely developed areas not currently served, such as MacDaniel Road, Hutchin Hill and the farthest extensions of Mink Hollow and Silver Hollow, to name a few.

Municipalities may impose a franchise fee of up to 5% of the company's gross revenue, which Woodstock has since at least 1986. The cable subscriber pays the fee in his or her monthly bill to the company, which then remits the sum to the Town on a quarterly basis. Last year Woodstock's general fund received $110,000 from the cable subscribers.

Gross revenues, in the proposed document, include all revenue derived directly or indirectly by Time-Warner from the operation of its system within the township, and include, but are not be limited to, amounts for the Basic Service tier, cable programming Service Tiers, pay per channels and pay per view services, music services, video on demand, converter rental, subscriber installations and transactions, leased access, advertising, and equipment rentals. Gross Revenues shall not include excise taxes, late fees, bad debt or any other taxes that are imposed on Time-Warner or any subscriber by any governmental unit and collected by Time-Warner for such governmental unit. Gross subscriber revenues shall include revenue from cable modem service to the extent these services are deemed a cable service by applicable federal or state laws or by a court of competent jurisdiction binding upon the Town and Time-Warner Cable. As of now federal and state laws do not allow cable modem service fees to be considered as a part of gross revenue, which means subscribers with internet or phone service do not pay the 5% franchise fee.

If history is a guide, most of the town board's attention will be focused on the provisions relating to education and public access channels. Federal law mandates Time-Warner to provide a channel for each, and although Woodstock's channel 23 is an entity well known to the community, the education channel 20 has not been, at least in Woodstock.

This is not longer the case, since the towns of Hurley, Olive and Shandaken now share an active education channel with content provided by the Onteora School District, which encompasses the aforementioned towns, as it does a large part of Woodstock. Ironically, it was a Woodstocker, former councilman Gordon Wemp who originally conceived the idea for a single education channel to serve the Onteora school district, and who then got the support of the Onteora school board. Shortly afterward the Large Parcel brouhaha burst over the district, and the idea lay dormant until recently. The reason the three towns, but not Woodstock, have the service is because they formally renewed their respective franchise agreements with Time-Warner. Channel 20 broadcasts on a daily basis updates with regard to closings, meeting schedules, student productions and other district matters of interest. There are now Woodstock parents and students feeling left out, and this is perhaps the impetus for the town board scheduling its public hearing.

What may frustrate those anxious for the education channel is the argument that if the town board were to be "tough" with Time-Warner then the local public access channel could receive significant funding directly from the company to upgrade its facility and finance personnel for its operations. These contentions have been raised in the past, and most likely will be raised again despite the fact that in all these years the proponents of such notion have not shown one instance of another community the size of Woodstock receiving such largesse from its cable service provider. By some of the comments made at the meeting it appears some members of the town board, nevertheless, seem inclined to the "tough" tactic in negotiation and it is likely a consultant will be engaged.

The January 16 public hearing will be held at 8:00 pm at the Community Center.

Jerry Gilman

2008-12-31T13:50:00.000-08:00

This article appeared in the Townsman, December 24 edition

Woodstock, December 21

Despite the tremendous snowstorm making roads almost impassable there was a large gathering for the service for Jerry Gilman at the Woodstock Jewish Congregation temple on Sunday, December 21, Rabbi Jonathan Kligler officiating. Gilman died in his home in Shady the previous Wednesday. Those anticipating a somber occasion would be surprised; Gilman before he died had not only selected the names of those to speak at his service, he also insisted on a celebratory theme.

Brian Hollander and Leslie Gerber, who worked for Gilman when he and his wife Sasha blazed the WDST (100.1 FM) radio station trail back in the 1980s, told stories reveling in Gilman's foibles and idiosyncrasies, but also conveying deep love and respect for the man who had given them their opportunities. Gerber went so far as to call Gilman "a pain in the ass" and "a curmudgeon," but again with affection that far outweighed other memory of a man known to be highly literate and neither a small taskmaster nor a sufferer of fools. Former WDST employee Betty MacDonald paid tribute with a moving jazz composition on violin. Terrie Rosenblum paid tribute to her friend of several decades with a very amusing reminiscence of Gilman antics.

His daughter Julie, perhaps to be expected despite her father's command for levity, issued a moving tribute to a loving father.

All the speakers as part of their narrations told of a caring mentor, a generous friend, a scathing wit and a man possessed of bravery and integrity. He was also said to be quite fond of bulldogs, and Winchester was cited as the latest of a long line.

Gilman's wife of 54 years, Sasha, his daughter Julie, and two grandchildren survive him. A son, Michael passed away earlier this decade.

Jay, And Other Low Hanging Fruit

2008-12-24T16:44:00.000-08:00

December 24, 2008

Hey Reader, no doubt you saw councilman Jay Wenk’s latest letter to a local paper (not the one I work for, sadly). Here it is:

Dear Editor,
The article in last week's issue on the Elna proposal needs some fleshing out. Firstly, there is absolutely no question that some of our employees and departments are working in unsafe and dangerously crowded conditions. There was an impromptu motion made at our meeting last Tuesday to move ahead with the Elna project and I want to list my reasons for voting no. This problem has been in existence for a long, long time, and the previous Town Board headed by Jeremy Wilber moved ahead with a plan to rehabilitate the Town Hall. Bob Young was hired to do the architectural work. Well over $200,000 was sunk into that project, with no discernable gain; in other words, that money went into the toilet. Based on Young's estimate for the job, the Town had a referendum to raise the money but the actual cost was about 40 percent higher than the estimate. Remember that Wilber was the one who ignored a Town appointed siting committee for the cell tower and also made a contract with JNS that cut the Town out from significant funds. On a walk through at Elna, I mentioned to Young that the building was huge, cavernous and out of scale with our needs. He responded that many of the employees' demands were "bloated."
I expect to avoid past mistakes and oversights. I don't have confidence in Bob Young to do what we need to do. I'm not in favor of removing a valuable tax-paying building from the rolls. While it may pan out that Elna is the right place, if not some other place or project, I will need some other consultants to advise the Board. I am looking forward in the very near future to having expert opinion come in. This situation can and will be resolved by the present Board, without resorting to impromptu motions to vote for old failures.

Jay Wenk
Woodstock

Jay’s first response, made at the December 16 town board meeting, to what he described as “absolutely no question… some of our employees and departments are working in unsafe and dangerously crowded conditions” was much more direct: “Something must be done but I don’t know what.”

This second response, made after what had to have been some deep thinking contains soft, even poignant digressions. Yes, it’s like Old Pappy, you remember him, after he took out his teeth and lit a pipe and not let facts importune his fuddled stream of memory.

The “previous” town board spent just under, not “well over” $200,000 in preparing a detailed plan for the Town Hall renovation. It is still an obscene amount of money, no question, but planning for municipal projects is never cheap (for instance, how many of you perform environmental assessments before you renovate?). The expenditure included engineering and architectural services to be rendered during the actual renovation. The expenditures were approved by unanimous consent of the town board.

The “previous” town board projected a cost of $1.6 million, financed by a $1.45 bond and $150,000 cash on hand.

About three hundred residents, who cared enough --about a 7% turnout, -- came out to vote in December 2007. A little over 60% approved the plan.

The new town board waited until March to put the project out to bid.

The bids came back with a $2 million tab. This is called a “cost over run.” Almost every municipal project of any significance runs into one. Our last example was the highway garage.

The new town board got the bids whittled down to $1.8 million.

The new town board could have (with a minimum of 3 votes) adopted a resolution raising the $1.6 cap to $1.8, subject to permissive referendum. This is what the “previous” town board did with the highway garage. Had the new town board done so by about this time we would have a renovated Town Hall.

THE NEW TOWN BOARD DIDN’T.

The new town board did adopt Jay’s a no-idling resolution, and act of supreme irony.

Perhaps embarrassed by his very small accomplishments in his year on the board, Jay chooses to find fault with the “previous” one. He barely disguises his desperation. Thrown into the turmoil of “some of our employees and departments… working in unsafe and dangerously crowded conditions,” and the expectation that he do something about it, Jay, with a more than passing resemblance to Bush, pops us with “Remember that Wilber was the one who ignored a Town appointed siting committee for the cell tower and also made a contract with JNS that cut the Town out from significant funds.”

Yes, Wilber, he of the "previous" town board!

This is oddness to a level even extreme by Woodstock standards. It’s like someone promising to talk about grapes, when all of a sudden a big casaba pops out of his mouth.

He is talking about Liz Simonson’s recommendation to build a cell tower at the old dump, a lovely idea that dead-ended on the realization that not one single carrier would put an antenna on a tower in that location (apparently bears and deer don’t use cell phones). Ask Liz. With respect to the tower built on California Quarry, which did not cost the Town one penny to build, he forgets (Jay’s forgetfulness is truly something to be concerned with) that the planning board mandated a tower design that cost the builder much more money to erect, and so yes, the Town gave up its share of the revenue for the first five years.

Maybe what Jay is really saying is the “previous” town board did something and should be ashamed of themselves, and the new town board, which has done nothing should be praised for it.

Old Pappy, after he took out his teeth and lit up the pipe would think like this.

By the way, don’t you just adore Jay’s use of “firstly”? It sits out there like Pappy's teeth in a jar because even after the most thorough, forensic search of his soft, poignant letter one cannot find “secondly,” or as Jay might put it, “secondarily.”