Residents of the Village who've never heard of the place are fearful that, with the establish­ment of an eruv chatzerot, Westhampton Beach will become "another Kiryas Joel."

Those who harbor such dread likely wouldn't know a Hasidic Jew from an Orthodox Jew, and had I not spent considerable time on Orchid Street in the mid-'70s buying tee-shirts for screen-printing, I wouldn't have known either.

I'll not presume to offer religious instruction about a faith in which I have no background, but as a rule of thumb, the "ultra-Orthodox" Hasidim dress in black and wear both beards and payes.

To date, there have been no Hasidic sightings reported within the Village.

Despite Rabbi Marc Schneier's professed in­tentions in the early '90s about establishing an Orthodox Synagogue in Westhampton Beach, today he acknowledges that…

"I'm a modern-Orthodox rabbi with a Conservative congregation and a Reform membership."

(My scholarly friend Shep Scheinberg in­forms me that in that context, "Reform" would be the most "Liberal" branch.)

Note that Rabbi Schneier does not include the Hasidim in his quip to the The Jerusalem Post.

So essentially, we have a bunch of ill-informed locals who couldn't tell a Presbyterian from a Protestant or a Palmarian Catholic from a Jes­uit much less a Orthodox Jew from a Hasidic one, trembling behind their doors that if the eruv is allowed, their new neighbor will be placing a mezuzah on their front door post and ritualistically killing their firstborn sons.

(G-d forbid that any of my non-Jewish neighbors get wind of the Lubavitch.)

This is not Westhampton Beach's finest hour.

From More of "The Story"…

Robert A. Kelly, Jr., known to most as "Gus," serves as Westhampton Beach Village Justice. And while only his part­ner Jim Hulme appears before any Vill­age Boards, did someone say "Conflict of Interest?"

One who appears to is the New York State Bar Association Committee on Professional Ethics.

In "Opinon No. 632," dated March 23, 1992 and still controlling, the Ethics Committee is clear on the issue of part-time judges being prohibited from appearing before Zoning Board of Appeals and Planning Board of the same municipality in which they serve, and express some strong views on disqualification of part­ners and associates of the judge.

The application in question is Westhampton Beach Associates' proposed 39 three-bedroom condos on Old Riverhead Road, which quite directly led to the $25 million 1983 Action.

While the Muchnicks are represented by An­drew J. Campanelli of Cam­panelli & Associates, PC in the lawsuit, their attorney of record in the appli­cations before the Village is James N. Hulme, of Kelly & Hulme, P.C., i.e., the under­lying law firm, and this is where the State Bar Associ­ation might take note since their con­trolling opinion states:

(W)hether the partners and associates of the part-time judge may practice before the boards of the same municipality depends on the particular facts and cir­cum­stances.

The entire, 1250-word opinion, for the pur­poses of context, is available on-line, but some instructive pass­ages include:

Clearly, the partners and associates of a part-time judge may not represent or imply that hiring the firm will result in using the influence of the judge in zoning and planning matters.

Hello!

The judge may not circumvent the force of (Code of Judicial Conduct)'s Canon 2 by sending a partner or associate to represent the judge's clients before these boards.

And…

(V)icarious disqualifica­tion should not be imposed if the judge's partners and associates have an ongoing independent practice before these boards, the judge is screened from any involvement, and their practice is con­ducted without using or even appearing to use the name and influence of the judge.

The critical element at issue here is the "appearance of impropriety, prejudice or favoritism."

Like Caesar's wife, those who serve the Village, and their associates, must be above suspicion.

Which is not to equate Rabbi Marc Schneier with Darth Vader, but has anyone seen today's NY Post yet?

Hamptons' Edgy Holy War
Residents of a wealthy East End enclave are up in arms and living in fear that their tony way of life will be destroyed - all because of a quarter-inch strip of plastic.

And yeah, even with the "wealthy East End enclave" and "tony way of life" garbage designed to titillate the Gotham strap-hangers, they're talkin' 'bout us!

That which OtBB discussed ten days ago, ("Incomprehensible!") has come to pass, and it is only the first of other shoes to drop.

What's sad for the Village is that is was all so avoidable.

Wow! Nothing… well, scarcely anything… happened at the Monthly Planning Board meeting tonight!

Which, considering what's been happening at municipal board meetings of recent, is, as Mostly Martha likes to say, "a good thing."

O, faux Chairman Ralph Neubauer read some boilerplate house-keeping stuff he probably cribbed off the Village Website, but one could prop a large Elmer Fudd doll up in that seat, pull a little ring-on-a-string out of his neck and have him recite the same verbiage for all the leadership he displays.

Former Chairman and likely lame duck mem­ber Victor Levy is the one who takes charge of colloquy with applicants and their attorneys, and member Dave Reilly jumped in on a Q&A with some concerned bounders, but Chairman Neubauer is as big a bust in the position as Barry Zito and Andruw Jones are with their new teams.

But there was no action on the two appli­ca­tions of greatest interest: Westhampton Free Library's temporary site down the avenue from their proposed $7,827,820 raze'n'rebuild project, and the Muchnicks' proposed 39 three-bedroom condos on the West side of Old Riverhead Road with the bonus $25 million Federal Civil Rights lawsuit attached.

So, the Planning Board cleaned a little bit off its calendar tonight, removing the dis­con­tin­ued application of The Sandwich Club for an additional use as a delicatessen, and sent a referral letter to the ZBA for a resident wishing to fill his property in the Oneck/Stillwaters area.

In all, very little entertainment value at Village Hall this evening!

The question must be asked: what has Eastern Environmental Solutions been doing at 28 Library Avenue of late?

The parcel in question is private property, of course, site of the former Raynor's Garage but pres­ently under review by the Westhampton Beach Zoning Board of Appeals as the propos­ed temporary home of the Westhampton Free Library during their $7,827,820 "raze and re­build" project up the street.

Anyone else take note of the recent an­nouncement of the almost 54% tax hike scheduled for the Library district this coming year, or, as reported by Jessica DiNapoli in the current Southampton Press Western Edition, the aggressive statement by multi-Trustee Hank Tucker in support of the huge tax hike:

This is something taxpayers voted on… it's not a surprise we're raising taxes.

That's a separate issue, however.

The preparation of 28 Library Avenue in antici­pation of ZBA approval of WFL's application is entirely understandable.

According to Village Building Inspector Paul Houlihan, the only recent sur­prise at that site was the discoverery of over two dozen well-used vehicle oil filters in the Southeast corner of the property, and that the interested Gov­ernment agencies, Suffolk County Department of Health Services and the Department of En­viron­mental Conservation are "on it."

Know who else is "on it?" OtBB is truly pleased to report that 27East.com, The Southampton Press Group's new on-line brand, has not only covered the story, but done a bang-up job of it! (See "Potential site for library trailer may be contaminated." (Is that really you, Carol­ine Simson, or is Doug Love back on staff and tele-commuting?)

With the appear­ance there last week of Eastern Environmental Solutions' heavy equipment, including a huge tank truck… presumably to remove rather than deliver something… one had to wonder what was going on?

That area of Library Avenue, upon personal observation, has been flooded in the past, but with the well-known propensity of liquids to travel downhill and the decades-long presence of two "gas stations" less than a quarter mile apart on that street, much of which operation took place during significantly less "environ­mental­ly sensitive" times, could there have been another "plume" detected?

The presence of one originating from Parlato's old Esso station on the corner of Library and Main, ef­fect­ively sterilized that parcel for several decades, and adversely affected a num­ber of properties to the South and West until it was finally deemed sufficiently rehabilitated for development relatively recently.

But motor oil… especially waste motor oil… doesn't "plume" in the same manner as the less viscous gasoline spills and leaks, so the "contamination" should not prove an im­pedi­ment to WFL's plan.

…but certainly not un-newsworthy, were the uncommon activities at the Westhampton Beach Planning Board Work Session of April 28th.

It's not that The Southampton Press Western Edition didn't have anyone covering it… Jessica DiNapoli was present for a large chunk of the meeting, and while no audio recorder or note­book was in evidence, she snapped photos of Bruce Barnet and Robert Muchnick, the latter just an instant before the meeting got really interesting.

The sole notice that the newspaper was even on the job that afternoon, was the following which was included in Ms. DiNapoli's page 1 story of the Muchnicks $25 million lawsuit:

All five members of the Westhampton Beach Planning Board, as well as Village Attorney Bo Bishop, declined to review or comment on Mr. Muchnick’s application for the complex at last Thursday night’s Planning Board work session, although it was listed on the agenda.

That was it… nothing about the statement by the Village Attorney, or the expressed inten­tions of Planning Board members Victor Levy and David Reilly, to leave the hearing if Mr. Muchnick spoke.

Was a time when a reporter from the old Chronicle-News… Ann Nowak, Jim Nolan, Doug Love, Joe Louchheim or Bill Sutton all come to mind. Any of them would've been all over that like a Long Island duck on a Japanese beetle. It was a key event, the first confrontation between the Muchnicks and the municipality since the existence of the lawsuit was revealed.

Perhaps The Press doesn't wish to appear to chase OtBB on a story anymore than is necessary, but the rub is that they are designated the "journal of record" for the Village, not this blog.

It was, quite simply, the worst of Westhamp­ton Beach on display during a two-plus hour monthly Village Board meeting, and the "hot topic" was not the $25 million dollar Federal Civil Rights lawsuit by the Muchnicks, but the Hamptons Synagogue's proposed eruv.

Anyone there who might have felt they had taken a wrong turn in a time machine and wound up in a Southern town in 1912, can be excused. The amount of irrationale fear and ill-concealed bigotry was alarming in the utmost.

Early during the regular business portion of the meeting, the Board voted, 5-0, to schedule a Public Hearing on the eruv for May 28th, the sole time the subject arose until Mayor Conrad Teller open the floor to public comment.

The overflow audience, a large number of which were from the Pond Point district and were apparently mobilized by some of the er­roneous E-mails being circulated this week, was clearly exercised over the notion that the Village was entertaining the Synagogue's request for municipal permission to establish an eruv chatzerot within the Village.

One attendee noted: "Well, that's what happens when a bunch of Irish Catholics get lathered up with bad information. It's a good thing that Father (Joseph) Mirro was there and spoke as he did, otherwise it would have gotten uglier."

The attorney representing the Synagogue in this matter, Richard Haefeli, did indeed have the priest from Immaculate Conception with him, and the man twice spoke briefly. His as­sertion that he personally had no reservations about the eruv, appeared to have a calming and re­assur­ing effect on many.

Not all, however.

Dune Road's Jacqueline Sprotte, who had at the April Work Session urged the Board to delay making their decision 'til more seasonal residents had arrived, again spoke in favor of holding off on the vote.

Husband Robert then exposed the ugliest as­pect of the evening, and while I'm reason­ably confident that Mr. Sprotte would reject as of­fensive the notion that any of the Jewish faith in Westhampton Beach have their homes mark­ed with a Star of David, or be obliged to wear a yellow strip of cloth sewn on the front of their garment as they walk through the Village, that seemed to be the subtext of his message.

Quiogue's Irene Barrett was back, and blithering insistently that the Synagogue's Executive Director Sam Nussbaum had twice stated something which, upon personal observation, he never uttered. Even when Mr. Haefeli arose to remind her that it was he, and not Mr. Nussbaum, to whom the statements were attributable, she stuck to her guns, and even made a point to approach me after the meeting to hiss "He did say that, twice!"

Even had I wanted to, I was unable to respond to the vexed woman, being otherwise engaged trying to avoid an even angrier Robert Flanagan who was busy jabbing his finger into my sternum. Both remind me of the type of people who routinely have losing battles with inanimate objects after six o'clock in the evening.

Mr. Nussbaum may, inadvertantly, have given the Pond Point delegation gist for their rumor mill when he related anecdotally that he had left an upstate community "because it was too Jewish for me." One can almost hear the wag­ging tongues! "See, he's Jewish and look how he feels! Don't blame us for having the same concerns!"

The Big Finish

In response to an earlier question, Mayor Teller acknowledged that the Police Officer who had polled the Main Street business owners as to whether any had ever been approached by Syna­gogue representitives suggesting that they close on Saturdays, had been dispatched at his direction. As the meeting wound down, the idea that protracting the eruv discussion was not such a good idea finally occurred to the Mayor, and he astonished everyone by calling for an immediate vote.

Well, perhaps everyone but Trustee Jim Kametler, who instantly seconded the motion. Now either this had been worked out between the two officials previously, or the Deputy Mayor is so under his old boss' thumb, that he's in auto-lockstep with anything the Mayor proposes.

What's really odd about their current relationship is that when the two men served together on the Village Police Depart­ment, they were on the "Do Not Invite to the Same Party" list.

And just as quickly as the Deputy Mayor had moved the Mayor's motion, Trustees Joan Levan and Toni-Jo Birk shot back with terse "No!" votes, leaving it to the newest Trustee, Hank Tucker, to pause and ask for clarification as to what was being voted on.

After brief colloquy with the Mayor, Mr Tucker cast the decisive motion-defeating vote, and clearly articulated his thinking on the matter.

Memo to Conrad: Good idea, but two weeks too late, and given that earlier scheduling of the Special Hearing, you've opened yourself to charges of breaking faith with the fearful and the intolerant. But I'm sure you can live with that.

Not a bright moment for the Village of West­hampton Beach; actually, an embarrassing one for many of us who make this our home.

Timing, it is said, is everything, and this has been especially true in the initial stages of Westhampton Beach Asso­ci­ates LLC's $25 million 1983 Federal Civil Rights Action against the Incorporated Village of Westhamp­ton Beach and eighteen named individuals.

With the Muchnick's long-awaited approvals for their 39 three-bedroom condominium project on the West side of Old Riverhead Road, just "an eyelash away" from being granted, it was learned that the applicants had surreptitiously initiated such a lawsuit, but were keeping that information "close." No one in the municipality was aware of the action's existence since none of the defendants had been served.

Not to be churlish, but today's South­ampton Press Western Edition (again) has it wrong. Reporter Jessica DiNapoli's lead to her Page 1 story, "The Village of Westhampton Beach has been served with a $25 million civil rights lawsuit…" is factually incorrect. While a lawsuit was filed on April 10th, at this writing, none of the defendants have been served.

That the Muchnick's 1983 Action is even now a topic of discussion, stems from simple happen­stance. A non-involved attorney, Brette Haefeli who practices in the Village, was contacted on April 14th by a friend from her law school who thought to rib her about her father, former Village Attorney Richard Haefeli, being named as a $25 million defendant.

All Federal actions, once they are filed, are put on-line, and are searchable and downloadable.

From that point on, as Groucho Marx's broker told him the morning after the stock market crash of 1929, "The jig was up."

Certain key individuals within the Village were made aware of the Muchnick's 1983 Action that week, but the municipality's response was an inexplicable amalgam of "No big deal!" and para­lytic fear, so no action was taken, not even a conferencing to discuss what the lawsuit meant and how the Village should procede now that they had been unintentionally granted a "sneak peek" at what the Muchnicks intended.

On information and belief, the munici­pal­ity's insurance carrier wasn't even noti­fied until a week later, and if there's any­thing anyone "knows" about insurance companies, it's that they love to find a way to deny coverage, so the com­pe­ten­cy of the Village's represen­tation in this matter is very much in question.

Also on the issue of competency, the attorney who filed the 1983 Action on the Muchnicks' behalf, Andrew J. Campanelli of Cam­pan­elli & Associates, PC, listed as a basis for the action:

Village officials threatened to require Mr. Muchnick to complete a lengthy en­viron­mental review, expected to cost at least $300,000….

Planning Board records show that the Much­nichs early on, under then Chairman Victor Levy, were given the option of either revising the look of their project, or being given a "Positive Declaration," and made the choice to go "back to the drawing board. "

To the extent that SEQR can been deemed a "threat," that charge can be placed squarely in the lap of current Planning Board Chairman Ralph Neubauer, who was still on the ARB when Westhampton Beach Associates LLC first made application to the Village.

One of the first actions undertaken by Mr. Neu­bauer after his patroness on the Village Board, Joan Levan, engineered his appointment to the Planning Board, was, as one observer char­ac­ter­ized it at the time, to "make ominous noises about 'pos dec'ing'" the Muchnick's application even after the applicant and the board were in accord with what needed to be done to ob­tain the approval.

The issuance of a "Positive Declaration " in the course of an application is one of a developer's worst fears, for the reality of such a determin­ation is that it will add 18 months or more and upwards of $150,000 to the process.

Another "worst fear" is that market con­ditions will deteriorate during an applica­tion's prog­ress through the municipal process, and through no fault of any­one's, that's exact­ly what happened to, along with everyone else, the Muchnicks. Their 1983 Action is seen by some as less an attempt at negotiating a more favorable approval from the Village then as a way to recoup some of their expenses in seek­ing approval for a project they no longer desire to obtain, giving the "soft" housing market.

Next: a discussion of "champerty" and the concept of "bribery" as defined by Article 200 of the NYS Penal Law.

"Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it." – George Santayana 1863-1952

There are many resources within the Village that the troubled present ad­min­istration could reach out to, not the least of whom is former four-term Mayor Arma E. Andon, who also served as Trustee.

The present Mayor, Conrad Teller, knows him… "Ham" gave Connie his job as Police Chief, so he should have no problem picking up the 'phone and ask him about the time during his second term that Westhampton Beach was in the eye of a maelstrom of controversy over Fire Marshal Dennis Cochran's strict ad­her­ence to the New York State Code Book and telling the area's fledgling Jewish religious community that it could not continue to use the residence rented from Martha Bergeron on Mill Road as "a place of public assembly."

Rabbi Marc Schneier couldn't believe his good luck, and parlayed a relatively minor difference of opinion into a major confrontation.

Suddenly "anti-Semitic Westhampton Beach" was Page One in New York City, Mayor Andon was fielding "What the hell's goin' on out there" 'phone calls from Suffolk County Executive Pat Halpin and NYC Mayor David Dinkins, Newsday worked the story harder than anything 'til the dark days of Shane Daniels and TWA 800, and guys I used to see at the range on Saturday mornings were now running up Mill Road, holding onto their kippah with one hand, a checkbook clutched in the other.

It was ugly… and it's gotten ugly again.

Instead of heeding the Spanish philosopher Santayana, the current administration… but that any of them read anything more chal­leng­ing than Field & Stream or Style Hair Mag­a­zine… would rather passively follow Shake­speare's "…what’s past is prologue."

It's all about the eruv chatzerot, and the Village Board not only dragging its collective feet in giving the Hamptons Synagogue approval for marking a virtually invisible religious "zone" which would only have mean­ing for practicing Orthodox Jews, but now es­callat­ing the request into a controversy which could land Westhampton Beach back on the front pages of the New York City tabloids.

While I always harbor cautions about anything in which Rabbi Schneier is involved given his disingenuous assertion before the Village Board as to how there would be no parking dimension to the construction of the Syn­a­gogue on the corner of Brook Road and Sunset Avenue, there was no plausible reason for the municipality to hold its Public Meeting on the request, and then approve it as the law of the land suggests it must.

Not only has the process been dragged out… even last week's perfectly reasonable "vetting" went on way too long… but now the business community has been lathered into a phony frenzy by someone behind the scenes who's either jus' plain stupid, or a liar… or both. It caused the administration to send West­hamp­ton Beach Police Sergeant-because-the-Mayor-took-his-Lieutenant's-money-and-gave-it-to-the-Department-of-Public-Works Trevor Gonce to do a poll of the Main Street business people about their feelings regarding the eruv in specific and the influence of the Synagogue in general.

Bad move, Conrad!

Each of the last two decades has had at least one Big Story which has drawn reporters, photographers and television trucks festooned with boom antennas into Westhampton Beach… the mid-'80s had "The Bess Mess" with squadrons of media literally camped out in front of Andy Capasso's home on Exchange Point, and the mid-'90s saw Westhampton burning and Shane Daniels almost murdered across from Club Marakesh.

Don't be surprised if Westhampton Beach gets a black eye over this.

(OtBB will be back to the matter of the $25 million Muchnick 1983 Civil Rights Action shortly.)

– The Tempest, Act II, Scene 1.

…came independent of one another, from two different attorneys fifteen minutes apart!

Following the news broken Wednesday by OtBB of the $25 million 1983 Action filed last week by the Muchnicks, both lawyers referred collectively to defendants Bob Strebel, Mark Raynor, Tim Laube, "Ridgie" Barnett, Jimmy Kametler, Connie Teller, Toni-Jo Birk, Joan Levan, Dick Haefeli, "Bo" Bishop, Vic Levy, Dave Reilly, Barb Ramsay, Ralph Neubauer, Sundy Schermeyer, Paul Houlihan, Kyle Collins and Dave Emilita, as "The Village People."

Although I still don't trust to coincidence, as these two attorneys rarely communicate with each other, it must be pure happenstance.

Still, it's an appropriate designation… and much better than "et al."

One also mused aloud if it was "coincidence" that the Muchnicks' attorney in their appli­ca­tion before the municipality, James Hulme, was out of the country at the time the lawsuit was made public.

From A New Cloud Darkens Village Hall:

(The names of Kelly & Hulme will … figure prominently in this matter….)

In the ol' days, if someone received an adverse decision on an application before a municipal board… Village Board, Planning Board or ZBA… and they felt strongly enough about it, they "took it to Griffing Avenue," filing an Article 78 action in New York State Supreme Court in Riverhead.

If the applicant still disagreed with what was rendered there, it was sometimes taken to the next appellate level.

However, there's an alternative legal strategy of late, the 1983 Civil Action for Deprivation of Rights. In the practice of Civil law, it would be the "nuclear option…" except that it's a little more "personal," the equivilent of a dis­grunt­led applicant putting a pistol to the temple of a municipality and each named defendent.

It's just happened in the Village, and there's a number of residents who give of their time to serve the community on the various municipal boards, in this instance the Planning Board, none of whose members ever anticipated sign­ing on for personal exposure to a $25 million lawsuit… plus possible punitive damages.

The other named individuals, the attorneys, the planning consultants and the Building Inspector, are well-compensated, and are likely covered by their own insurance carriers.

The Village Board, with dental benefits and full health insurance, is altogether another matter…. But the big rub is that no award of punitive damages is ever covered by an insurance coompany.

The Muchnicks' Westhampton Beach As­so­ci­ates LLC has been represented by the local law firm of Kelly & Hulme in the application before the Planning and Village Boards, and by An­drew J. Campanelli of Mineola-based Campan­elli & Associates, PC, in their 1983 Action.

Being under a $25 million gun tends to get one's attention, and after something like this, the municipality may find that the pool of residents willing to serve on a board, just shrunk considerably.

Not-so-coincidentally, The Southampton Press Western Edition this week, in a Page 1 story by Jessica DiNapoli, covers a remarkably similar $25 million, plus punative damages, 1983 Action filed last Fall by developer Rocco Lettieri against Mayor George Motz and several Quogue boards.

If The Press' story is accurate, and Mr. Lettieri and the Village of Quogue "are taking steps to settle" the action, then the "nuclear option" seems to be having the desired effect: the developer looks like he may obtain approvals for most of what he wanted, which approvals were previously denied.

Mr. Lettieri's Homefront Organization, Inc. has been represented by the local law firm of Kelly & Hulme in the application before Quogue, and by Andrew J. Campanelli of Campanelli & As­soc­iates, PC, in its 1983 Action.

And, wonder of wonders, there was a third such action on the East End, Richard Alfaro v. Barbara Labador, et al (CV-061470), in which a displeased applicant, with an interest in the former H. Sacks Produce site at 674 Montauk Highway in East Quogue, took Southampton Town Board, the Zoning Board of Appeals and the Department of Land Management and Zoning, not to Griffing Avenue, but to United States District Court for the Eastern District of New York in Central Islip.

Right! $25 million plus punative damages, and… wait for it… Mr. Alfaro was represented by the local law firm of Kelly & Hulme in the applications before Southampton Town, and, in their 1983 Action, by Andrew J. Campanelli of Campan­elli & Associates, PC.

"What's the big deal here?" some may ask.

1. Villages and Townships have codes. Wanna do something not permitted in the Code Book, make your case before the ZBA or at a Special Excep­tion hearing, and if the applicant feels the code was not properly adhered to, file an Article 78.
2. I've never believed in coincidences… in each instance, the same law firm bringing the 1983 Action, and the underlying law firm in all of these actions being Kelly & Hulme.
   
   Robert A. Kelly, Jr., known to most as "Gus," serves as West­hamp­ton Beach Village Justice. And while only his partner Jim Hulme appears before any Village Boards, did some­one say "Conflict of Interest?"
3. Because 1983 Actions are brought at the Federal level, there are significant differences in the "table rules."
   
   The biggest one is that if the action is settled before trial… and how many $25 million lawsuits aren't settled out-of-court???… and the Village or Town winds up paying a token sum of, arguendo, $10 (a plain ol' saw­buck), plaintiff's attorneys are still entitled to their fees: $75,000, $125,000… what­ever "the traffic will bear."

It comes perilously close to being a lose/lose situation for the individuals involved.

Next: who in Village government knew about the Muchnick's 1983 Action, when did they know it, and when was the Village's insurance carrier notified.

Under the Gun, Part I

Attended this afternoon's Planning Board Work Session just to see how the Muchnick's pro­pos­ed 39 three-bedroom condo project on the West side of Old Riverhead Road would be handled now that the $25 million lawsuit has been revealed to the Village.

When that particular application was called and Robert Muchnick arose in response, Village Attorney Hermon Bishop quietly interjected the information that he would be recusing himself from the hearing, and that the Board would be sitting without legal representation.

In quick order, Member Victor Levy advised those present that, on the advice of his own counsel, he would not be participating in the Westhampton Beach Associates LLC application due to the 1983 Action launched by the Much­nicks, and explaining in general terms why it was impossible for him to continue.

This was immedately seconded by Member Dave Reilly, himself an attorney, with a brief statement of his own. This action was quickly joined by Members Barbara Ramsay and Sundy Schermeyer with terse "what they said" dec­la­ma­tions, and Chairman Ralph Neubauer was suddenly a Planning Board of one before he too muttered something about his recusal.

The younger Muchnick, only momentarily deterred from his mission, continued sauntering to the head of the room, noting that he would like to make "some comments."

Neither Mr. Levy nor Mr. Reilly hesitated, both standing and leaving the platform, announcing that they could not be in the room for any part of his application.

Robert Muchnick quickly turned tail and resumed his seat, a stricken look on his face as he appeared to realize that he'd screwed himself, and that by instituting the 1983 Action against virtually everyone who'd even looked at the Westhampton Beach Associates LLC application over the past three years, instead of bringing the Village to its knees, he'd brought the process to a thudding halt.

Just how long a halt remains to be seen, as hastily-named Special Council Wayne Bruyn will be familiarizing himself with the thickening Muchnick file, and formulating a legal strategy.

Observers close to the situation have suggested that the next step for the Village should be to petition a Federal District Court Judge to restrain the municipality from rendering any decision while the Muchnicks are figuratively holding a gun to the Planning Board's collective heads.

More to follow….

Fresh from an OtBB chastizing for its persist­ent factual errors in reporting, The Southamp­ton Press Western Edition again pulled a doozy this week.

In a Page 1 story on the focus of last week's Village Board Work Session, "Village Weighs Eruv Plans," reporter Jessica DiNapoli filed the following:

Linda Dick, a resident of the village since 1972 who noted that she is not Jewish, said she does not support the board dividing the village into sections. "I’m extremely opposed to the village being divided into zones," she said. "I’ve always found the village low key and laid back and the eruv would change the tone of the village."

That was definitely not what Mrs. Dick said. And it's incomprehensible how Ms. DiNapoli could make such an egregous error!

(Psssst, Jessica! Ya shoulda checked the OtBB report of that meeting. I'm not the "Journal of Record," The Press is, but at this rate, that could change.)

I came to know Mrs. Dick's late mother Frieda as she and my mom were neighbors in their latter years, and I can only imagine the dear lady recoiling in horror at learning from The Press' Hereafter Edition that her daughter had renounced her Jewish heritage!

This gaffe cannot be put on the desk of Editor Frank Costanza, because he wasn't there, the meeting wasn't videotaped and I didn't see a tape recorder in Ms. DiNapoli's possession. However, she might like to consider that option… her predecessor on the Village beat, Caroline Simson, was also susceptible to not "getting it right." She showed up with a recording device which she very deliberately set up beneath the Trustees' noses last year.

Editor Costanza was quick to respond when The Press and its editorial staff were called out two weeks ago, asserting:

"The errors that slip through from time to time are unfortunate, but they are also part of the business."

Be interesting to see how well he can sell that to Mrs. Dick.

Not that the Village of Westhampton Beach doesn't have enough on its platter, but comes now a $25 million Federal Civil Rights lawsuit filed in United States District Court for the Eastern District of New York by the Muchnicks, who have sought to obtain Municipal approval for their proposed 39 three-bedroom condos on the West side of Old Riverhead Road.

Aside from the Village as an entity, named individually in the action are the current and former Trustees, Mayors, Planning Board members, and Village Attorneys, dating back three years, plus Planners Dave Emilita and Kyle Collins, and Building Inspector Paul Houlihan. The only one off the $25 million hook is sitting Trustee Hank Tucker.

(The names of Kelly & Hulme will, as we shall see, figure prominently in this matter… not, however, as defendents.)

Anyone who didn't see something like this coming, hasn't been clocking what's been hap­pening with the Muchnick application over the past several years.

During our impromptu little pity-party at the old Main Street Cafe following my six-vote thumping at the polls by the Empress of Oneck last June, after a suit­able amount of imbibition of Mount Gay Eclipse and 2¢ plain, then Planning Board Chairman Victor Levy made a three-part prognostication:

1. "You're out as Village Webmaster."
2. "I'm out as the Chairman of the Planning Board."
3. "Within a year, the Village will be hit with a massive lawsuit."

More Mr. Levy declined to say at the time.

But, with the first two predictions long fulfilled, by the September ZBA and October Village Board sessions, it became increasingly obvious who the most likely candidates were.

More details and nuance to follow. Names named, ineptitudes revealed. All the really good stuff.

This is not the way the named individuals want to swing into Spring, with a $25 million ham­mer hanging over their heads.

24 Oak Street, to be precise.

The Dep'ty Mayor appears to be doing some Spring cleaning, and rather than haul what looks to be a dilapidated old dog house out to the North Sea "transfer station" and pay the $25.00 disposal fee, he's looking for someone to save him the gas, the fee and the hassle.

He's learning guile… and some ethics. Or per­haps just because it's re-election time and his running mates have admonished him about not pulling any more boners!

In the not-so-old days, he would have told someone in the DPW to "get rid of that thing for me." And in those not-so-old days, they probably would have.

One thing the Deputy Mayor and two-term Trustee hasn't gotten clear on yet, is that if one is operating a Bed & Breakfast in West­hamp­ton Beach… as he and his current wife have been for a number of years, a permit is required from the Village. (See 197-80.4.)

Perhaps it would be a good idea to apply for one of those before filing that nominating peti­tion, Jim. You know, so you can lead by good example.

Just to update a couple of blog items:

• Goldberg (in)Famous Deli's signs of disrespect are now down to one.
  
  The one in the more Westerly win­dow is now gone by dint of the fact that the whole window is gone!
  
  Whether this is part of a remodeling effort, someone with a brick who shares OtBB's parochial sensibilities but is less articulate, or another drunk driver who didn't realize that Sunset Avenue's Southerly terminus is Main Street, is unknown at this time.
• Westhampton Steakhouse has em­braced the idea that they might attract a more upscale clientele with readings of the Psychic variety in­stead of the less wholesome Physic sort. Good decision.

Some are educable, some aren't….

Just like that, our (relatively) new 11978 Post Mistress, Jean Fuentes, is gone.

Not struck down by a U.S.P.S. employee "go­ing postal," but, as Jean Shepherd used to cry late at night over WOR-AM, "Excelsior!"

The lady has been promoted… "detailed" in the parlance of the postal service… to a position of greater responsibility in 11793. (You don't have to look it up, it's Wantagh.)

During her brief sojourn here, we had many occasions to, as New-Speak has it, "interface," usually about the abysmal "service" part of her employer's name.

Things like:

• Having a street-addressed Christmas card to the New Moon Café returned as undeliverable… even though the restaurant is right around the corner from the 11942 post office!
• The circuitously, and therefore tardy, delivery of my properly ad­dressed and timely posted first half property tax bill which some­how journeyed from 11978 to San Antonio, Texas before finding its way to Town Hall, 11968.
• Having to hand deliver a "Thank you" note to our neighbor across the street because Elsie Collins doesn't have a mail slot, and the route de­liverer is by policy not per­mitted to put it in her postal box. (This never would have occurred during the tenures of Freddy Francais or Mabel Williams!)
• Having a letter posted at 8:15 a.m. in the "11978" drop in the lobby, not delivered to me 'til the following afternoon postmarked "117…," even though the sender, Hugh Merle, did everything correctly to assure that it would be delivered the same day!
  
  Ms. Fuentes explained that U.S.P.S. deemed it "more efficient" to take intra-11978 mail up to Melville for automated processing before carting it back to 11978.
  
  Proper commentary about such logic and its empirical reality failed me at the time, and when I'd composed a suitable blog entry, Mr. Merle en­treated me to not write about the situation because he felt that Ms. Fuentes now had it out for him for "getting her in trouble."

  (The pressures of the Rotary Club Presidency seem to have put Hugh into the "High Strung" column this past year.)

Then my wife got a look at Ms. Fuentes one day and while she might be able to live with poor postal service, she couldn't ignore the fact that the Post Mistress was so damned attractive, so I wasn't allowed to go into her office and talk to her one-on-one anymore!

So g'luck in Wantagh, Jean… when you think of your time in 11978… and you will… be kind.

The Southampton Press Western Edition's last girl reporter is now The Press Group's Web gal, and she's in the process of compiling in­for­ma­tion for the 27east.com Visitor's Guide.

("27east.com," we learn, is the latest re-branding of the group of weekly newspapers which began their lives as The Southampton Press, The Hampton Bays News and The Hampton Chronicle. It is yet to be seen whether this will be strictly on the 'Net-side or the totality of the publishing enter­prise… it cannot be termed "em­pire" 'til Joe Louchheim makes the Rattray family throw in the towel… and between The Press' opening an Eastern front and the Della Femina viper repeatedly striking at their bosom, that may not be far off.)

OtBB brings this to its readers' attentions, not because it's shilling for The Press, but because there's an opportunity for anyone to pump up their favorite East End activity, recreational or dining spots, in the form of an on-line survey.

(If the message comes up "We're sorry. You have already taken this survey," drop Ms. Simson an E-mail and request a fresh link.)

For the record…

(Before Administration butt boy Ralph Neubauer starts circulating scurrilous rumors about any inappropriate re­la­tion­ship between Ms. Simson and the blogger, I haven't seen or spoken to the young woman in over six months!)

This can safely be filed under the heading of "Just one more thing I really didn't need to know."

A member of the closed E-mail group to which I belong, in one of his routinely mad moments, sent around a link to a time-waster Website which allows one to learn the The #1 Song on any particular date in history, noting that Gene Chandler's "Duke of Earl" had been at the top of the charts on the day he'd been born.

Lemming-like, I drilled down to find my own "birth song."

It was "I'll Never Smile Again" by Tommy Dorsey!

It's not like I haven't been carrying enough guilt around my entire life!

I had a great-grandmother when I was born: Flossie Wheeler, five foot zero and stone deaf from birth. Two hours after my de­liv­ery, my grandmother Beatrice mouthed the words "Nan had a son" to her, and Flossie turned and breathed her last.

I'd like to think she smiled, but the family archives are unsettlingly silent on such details.

Not a particularly exciting session this evening… Attorney Stephen Angel made a discursive pitch for the Westhampton Free Library's temporary site on Library Avenue on the site of the former Raynor's Garage, a bunch of people from the area showed up to speak in general terms about what a good thing the Library is, and Chairman Chris Bean closed the hearing subject to a determination next month.

No one, however, addressed any of the traffic and congestion issues raised by a number of the objectors last month, so it looks like some­one got to Jack Martins, his Dad and the Price family… or perhaps they shot their bolts at the Planning Board meeting last week.

Two other calendered items of minor note:

• The ZBA seems to have decided to give Andrew "Buddy" Mazzio a little lesson in patience and humility. The Board told the applicant that there were going to hold off on rendering a determination about Finn McCool's "illegal sign" for another month while they "worked on some of the wording of their decision."
• The other also involved a sign: Sun­set Café, the former He Bird/She Bird idea of Arthur and Bonnie DiPietro. The interesting part is that the applicant was represented by former Building Inspector Fred Showers, and when he served in that position, my great-great grand­father's wagon team could not have hauled Mr. Showers to a municipal meeting held in the evening.

As I prefaced this, a snorer of a meeting!

April 16th arrived, and the eruv chatzerot has been revisited.

The Westhampton Beach Village Board's dis­cussion of the Hampton Synagogue's proposed eruv took up a significant portion of the April work session this evening, even though the attendance was far from "packed."

The Temple delegation brought an im­pres­sive array of talent in an attempt to "seal the deal:" attorneys Dick and Brette "Someday my daughter all this will be yours" Haefeli, Presi­dent Morris Tuchman, Executive Director Sam Nussbaum, Rabbi Avraham Bronstein (not, however, El Exigente Scheier), and several members of the congregation.

They made a reasoned presentation for the allowing of the pole-mounted "devices" (key word if one reads the municipal sign code carefully) which would allow the more Orth­o­dox members to observer their religious traditions.

Following that, Trustee Hank Tucker tossed a soft lob to his old running mate, Joan Levan, who began some seemingly earnest question­ing of the applicants.

(Make no mistake here… the eruv is a "done deal" and has been from the jump. There was a lot of posturing in evidence this evening, particularly from the two ladies on the Board.)

Then it was Trustee Toni-Jo Birk on point, and she took the virtually identical route as the Empress of Oneck:

"I've gotten a lot of calls from people." "Concerns are being expressed." "I want to make sure that the Village is well-represented in this…."

(That last one is a very familiar theme of Mrs. Birk's, and was actually a man­tra of hers last year while she was re­ar­rang­ing the Village Police Department's shift schedules and handing out her "Police Commissioner" business cards.)

When the audience was finally permitted to participate… always at the sufferance of the Board at Work Sessions… things got a little more lively.

Dune Road's Jacqueline Sprotte had done some homework and made a pitch that the Board's decision be put off until more Villagers were in residence and could "vote" on the Syn­a­gogue's request… the word for which she was grasping was "referendum" but her prepa­ra­tions hadn't gone that far.

The Board did not seem disposed to entertain her plea.

Another woman, Irene Barrett wearing a fierce look and muttering dark sotto voce male­dic­tions, attempted to speak and was rebuffed by Mayor Teller because she was a resident of Quiogue without the Village.

Memo to Conrad: you might remember this policy the next time Angelo dela Fuente drags in a ringer from Rem­sen­burg to blow smoke up Deputy Mayor Jim Kametler's backside for spraying rounds at an opossum.

A third woman, Linda Dick from Mill Road, spoke at length and with great feeling about the establishment of an eruv chatzerot in the Village, and asked pointedly about the prec­e­dent of creating a specific "religious zone." She was interrupted by Village Attorney Hermon Bishop who averred determinedly that he was fully prepared to defend the municipality against any future proposals based on a "Well you did it for them so you gotta do it for us" basis.

Although I've never played poker with Bo, he has a bad "tell." When speaking to an issue, the confidence he has in his position is inversely proportional to the amount of eye contact he is able to make. He never looked at Mrs. Dick once while he was speaking to her.

The lady then finished expressing her strongly-held views on the matter… she's agin it!… and then precluded any meaningful dismission of those views on the basis that she might be anti-semitic, by announcing that she was Jewish.

A couple of other points:

• Early on when the subject of pos­si­ble expansion of the eruv in the future was broached, Executive Director Nussbaum faltered un­easily as he responded in gener­ally neg­a­tive terms. (Pssst!, it's all right, Sam, your attorney has already told the Village that there are plans to widen the "zone.")
• When Mayor Teller was asked why, if the approval of the eruv was foregone, what value this evening's process, his unequivo­cal response was: "We're vet­ting." Best answer yet!
• It's hard to report on the always fascinating topic of Mrs. Birk's "do" this time; it is un­clear whether she was sporting a new coiffure, or the previous one had simply wilted a tad.

The perfect coda for the meeting came from former Deputy Mayor Victor Levy who spoke in soft but compelling, and wholly non-sectarian, tones about why the eruv should be granted. It's too bad that the Work Session was not recorded for video-casting!

The bigger shame is that family obligations do not permit Mr. Levy to stand for office this June, because his candidacy would likely as­sure Village residents that the present Deputy Mayor would not be "a heartbeat away" from the top slot as was the case in Fall 2006.

One of the better promotional deals around this time of year can be found Tuesdays at Firehouse Pizza, truly the class of the area pizza purveyors. Proprietor Michael Araujo sucks it up and offers a large cheese (read: "plain") pie for $10.

And, as they say in the old neighborhood, "Such a deal!"

But don't go up there and expect a pro-rata deal on the best pie they make, the "crumbly sausage" pizza! The customer gets wacked the same price as any other night of the week.

Instead of an anticipated $10.00 plus $3.00 per topping plus Sales Tax tariff, it's the full boat all the way, $17.11 out the door!

Hey!, his store. His rules!

But it's a major disappointment to those of us who wait around 'til Tuesday for a bargain on some crumbly, cheesy goodness.

Addendum

With the 15th anniversary of the greatest unpunished criminal act, and whitewash, by the Federal Government in recent history just four days away, I'm getting a sense of how the besieged residents of the Branch Davidian church in Mount Carmel, Texas might've felt just before Janet Reno approved the assault which left 84, including 25 children, members of the religious sect dead.

It's not enough that we're made to suffer the interminable construction to the East and the weekly ear-splitting leaf-blowing to the West, a Southern assult was launched at 0800 this morning… by the Village, no less!

I returned from the dentist's to discover one driveway entrance blocked by a dumptruck and the other festooned with orange traffic cones while a piece of heavy equipment mut­tered back and forth emptying the con­tents of its scoop into the truck.

Just went I was wondering what next, a CEV to insert noxious CS gas through the front of the homestead, they disappeared.

It was probably just a friendly little reminder from the Village administration that they can do anything they want at anytime they wish.

Time to bring in more bottled water and MREs.

Another in a series of cranky local rants…

I mean, WTF?!?

For three (3!) consecutive years we have been assaulted by noise and tremors from first one bounding neighbor, and then the other, not to mention the intermittant construction and renovation going on behind us, a manifestation of which seems to require one of the con­tract­or's pick-up trucks to race the length of that flag lot's driveway at speed. (Perhaps this is borne of frustration from the West­hamp­ton Speedway having been razed and repurposed as restricted housing.)

To the West, where once Dr. Graham and his wife resided, our current neighbors retained the services of Jim Zizzi to undertake a ren­o­vation project that had power saws buzz­ing and hammers thwacking for well over a year. That was marginally endurable, but then one morning some piece of machinery delivered such a great thumping that for an instant I thought an airliner had gone nose-first into Aspatuck Road. Our whole family home­stead trembled on its well-constructed foundation, and my son-in-heir's legacy collection of hand-blown Venetian blue glass in the dining room china cabinet rattled and clanked dangerously!

I sprang to see what I was certain was going to be horrendous flames and plumes of pe­tro­leum-based smoke, when it occurred again… and while I couldn't see the cause, it repeated itself several more times. Something was being driven into the ground with im­mense force!

After that day, the ensuing months of sawing and hammering seemed mild by comparison.

Then just when the project to the West seem­ed completed, a young couple purchased the Griffing Halfway House to the East, and com­men­ced a major reconstruction that's now in its third year. More sawing and hammering ensued, plus a great deal of planting of trees and shrubs along the flag lot's driveway in an attempt to hermetically seal in privacy for their new pool.

Yes, where once "Pop" Griffing's man, Stanley Williams, had his "victory gar­den," there is now a swimming pool… I think! Can't really see it, but there's a big spread of green canvas in their back­yard, and I'm pretty sure that's what's beneath it. There's even one behind the old converted horse barn out back… I mean, honestly! Why live less than a mile from the ocean and the beaches and go to the expense of in­stall­ing all that gunite and tile just so you can swim in chlorinated water? (If Joni Mitchell ever did an overflight of Eastern Long Island, it wouldn't be the paved parking lots she'd be lamenting!)

The problem is been that, just when it seems like the renovations are over, a new aspect of the owners' vision is launched, with the at­tend­ant arrival of heavy equipment, in­clud­ing, but not limited to, dump trucks, caterpillars, pavers, backhoes, asphalt rollers, and the big rigs to transport them. From 7:30am 'til 6:00pm, their presence was always known.

Friday, we were bracketed by an un­re­mit­ting cacophony of heavy equipment from the East, and even more annoying, a shriek of a gas-powered leaf-blower from the West!

The latter was the ultimate exercise in absurdity, and ab­so­lute­ly avoidable… the leaves were wet and sodden, and we watched, mouths agape, while some three-quarter sized fellow of in­deter­min­able Nationality, wearing a "hoodie" and ear-muffs, ambled to and fro around our neigh­bor's yard, ruffling what there was of the well-groomed lawn, and moving the occasional leaf perhaps three inches! This went on for more than half the day, and was mad­den­ing… more so for the certain knowledge that the landscaper would have to return Saturday (he did!) to do the job correctly, assuming no precipitation overnight!

For the better part of 60 years, the noisiest disturbance we suffered in the neighborhood was intense end-of-the-month jet-jockeying of the late '50s and '60s when the Air Force base was active and the pilots would have to re­luc­tant­ly surrender their barstools at The Skyway Lounge and get in their required flying time. After that there was nothing 'til a brief period in the late '80s when shrill noises would escape Seafield Center for Right Living, Rest and Rehabilitation's rec room on nights when the moon was full.

Compared to six straight hours of a  leaf-blower, the occasional sonic boom or alcoholic's nocturnal howl would be welcomed.

westhampton beach: (We're baaaacccck!)

It's kinda discouraging when one picks up a copy of today's local "hometown" newspaper and sees something like this on page 2:

Motel Fire Labeled ‘Suspicious’

A fire that damaged several storage sheds near a shuttered motel in West­hampton Beach nearly two weeks ago…

The motel under discussion, of course, is "Bailey's," and the photo caption had it right:

Westhampton Beach firefighters extinguish a blaze that damaged several storage sheds near the Bailey's Motel on Montauk Highway in Westhampton.

Okay, so the reporter, Jessica DiNapoli, is relatively new on the Western Edition beat… and perhaps the area as well… but her Editor sure isn't, and among other things Editors are supposed to do, is "backstop" their writers.

Several week's ago, OtBB reported on another sloppily written/edited item by the same duo, and the subject of the gaffe, Victor Levy, responded with a comment:

Spoke to Frank Costanza this morning and explained that the reports of my being a 'former' Planning Board member were premature. I also explained that the story was 180 degrees off as to my remarks about volunteers not being included in the preferred list of affordable housing lottery entrants. I said the opposite…. Frank indicated he may have edited the story and changed the meaning in doing so.

The following week's Western Edition, how­ever, contained no correction or clarification, and it was left to Mr. Levy to write a Letter to the Editor to set the record straight.

I'm not privy to any of the details as to why it was resolved in that fashion, but it seems to me to be either laziness or cravenness on the part of Editor Costanza. His ultimate re­spon­si­bility, so the burden would be on him.

This is a sore subject for both Mr. Costanza and myself… just about this time two years ago reporter Caroline Simson filed a front page story which in its second paragraph described Gabreski Airport as being "…on the West side of Old Riverhead Road," and it was not caught.

When I pointed this event out to the Editor last May as one of the reasons why some had lost faith in The Southampton Press Western Edition as the reliable newspaper of record it used to take pride in being, it became a point of contention between us, as he felt that I was harping on that one gaffe.

All this can likely be filed under the heading of No Big Deal, but I take a certain pride in "get­ting it right" since, for me, credibility has always been everything. And if I drop the ball on something, I take pains to suck it up and correct it.

But clearly, that's just me.

(This was inaccurate… see Comments.)

In a word, it was "Terrific!"

Out of drizzly, chilly Eastern Long Island and under the sunny skies of the Netherlands Antilles is a deal I'd opt into anytime, but this trip was special!

And this one I let Jeanne plan from the jump… I simply sent her a link to a package deal I'd spotted to Saint Martin, and she did the rest 'cause she's a take charge kinda gal. All I did was pack my passport, my laptop and my meds… at this stage of one's life if one doesn't have a daily regimen of medications, either one's affairs had better be in order or one has lived a very sheltered and dull existence… and be there when she was ready to leave.

I'm not used to traveling like this… my life-long modus has been to pick a destination and then look around when I got there. This, however, is completely antithetical to anything within Jeanne's comfort zone, so we do it her way.

But I think certain aspects of this trip might have slightly improved the prospects of the Speir Rough 'n' Ready methodology… through Orbitz she booked airport-to-hotel and return transportation with a local travel outfit, and for the first time in my seven decades, I exited the luggage area to find someone holding a little sign with "speir" printed on it! Sweet!

Twenty-five minutes later the "sour" part had set in as we'd been sitting there with another couple, awaiting the arrival of someone else who, to the best of my know­ledge, is still a "no show" five days later! Only the threat of a passenger mutiny finally got us out of Princess Juliana Airport and into a cool libation at our hotel with any semblance of timeliness.

The reverse part was equally frustrating… they insist on picking us up at our hotel at 11:00 am for a 2:55 pm flight… it's a 20 minute ride, tops! Then the driver shows up 20 minutes late, and takes us on an unintended excursion of the North end of Saint Martin on the way to the airport. We'd've done much better hailing a taxi at both locations… and saved some money to boot!

It's also clear that, in respect to this island, the Dutch side is the way to go. The French have some sensational restaurants (and yes, we tried to return to the scene of our first evening's repast, Don Camillo da Enzo, but it was closed so we tried Le Galion at Marina Royale and while pricy, it didn't disappoint!)… but there is also an attitude problem that's just plain annoying! The people and establishments of Philipsburg, Simpson Bay, et al, are on the whole, warmer and more welcoming.

clarification: I earlier commented on the roads on the French side… while they are in poor repair in the areas of Marigot and Grand Case, they were in excellent condition on the northern portion of the island leading to French Cul de Sac and Quartier d'Orleans, and we even passed a small crew laying and rolling asphalt… at 6:15 in the evening, yet! The surmise is that they just haven't gotten down to the needier surfaces to the South.

One other item to touch on: information! Other than the ubiquity of the Internet, which is of importance primarily to those such as your OtBBlogger who travel with a laptop, it's still on a one-to-two day delay. Breakfast reading is limited to day-old International Editions of The Miami Herald, and CNN tends to rot one's mind. Gawd!, what biased blather! The most alarming bit of news to reach us during our five day stay, was that CBS was considering out-sourcing a portion of its news-gathering to Cable CNN. (It's at times such as this that I really miss young Alec Nagle… if he'd've lasted this long, he would probably be President of CNN!)

Little wonder that there's so much anti-American sentiment abroad. Yeah, Hillary Clinton's shrill and desperate Presidential campaign, and George Bush's perpetual "What? Me worry?" expression, contribute mightily to the ill-feelings, but try watching CNN for any given 20-minute segment with the eyes and ears of someone born and bred off-shore, paying particular attention to the babbling nobodys who pop-up to explain what General Petraeus just told us in his Iraqi SitRep, or how China is handling the Olympic human rights protestors.

But back to our honeymoon… as much as we've enjoyed our time here, we probably won't be returning anytime soon… we still want to visit Tortola, Antigua, Barbados and, for the first time for either of us, perhaps one of the alphabet Dutch Islands of Aruba, Bonnaire or Curaco.

That's still a ways away.

Okay, this is getting serious… three days and Jeanne has yet to get in a good snorkeling session. The weather has either been too overcast (although not for my purposes, I can assure everyone!) or the tidal action has rendered the best locations too murky… i.e., poor visibility! And one thing you definitely want is good visibility! Not only do you want to be able to see all the lovely finny little creatures frolicking around the coral, but it's important to be seen by any of the larger aquatic beasts who might, in less than ideal conditions, mistake you for one of those yummy surfer dudes for which it developed a taste on a recent pass through Tortola's Apple Bay.

She asks locally (Marigot) where the best place to book a snorkeling trip and is referred to the waterfront in Philips­burg! Makes no sense, but back to the Dutch side we go… the journey this time taking all of 18 minutes!

After some poking around the shops, we made our way to the "Duty-Free" area and acquire an oddly constructed bottle of "Rum Jumbie Coco­nut Splash" for $8.00… they had been working diligently to sell us some ornate bottles of Bailey's Irish Cream, our choice of original, Caramel or Mint Chocolate… thought I was gonna hurl! (Guess it could be acceptable over ice cream, though I'll never know.)

Though not quite on a par with my globe-trotting professional rock 'n' roll chef daughter, Jeanne is a wonderful cook and the coconut elixir will doubtless be put to in­spir­ed use sometime before the Summer is out.

Then it's off to the East end of the waterfront to "Bobby's Marina" to learn what possibilities there might be for a decent snorkeling excursion.

No chance! Why in the ever-loving blue-eyed li'l world we were sent over here is beyond me! But two valuable pieces of intelligence were gleaned… the English Isle of Anguilla collects a $12.00 per person "port tax" even for snorkel excursioners… more evidence of why the sun long ago started setting on the British Empire. We immediately red-line Anguilla!

The other bit of intel is most promising indeed: Grand Case, a dollar bus ride North of Marigot has exactly what we seek, and we immediately resolve to make that our first stop on the 'morrow.

A couple of killer exotic libations on the beach front, dinner at The Green House by the marina and we returned to the French side for an early turn-in.

Le Jour Quatre…

Up betimes and, following a sumptuous break­fast at our hotel, off to Grand Case with fins and mask in hand. The bus drops us at the door step of Octopus Diving, a modest little aquatic activity center operated by a couple from Calgary. The boat leaves at 1:30 that afternoon and the price is right, $30 each for several hours splash­ing around Creole Rock in the Baie de Grand Case.

Parfait! We pay cash to avoid the lousy Euro exchange rate, and book immediately, then poke around shopping and taking our ease 'til departure.

Our boat operator/guide is Rick, a Chicago-born second careerist itinerant "Dive Master" who, we quickly dis­cover, lived for several years in Saint Thomas at the same place I spent New Years '64, Frenchtown's Villa Ogle, a/k/a "Villa Ugly." My brother!

We embark from the Grand Case waterfront, which area took the brunt of a storm several months ago and wrecked whatever beaches they had… one is immediately reminded of the West End of Dune Road in the early '90s, pre-West Hampton{sic} Dunes.

The trip to the marine sanctuary of Creole Rock is a brief and pleasant one, and Jeanne spends the next two plus hours gliding gracefully along the coral shelf, utterly charmed by the many schools of colorful little fish, and delight­ed by her freedom of motion in the gentle buoyant waters. Her big discovery of the afternoon is an actual, honest-to-John-Wayne-Wake-of-the-Red-Witch octopus quietly clinging to a section of the reef. It is her first octopus, and this is a scuba-certified gal who has dived the Great Barrier Reef of Australia. She is as delighted as if she's just scratched off a winning five-figure lottery ticket!

No trophies, however  that's one of the im­mu­table laws of a Marine Sanctuary, which word seems not to have reached the organizers of the flotilla of Zodiac craft which assaulted the area shortly before we left. O, well….

Sucking on fresh slices of orange to vitiate the saline taste in our mouths, we head back to shore. Jeanne is a very happy lady!

Dining on barbecue chicken and ribs at Talk of the Town, a little al fresco experience my bride had earlier recon­noi­ter­ed in center Grand Case, was quite an experience. As excellent as was the fare, the service was not just de­plor­able, but so aggressively bad that I began to get the disquieting sense that our young waitress considered us "White Devils."

We left and took an inetable "Creole Sausage" ($2) with us for the under-fed black-and-tan canine sprawled in a yard down the street.

After a rambling and instructive bus ride back to Marigot, the sun, the salt air and the native cuisine helped to effect a early bed-time where Jeanne dreamed of rainbow-hued parrot fish and undulating octopi.

Today we settled in… usually this is pretty much an instantaneous thing with me when I hit a West Indian island. I just wriggle my toes in the surf, wrap myself around a bottle of Mount Gay Eclipse, and I'm right there for the duration.

But I don't do that anymore… hell, I can't do that anymore. More importantly, I don't even feel like doing that anymore.

A curious thing about the tropics I first observed in the U.S. and British Virgins when I worked on Jack Carstarphen's Wind­jammer "Maverick" for two years in the '60s… this is a dangerous part of the world if one has what the Oirish refer to as "the thirst." This is the ideal place to try to quench it.

Of course one never can, but it's all too easy to try… booze is both plenti­ful and extra­ordin­arily cheap. Every time we used to put into Saint Barthelemy, the crew would pool $6.00 and bring a case of Mount Gay aboard to stow in the forepeak. This at a time when a bottle was selling for $6.29 at Tommy LaValle's Liquor Store on Montauk Highway.

How pervasive was alcoholism down here? If one had any ten­den­cies of that sort, the moment one stepped off the plane in Saint Thomas or Saint Croix, it was as if one was given permission to im­bibe as much as one wanted… and if that inclination was there, brother, you wanted! I used to watch couples come down on their honeymoons and stay over an additional five weeks to establish a divorce residency!

But this ain't then and we're not one of those couples… after two beers with dinner at the Bali Bar in Marigot last evening, I slept like a babe in swaddling, and I'm up at 0500 clear of eye as I write this on our balcony above the azure Baie de la Potence.

Memo to Joe Milo: you used to make the best fajitas anywhere within driving distance of West­hamp­ton Beach, but the Bali Bar knows something you refused to learn: one needs more than three freakin' tortillas served with a sizzling fajita platter!

Today may be the day that Jeanne is turned loose with her snorkel and flippers on the local acquatic life! We'll have our tasty little Con­ti­nental Breakfast… I could wax rapsodic about the croissants… and make our way to the dock for a run out to Anguilla.

Yesterday we poked around Marigot a bit, had some crepes for lunch at a harborside rest­au­rant which advised on a hand-lettered sign "$1 = €1" (the crepes were even better than the exchange rate!), and then stumbled onto a public transportation stop where a small bus was waiting to take us over to Philipsburg for $2 a head! And 35 minutes later, we were there! (Easiest frontier anyone will ever cross… legally.)

While the roads seem better maintained on the Dutch side, the traffic is just as hor­ren­dous… O, did I mention that the lines of vehicles everywhere compares un­favor­ably with what is routinely seen during peak hours on Route 58? Sorry, this just does not compute! Bumper-to-bumper traffic crawling from one side of a West Indian island to the other! That 35 minute trip would have been 15-20 minutes tops otherwise!

If the traffic was dismaying, my search along the Eastern portion of Front Street was equally so. We couldn't even see the water from there, much less the isle of Saba 29 miles to the South rising like come mystical "High Tor" straight up from the Caribbean Sea.

The remains of Westhampton Beach's Bill Burcher are interred on Saba, an island I scouted for him on Christmas Day 1963 to report how accessible it might be for his wheelchair.

The sole familiar spot on that part of Front Street was the Pasanggrahan, a quiet little bar and restaurant favored by everyone from Burcher to Teddy Duvall to Bo Rogers. Gone… utterly gone… was the Hodge's Guest House presided over by the formidible Madame Bertha, and the solitary reminder that the family had even been there was a pier iden­tified as "Captain Hodge's Wharf" with a very lovely tribute plaque.

No, Philipsburg, once a sparsely-built, almost sleepy little beachfront community where there were no strangers, somewhere along the line hiked up its skirts and started whistling at cruise ships. It's all little shops now, all packed on top of one another, and looks now even worse than did Charlotte Amalie on Saint Thomas' waterfront 45 years ago.

When one actually got down to the beach there, it looked more like Santa Monica than anything West Indian… all that was missing was the roller-bladers! Big plus, how­ever, there were open access WiFi spots every 30 feet or so! Wow!, talk about progress!

Still, it was an alarming change from what I recollected from the early '60s. We scurried back to the French side, as quickly as the traffic would permit.

saint martin: No, not Sint Maarten. We're on the French side, and I'm thinking that we should have opted for the more familiar… to me, at least… Philipsburg where the Dutch seem to have things more under control.

The biggest, most annoying, difference, is the vehicular traffic. Despite all the large scale construction projects in evidence, the road­ways are in poor shape. This fact does not phase the drivers, however, all of whom appear to have received their Driver's Ed courses from someone in Boston. "Aggressive" does not begin to describe their style.

But, hey!, this is our (slightly delayed) honey­moon, and we're here for the warmth and the water… especially, as far as Jeanne is con­cerned, the water. As I write this, she's out reconnoitering the snorkeling and scuba op­portunities, but I'm thinking that our best hope is to hop over to Anguilla or Prickly Pear and let her splash around the channel side.

Some observations:

1. This ain't cheap… it may have been 45 years ago when I first raised this part of the Caribbean accompanying quadriplegic travel nut Bill Burcher, but it ain't no mo'. And although the once mighty American dollar is still accepted, it's less with gratitude than indifference; the official currency is the Euro and the present rate of exchange cannot be said to be advantageous.
2. We have very nice deuxième étage accommo­dations over­look­ing the Baie de la Potence… which, the way the French count, means we're on the third floor of Hotel Beach Plaza. We're on a windward shore, however, and the stiff breeze, refreshing at first, could become bothersome if it stays like this the whole time.
3. The advertised "High Speed Internet Access" is a whole lot less than what one might ex­pect… everything is charged for. In-room WiFi costs about $10 for an hour or $30 for one 24-hour period. 'Net access on a com­pu­ter kiosk in the lobby gives you one hour anytime minutes… but which declines to connect you to your Google or Yahoo on-line E-mail boxes for nebulous security reasons.
4. Our hotel has the hottest water of any hotel/motel/guest house I've experienced anywhere, ever… it's miraculous, and distinctly un-West Indian! I think back to my early days in Saint Thomas and Tortolla when the only possibility for a heated shower was waiting 'til around 11:00 am when the sun had sufficiently warmed the exposed pipes on the roof that one could experience about 45 seconds of 120° pleasure.
5. Also a big plus: we ven­tured out last evening and dodged the vehicular traffic… Jeanne thought I was kidding when I told her they'd come up on the sidewalk after us… and screaming unmufflered motor­cycles to find a superior little Italian restaurant, Don Camillo da Enzo where we dined mag­nif­icent­ly for $80, service compris. I had a delightful lasagna surmounted by an ornate arrangement of crispy eggplant skin, while Jeanne so thoroughly enjoyed her sublime spinach and Gor­gon­zola gnocchi that had she been able to do so in a decorous manner, would have had her writhing on the floor in the throes of gastronomic ecstasy.

The sun and sea beckon, and I think I spotted a café with an unfettered "hot spot." Free WiFi is always a good thing.

I did! It's a wonderful little side­walk bar, La Flibuste, half a kilo­meter from our hotel, where for the price of a Heineken draught ($2.50) they slip you the password and one can get on-line and stay there for as long as one desires!
All I wanna do is check my E-mail and file this, and so I have!

It was more a harbinger of Spring than the red breast of any robin.

It's new birth, new growth, and (for now) the freedom from the crushing fuel oil bills.

Those gay yellow flora are also a tradition dat­ing back to my grandmother's green thumb… if it was Winter, it was snow drops. When Spring sprang, it was the daffodils, followed by the narcissus and the iris.

They can take Thurston Raynor's cows off the Great Lawn, raze George and Charlotte Winters' home on Glovers Lane, and relocate Gussie Meeker's cottage to Mill Road, but we still have our lovely little flowers.

My wife will see to that.

Packed house at Village Hall tonight as the proposed 2008-2009 Budget was introduced, commented on… and passed.

Under the heading of Better-Than-a-Poke-in-the-Eye-with-a-Sharp-Stick, the tax rate went down a skosh, but that probably had more to do with the increased commercial assessments than any major cost-cutting on the part of this administration.

While the Village Police budget decreased, that was directly attributable to attrition… one area which increased in that department was the police dispatchers! The Board is converting the part-timer into a third full-time position, bringing the total dispatch nut to almost $210,000. The improved alternative would have been to kept the part-timer on, and put the two full-timers on permanent furlough.