The Rumpus itself is the creation of Stephen Elliott, whose own movie Cherry, coming out this year also works to break those divides. Read on for the intro and interview...

Jennifer Lyon Bell makes porn with a humanistic approach, designed to get viewers to identify with the characters, not just watch them. She combines the visual quality of art films with erotica. Her ethos is that the former could be sexier and the latter just plain better. Also, she doesn’t think porn should be for men or women (or that we differ much in how we respond to it).

Bell currently lives in Amsterdam and speaks at film festivals, porn festivals, and feminist porn festivals. Her life is full of the dualities of life, parenthood, marriage, career. She has a toddler and has been searching for preschools recently. Several years ago she set up her own production company, Blue Artichoke Films, to make and distribute the movies she wanted to see. Now she’s working on a series of three interlinked films and is just finishing a documentary in which she followed a woman embracing her submissive side around Amsterdam for three years. We spoke about film theory, porn, sex and ethics.

The Rumpus: How did you become a filmmaker?

Jennifer Lyon Bell: I’ve always wanted to make erotic films. I’d seen porn when I was younger and I had thought that it was really ridiculous and nowhere near as sexy as the fooling around my friends and I were doing. So when I was a teenager, I thought it would be neat to do something better. Only I went off to college, to Harvard, and it didn’t really occur to me that that was a legitimate career option. I was into sex-positive feminism, reading Susie Bright and Carole Queen, but I didn’t really consider that erotic film was something I could do. Instead I went into advertising and had a career there for ten years.

Rumpus: So what changed?

Bell: I moved to Europe with my boyfriend and thought it might be time. I’d talked about making erotic films to everyone, friends and family and strangers on the street. In Amsterdam I decided to get a masters in film theory just to study erotic film and come up with a template for why I believe film is sexy. Is it just a matter of showing body parts or is there more to it than that?

Rumpus: A few years ago the New York Times did an article I think in the Sunday Arts and Leisure section about someone trying to make porn films for women. It was all about the Prada shoes, like if you get the fashion aspirational enough, women will be turned on. But that did nothing to change porn or the tropes, say, of what is sexy, which is what you’re trying to do. We’re conditioned to see porn in a certain way and you’re trying to subvert what that is.

Bell: It’s true. We’ve created a separation between sex and the rest of life that’s unnatural, so I want make films that bridge the explicit sexuality in, let’s call it, porn with the artistic expression and emotions and plot lines you’d see in art films. It’s not just a way to make interesting film but is a metaphor for what’s compelling about sexuality. It’s part of life, so acting like it’s some kind of separate ghettoized experience that we need to hide and not discuss is silly.

Rumpus: How did grad school help? What did you do there?

Bell: Specifically I was thinking, does having character and narrative make you feel more erotically charged by a film and if so why? There I had a framework to understand why I believe making something sexy isn’t just about showing body parts, and I stumbled on cognitive film theory, which talks about why everyone – not just women but men and women – feel what they do when they look at the screen. I became interested in sympathy and empathy.

Rumpus: Do they relate to that weird truism you hear spouted off about women and erotic material, that women need character development and narrative and men need visual stimulation? Is that even true?

Bell: I don’t believe men and women are terribly different when it comes to looking at erotic materials and getting aroused. Culturally we act like women need to have a huge complicated story to feel connected to a sexual relationship, but I don’t think that’s true. Plenty of films that don’t have much character I find arousing. Still there’s a basic statement a film can make that enables you as a viewer to become much more engaged. Having sympathy and empathy means you get more turned on.

Rumpus: So, obviously we’re talking something more involved than just tits and dicks, say. More than just anonymous consumer porn.

Bell: Yeah, the statement a movie can make is that these are basically decent people. These are moral people, and that sounds funny to talk about morality when you’re talking porn, but for all kinds of film, porn included, being engaged with the story and its characters involves you in their choices and actions and how you ought to feel about them. One way of talking about it is it boils down to morality. Is what they’re doing good or not? And, when people are basically good, you feel bonded with them and you want to feel what they feel. Use that in an erotic move and we can really get into the action. You can create that bond in an erotic documentary with real people’s stories and personalities and showing what they’re actually like and that they’re basically good people. Or, you can do it with fictional characters. Watching them struggle with their morality makes it more interesting and enhances that erotic bond you have with them.

Rumpus: Which you’re doing now in a bondage documentary, right?

Bell: Yeah, it doesn’t have a title yet, but I’ve been following the main character Lotus around for three years. It’s the true-life coming-out story of a submissive discovering her BDSM side in Amsterdam. She approached me because she’d seen the other films and wanted me to film her life as she went through this. It took her a while to convince me. I didn’t think she was serious but was just being flattering. We just shot the final scene recently and she’s happy with how everything turned out.

Rumpus: How is stuff for Lotus now? What’s her life like?

Bell: It’s changed so much. She’s much more sure of herself.  Before she questioned herself and wasn’t as happy in her love relationship. Now she’s in a satisfying one with a man who she’s been with for quite a while. That happened during the filming, and she’s had fantastic BDSM experiences that have made her more happy and has this boyfriend who loves and supports her. The movie’s message matches up with my personal belief in sexuality, which is that only when you feel safe enough to be honest with yourself, with what really turns you on and what you really want in your heart of hearts that you can live your life to the fullest.

Rumpus: As we’ve talked about morality and character that’s made me think of Russell Banks new novel Lost Memory Of Skin about a kid committed for a sex crime. Basically he’s a porn addict, and it’s beautiful, very sensitively written. Banks gives him humanity and depth. As you were talking about a moral sense, it made me think of the Kid (which is what he’s called in the book). He’d been a consumer of internet porn and there was no human aspect to it, just a consumption-addiction driven thing where he was inured to porn. In a way the book was about how and why he couldn’t be open to something slower and deeper and more emotionally driven. It was partly about the larger culture of how that happens, that deadening.

Bell: We contribute to a culture where the only ways of engaging are turned on or not turned on – orgasming or not orgasming, as if it’s binary. Being aroused can have a very different flavor based on what kind of film you’re watching or what kind of situation you’re in and they’re not all the same. Arousal is not all the same. Some people maybe want to have the option of a really quick, not very involved orgasm sometimes. That’s okay, but I think it’s on a broader psychological and philosophical level it’s important to say, there’s arousal that’s more fulfilling for you if you want to find it.

Rumpus: So how does that actually come into your movies?

Bell: My first film Headshot – it’s a remake of a classic Andy Warhol movie from 1964 – and in the original, Warhol detaches the viewer from the image by never letting you see who’s giving the blowjob. You get no sense of the relationship between the two people. And, it’s a silent movie, which also goes a long way towards distancing you. I thought, wow, wouldn’t it be cool to do the same thing and bring in the emotions that come from sound and from seeing the relationship. I remade it with a man and a woman, and you still never see the person who’s giving the blowjob but I tried to bring out his personality.

Rumpus: You get a really quick sense in it that he’s totally up for this, a bit charged by on-screen sex with someone he’s never met, but also that she is too.

Bell: When he and this woman meet each other, it doesn’t take long for you to understand what’s exciting to both of them in this situation, so you’re invested in their having a great time for a couple of minutes because that’s all it takes.

Rumpus: How did you find him? He seems so very dude, like kind of some ur notion of male up-for-it guy?

Bell: At the cast party for Matinee, one of the crew members said he’d like to be in a film for me, and I immediately thought of Headshot. He had no experience at all. He was just a regular guy who wanted to explore his sexuality on film, so when I had the idea he was the first person I called.

Rumpus: How did Matinee work?

Bell: It’s a story of a woman who works in sex shows in Amsterdam and is struggling with whether or not to actually have sex on stage with her partner in the show. It’s very much her, Mariah’s, story. I want people to be into her and invested in this boundary she decides to overcome. She doesn’t let him know what she’s decided to do, so when it comes to her making this move and having sex with him, you’re completely into it, and you want her to have a good time.

Rumpus: Your movie Skin Like Sun has no dialogue or story, so how do we invest in the characters there?

Bell: It was commissioned for a feminist porn festival, and I made it with Mureille Scherre, who’s also a DJ and lingerie designer. We wanted to bring to life the female character’s experience. One way we could do that was taking a lot of shots that represent how she feels in sex. Those are likely to be shots you won’t see in straight porn since it’s oriented towards men. We tried to take close-ups of when she’s touching his hair and ears and meld that all together so it feels like one continuous experience and you feel their relationship in a broader, closer way. The most important decision was to make it feel like real time. We wondered if it would make us feel closer as viewers to her experience.

Rumpus: The movie has a sweetness to it in all the touching and affection. Those are the telling details that make it clear they love each other. Somewhere I read that in looking at erotic images men are more likely to look at faces first, then genitals, which I thought was interesting and unexpected.

Bell: If you’re looking to understand how someone feels in a certain situation, the look on their face tells you a tremendous amount that can make you feel connected to that person. In traditional porn, men’s faces are largely absent. We see the woman’s face and body and genitals but we don’t see much of his body, and we definitely don’t see his face. But I want to. I miss it. In moments where characters go through a change where they get much more aroused I don’t want to be looking at their body parts but the reaction in their faces.

Rumpus: What movies inspire you?

Bell: Larry Clark’s films, hands down. He has a real feel for how complicated sex can be and that there are different kinds of arousal that being anxious or nervous and how those negative emotions can play in an erotic way. I really love how he has focused on that and made it the emotional centerpiece of his work, showing how sex is so much more than intercourse. He’s particularly interested in adolescents because at that age we don’t have words yet for everything we’re going through, and that makes it a really volatile and exciting time. I’m interested in those same phenomena for people of all ages. Sex is much more complicated and dynamic and electric than it looks on film. I also love Lars von Trier’s movies and how they show people pushing their own boundaries. I love the idea of incorporating that electricity of boundary pushing into my erotic filmmaking. I’d like to think everyone who’s worked on my films has a positive experience. I’ve never had anyone have a nervous breakdown like Bjork was reported to on his, but I respect that he’s not making a simple easy film. He’s throwing his whole self into making it and he expects his actors to do the same.

Rumpus: So how do you balance being married and having a kid, with making sexy movies? You don’t look or act like you have a dual life.

Bell: People always say to me, ‘You don’t look like someone who makes erotic films. I expected someone to be wearing a leather outfit or a vinyl bustier,’ but that taps into what I really want to be saying about sex. There aren’t sex people and non-sex people. Sex is part of everybody’s life and that you can be incredibly sexual and wear a flowered dress. Also making a film of any kind puts you in a vulnerable position. Well, I feel vulnerable making erotic movies because they have to be sexy to me. Each one is like saying this is what I personally find sexy. That’s scary for me even now.

Rumpus: Yeah, I was a stripper but don’t want to write about it in my fiction because I’m uncomfortable with people thinking that was/is/could be me. And, I don’t really like talking about my own sexuality partly because I have a hard enough time not judging myself for it. So, how have you gone beyond that?

Bell: I spend a lot of time managing my boundaries. I need to feel free and comfortable working with my actors and writing my scripts and doing the things that I need to do to make a movie that’s moving and exciting to me. I often spend months building up relationships with the actors. On set there are also all these fine gradations that I’ve learned to manage where someone says, well, how do you feel about – anal sex, say? Or, if someone says, how do you feel about sex doggie-style? I have to be careful to separate out my feelings about whether doggie-style sex makes sense in this film from how I feel about it in all erotic films and how I personally feel in my own bedroom. It’s a balancing act that can come down to a pronoun or else talking to fewer people at one time. Everyone on set has a different comfort level but I have to be able to talk about sex bluntly, and I have to respect my partner’s privacy too. Like, he may or may not want me talking about sex in a way that exposes him and his feelings.

Rumpus: Respecting a partner is one thing but you have a daughter? Wait, I didn’t mean that to sound like I’m shocked. At some point you’re going to have to have a discussion with her though.

Bell: I feel really lucky to have the opportunity to practice what I preach and raise a daughter who’s sex positive. I think I make the kind of films that I’m proud to stand behind. I think they say something good about sex and the way sex really is, and I hope to raise her with open and body-positive attitudes and to talk when the time is right about what I do and she’ll appreciate that.

Meeting with Mike Triolo is a bit like stepping into It’s A Wonderful Life. Not because it’s Christmastime, and he certainly doesn’t look like Jimmy Stewart. Instead Triolo is the small-town banker working to help his community.

More than just one town, however, he’s been working for the entire region. Until this week, he’s been the Catskill Watershed Corporation’s (CWC) Economic Development Director, a job he’s held for the past nine years.

He came to the CWC from a background in small rural banks where he served several banks in a number of roles including president and chief financial officer. Having been reelected in November, he is also the supervisor of the Town of Stamford. He still lives in the house, just up the Back River Road from South Kortright, where he grew up, raised his own kids – and worked the family dairy farm, selling most of the land when it came time to retool.

“The kids didn’t want anything to do with it, and I looked at my hands and had all 10 fingers.” He wiggles them as he speaks, “And said that’s enough.” Far from the tall, rangy Stewart, Triolo is soft spoken, dressed in Dockers and a checked shirt, with balding hair that befits his age.

He came to the CWC thinking he could make a difference, and, no doubt he has if you see what he’s funded. There’ve been companies who make goalposts for football fields (their posts have been in the Super Bowl), a microbrewery, a distillery and a hairdresser, plus more than a few B&Bs. Since he started, the CWC’s business loan portfolio has grown from $8 million to $48 million. Reading the business plans and tax returns that companies submit with their loan applications has given him a unique perspective on the region. Add to that his job as supervisor and his farming background, and

Triolo is an authority on the region’s economy.
He calls making loans, “an art not a science.” As he speaks you can almost see George Bailey himself.

“We’re builders,” he says. With the amount of money they’ve lent, “We certainly have been a key instrument in the economy of the Watershed.” The CWC though has a limited pool. There is only $59.7 million so he has to treat the money responsibly. The only way they can keep lending is for the existing loans to be repaid – and not written off.

Serving big region
The CWC serves part of five counties west of the Hudson, and while he says there’s no universal truth for the region’s economy, there’s not even a “monolithic economy” in Delaware County. “It’s the state’s second or third poorest area,” he explains, “depending on the year” – topped only by The Bronx. The western part has a larger farming and manufacturing base with a thousand manufacturing jobs in Hobart and Stamford alone. The Route 28 corridor is primarily a second homeowner and tourism economy. “In all honesty,” he sighs, “those jobs aren’t the highest paying.”

What he doesn’t have to say is they’re also often only seasonal and rarely come with benefits.
He describes the area as “stably depressed,” something of an irony, and says our economy here will start to grow once the second homeowners start to feel a bit more comfortable financially. There are bright spots, he insists, “glimmers of hope,” he calls them across the county like Delhi-based Clark Companies, which builds sports fields. It’s grown by developing business outside the region, while its employees still live locally.

Another growth area? Farming. Yes, agriculture is a key economic driver. The dairy industry continues to suffer where a two to three percent fluctuation can drive prices radically and producers compete against a national market when it comes to milk.

Many ingredients
But, other products like cold weather crops from cauliflower to kale and locally produced beef, maple syrup and cheese all are important.

He reaches for a wrapped piece of cheddar from Palatine Bridge on his desk. “You have to be able to transition from selling milk with a regular paycheck to making cheese where it takes six months to age, but eventually producers who do, make a pretty substantial living.”

Healthcare too is growing. “Clinics are opening with doctors in Delhi, Walton and here in Margaretville. Those jobs are above the county average wage and come with benefits.”
Still employers can have problems attracting staff from outside the region thanks to issues ranging from schools to culture, shopping and even housing.

“People seem to want those new” (and he shakes his head as he says this) “2,500 to 3,000 foot homes built in the last 10 years.”

What pains Triolo most as he prepares to leave his job is the flood.

“The economy had survived the recession fairly well, that is until August 28. Since, it’s been a battle.”

Lots of funding
The CWC has made $5 million available in grant money with more than $2 million of it out in the community. “But,” he says, “it’s depressing.” He has a harrowed looked on his face as he describes the outlook now. This is his fourth major disaster.

“In my experience at least a quarter, if not more, of these businesses will not survive.” The statistic is stark and when asked what people can do, he says, “If nine million people drinking water from the Catskills each gave a dollar, that would be $9 million for flood recovery.” As he describes it, it sounds as hopeful as It’s A Wonderful Life. Maybe, if a bell rang every time someone turned on a tap in New York City.

“Welcome to the Grand Canyon.” Laszlo Vajtay waves towards the gaping hole at the top of Plattekill Mountain. The cliffs below, with their walls of rock, dwarf the ski area’s owner and even the Komatsu excavator behind him. Sixty feet deep, the “canyon” is not some folly on the top of the mountain. It’s a new pond to hold water for snowmaking.

Usually this time of year ski areas are making (and praying for) snow, and while that’s true for Plattekill too, they’re thinking more long range – a whole year out – to the 2012-2013 season. That’s when the pond will be done. Building it has taken 100,000 pounds of explosives, and the wires to ignite the charges still stick out of the rock, not far from where Vajtay stands.
For years he’d wanted to expand the pond, but the project was daunting and expensive. Since he bought the ski area in 1993 he’s kept adding snowmaking capacity.

All about snowmaking
“Snowmaking, snowmaking, snowmaking has always been my mantra,” he says like realtors talk location, location, location, and indeed snowmaking is key to making ski areas in the Northeast a success.

But the problem for Plattekill has been a lack of water. Come August 28, like much of the region, they had a new water problem. Too much of it. While the base and lodge were largely spared in the flood, some trails suffered from erosion and the pond was damaged.

“It needed repairing, so that was a natural time to increase the size,” Vajtay says. He worked closely with the DEP on permits and plans, and, he explains, “We reached out to friends of ours in the business and in construction to see what to do.”

Now Plattekill has one of the few good things Irene has produced – the canyon, which is so big it will take two years to complete.

The pond has come with other added benefits. The rock from it has been used to stabilize trails that washed out and is responsible for a new parking lot at Plattekill’s base, expanding the hill’s smallish lot to accommodate far more cars so skiers no longer have to make a long trek to the lodge on busy days.

Materials help out
Even the road to get trucks to the top to build the pond has been a bonus. It widened Powder Puff, the two-mile-long beginner trail, ringing the mountain. Perhaps the most fortuitous side effect, though, has been for area flood relief itself. The stone is going to help local road crews and for repairs to the Gilboa Dam.

Though the pond won’t be fully functional until next year, Plattekill is still benefitting from the “canyon” this season. Recently a team at the top of the hill was welding pipes so the pond can be used now. They’ll be removed in the spring to finish the project. The new pond isn’t the only expansion at Plattekill either.

Finding a double purpose for everything is part of how Plattekill makes ends meet. The ski industry works on tight margins. It’s an expensive business between insurance, energy costs and snowmaking. Add to that fickle weather and customers, and it can be a challenging business — particularly for small mom-and-pop hills. Many over the past two decades have gone out of business, but Vajtay has found ways to keep growing, and this season has been no different. He’s already acquired 45 additional snow guns. Some came from Stratton, others from Big Tupper and HKD, a large East Coast snowmaking company.

Boston imports
“There are even two big turbine fan guns,” Vajtay says incredulously, “from Amesbury Snow Park just outside Boston.”

He can grow like this because he works hard to find bargains, searching out used equipment to give it new life. He’ll drive across the Northeast himself to pick up parts and bring them back to Roxbury.
“In a business like this,” he says, “you can’t afford to sit on a huge amount of debt. If you borrow money based on the cash value of the business in a year like this year –” his voice trails off. He doesn’t need to finish his sentence to make it clear that you wouldn’t make it. Indeed the warm weather has been hurting ski areas from Pennsylvania to Maine.

Finding new uses
The most surprising addition to his snowmaking arsenal was finding a new, used air compressor. The Norbord fiberboard plant in Deposit closed and the building was being torn down. “They were selling off the compressors,” he says. Not just useful in making medium density fiberboard, they’re essential in snowmaking. This summer he repurposed one and installed it on the hill.

“It will,” he explains, “be great for Plattekill. Not only will it replace three diesel generators but it will make us more green, save us money on expensive diesel and make us less dependent on fossil fuels.”

Before the pond... and the 100k in explosives.

See that light through the trees? Just follow it like the 3 Wise Men and the star.

Okay so we’re looking on the bright side here at WITC. There isn’t much snow on the ground, but that makes it easy to pick (and cut) your own Christmas tree. We went up on our land with a saw—not even a chainsaw and hiked half a mile in and half a mile out with two trees, including one that was more Charlie Brown’s Christmas than perfect. Now you could do that too, or go to places like Robson’s tree farm in Bovina, or out on your own piece of land and pick one, but there are some tips I’d follow:

1. Check out the size of your space. Or read this from last week’s NY Times. The truth is sobering, and the article's name says it all: The Holiday Gaffes That Keep On Giving.

2. Bow saw. Christmas is a time when no one wants to visit ER. Unless you know how to use a chainsaw stick to a bow saw. Slower = safer. No need to act all macho in the woods.

3. If you can’t find a small enough tree (It can be tricky out there, and in the wild, they're bigger than they appear. No ceilings for one. Or walls.), then cut it further up and it might even regrow. Think of it as two-for-one.

Looks just like a J Crew catalogue...

4. When you’re picking your tree, remember that pack-it-in, pack-it-out rule. Aka, the tree has to get to the street to your car. Remember that if it’s heavy. And you have young children with you who might be getting cold. Or restless. For that matter bring some cocoa along too. In case you get cold.

5. Get it in water as soon as possible and keep watering it often. This keeps the needles on the boughs.

Everyone yell, "Timber!"

6. Pride yourself on your savings. Just remember the tree you’ve cut in the woods costs a fraction of that $300 tree in the City. And this being the spirit of the season, maybe donate the savings to a good cause. Like flood victims.

7. Remember to feel good about yourself for another reason: Picking your own Christmas tree is an awesome moment of family togetherness, witness this week’s pictures. Thank you to Nick and Shyama, David and Norm and Miriam.

Bri George at Platty on Halloween. Now that is a treat.

That’s what I’ve been thinking about winter – the snow gods are having some big bad practical joke. It’s December 7^thand the only snow of any consequence came for Halloween which now seems more trick than treat. Though Plattekill opened for a day (check out the picture by Bri George) and I went snowshoeing…

But now that winter is kicking in today, tonight, with some 7-10 for the Western Catskills. So, WITC is officially in action. This season we will be talking about how to make your own ice skating pond, ice fishing – and following my quest for cocoa. The search is a bit like Lord Of The Rings but less dangerous and unfortunately come with no Viggo Mortensen (though none too shabby Alan Cumming does ski Platty). My search is also more tasty than LOTR. Last year it took me to Alta where I had great cocoa and saw a sundog (a feat of nature worthy of Lord of the Rings).

This year Platty, which is redesigning its menus focusing on local homemade food in the cafeteria and bistro/bar upstairs is also adding a cappuccino machine, has promised me fancy cocoa. Nagging sometimes pays off. Belgian chocolate, here I come.

I recently asked Macker what he was doing to get ready for opening day. His answer? "Drinking a lot of beer." And not the craft ale you find in the bar. He's a Bud and Marlborough man through and through. I've also seen his long lists of things to do, pipes to lay and pumps to move, but there will be more on this in my next post as Platty builds the Grand Canyon of the Catskills.

With snow expected tonight I assume everyone will be out this weekend. Except, um, me. I will be celebrating my mom’s b-day. Mom WITC does not live near a ski hill – perhaps why I was a late-adopter. Also this year for WITC I will learn to snowmobile, but that is in part for the pursuit of fiction. There are a number of snowmobiles in the start of the novel I’m working on. Better I learn to snowmobile than how to kill someone which is also at the start of the book. Welcome to WITC 2011-2012.Me snowshoeing on halloween. Note the bright colors. I am not small game

Bovina's creamery in 1946

Here from this week's CMN the other article about dining doing good... You'll also be able to drink the cider the News's Dick Sanford made (I made a meager contribution of less than a bushel of apples) at Hubbell's this fall.

This Saturday, Dec. 3, a fund-raiser and farm dinner in Bovina will support the community’s public library and celebrate local pride and farm produce.

With a shortfall in its budget and an endowment that’s suffering in the current economy, library officials got to thinking about how to raise money, librarian Marge Miller explained. Soon, the idea was far more than a fund-raiser; it became the Holiday Farm Feast, a rallying point for the community and an opportunity to show off local products. December might not be the time of year when people think of fresh produce, but Bovina makes everything from bread to beer (yes, in the dry town) as well as beef, pork, poultry and dairy.

Working together
Farming Bovina is working with the library on the event. A new nonprofit, it was founded earlier this year to support farming in the area. As president Evelyn Stewart explains, “We’re here to help farms with sustainability from value added products and help with building to funding and writing grants to keep people farming.”

She runs Sunflower Farm, a dairy farm that’s been in her family for three generations. “Farming is the backbone of a local economy,” she says. “With a strong farming community there’s a strong economy because farmers typically spend all their money locally from buying grains to hiring help.”
With only three dairy farmers left, the town now has seven or eight others raising beef and a couple raising sheep and goats and a few doing crops.

“There’s a greater interest,” Stewart says, “in farming now and keeping farms here and keeping them working. They give Bovina its character and people don’t want them going away.” Bovina, as the name suggests, was once famous for its cows and dairy – even supplying the White House with butter – and is hoping to again. One of the first things Farming Bovina is thinking about doing is building a small creamery to capitalize on its history and make butter similar to how Cowbella did for the Danforth family in Jefferson. Looking for a way to keep their family farm sustainable into the seventh generation, they started making butter and yogurt and are now a local-farm success story.

Farm supporter
Miller, who is also the Town of Middletown supervisor-elect, supports the growth of area farms.
“They provide a more sustainable future,” she says,” and encourage preserving our local land. They’re also good for the local economy and communicating our values and communities outside the Catskills.”

The dinner, which will be served from 5 to 8 p.m. at the Bovina Town Hall on Main Street, will feature pork, short ribs, chicken, cheese and bread from local farms and producers.
“Bovina used to do an annual community dinner before Christmas,” Miller says, “so the idea is to resurrect that, and turn this into an annual event.”

Grant assistance
She is also hoping for a large turnout. The library has had a grant from the O’Conner foundation and needs $2,500 in matching funds – which translates to around 200 people coming out to eat local and celebrate farms on Saturday.

Tickets for adults are $12 in advance or $15 at the door. Tickets for kids are $6 and $7. Tickets are available at the Bovina Public Library or at Russell’s Store in Bovina or by calling 607 832-4884. Live entertainment featuring Hilt and Stella Kelly, Story Laurie and others will begin at 6:30 p.m.
Click here for more info on Farming Bovina.

Uncle Bob with cauliflower (from Farming Bovina)

 Before and after at RSK

Thanksgiving this year at the Peekamoose restaurant in Big Indian was a big affair: 200 pounds of turkey, some 20 pounds of cranberries, another 20 pounds each of Brussels sprouts and rutabagas and 240 individuals pies (80 pumpkin, 80 apple and 80 chocolate bourbon pecan), and that’s not counting the potatoes or squash or beets or trout or pork.

All that food, though, wasn’t simply to serve the 200 guests the restaurant was expecting but also to help one of its key suppliers, RSK Farms owner Bob Kiley. Over the eight years since the restaurant opened he has not just provided them with produce (including potatoes about which owner Marybeth Mills swoons) but become a close family friend. And the reason he needs assistance? Hurricane Irene.

Farm was destroyed
His entire farm in Prattsville was wiped out, and in the true spirit of Thanksgiving, the Peekamoose’s proprietors, Devin and Marybeth Mills, wanted to give thanks and help out. They donated all proceeds from the evening to Kiley and his family. Even the staff gave their time. “They all volunteered to come in and work for free,” Marybeth says.

“They have children and their own families, but still they wanted to be here.” The so-called Table to Farm Dinner raised more than $4,000 for RSK.

On the day before Thanksgiving the kitchen was humming – literally. Christmas tunes played and four people were slicing and dicing, roasting cipollini onions, peeling apples and potatoes and roasting nuts. Among the helpers was Bob Kiley himself. He peeled all 20 pounds of rutabagas singlehandedly not to mention the other prep work. He was in the kitchen because he wasn’t comfortable with accepting charity, Devin explains, and describes his friend as soft spoken and proud and not easy with asking for or accepting assistance.

Kitchen labor
“Eight hours in the kitchen is hard work even if you are a farmer,” Devin explains. “If you’re not used to it, just standing on the tile floors that long will kill you.” He wanted to give Kiley a stool, but he wouldn’t even sit, lest he become less helpful.

Marybeth says about the fund-raiser, “We just wanted to do something to help, and we cook, we do food, so we did Thanksgiving.” Kiley had lost everything he’d ever worked for. “Where there were 12 acres of prime arable land,” she explains, “there’s now river rock. I can’t imagine not simply losing everything but it also being irreplaceable with no chance of fixing it.”

Devin shakes his head and says, “All he was left with was his house and farm stand and still he was grateful. Every year farmers face hardships. Nature’s against them and yet they keep doing it, and you have to wonder how. But the reason is they love it. Bob loves farming.”

Marybeth adds that Kiley is someone fighting to preserve heirloom produce varieties. “When McDonalds is out there saying everything has to be a bland Idaho potato, Bob is out there driving bushels of rare breed potatoes for miles to restaurants on $4 gas because he wants to keep these rare varieties going.”

While the Peekamoose does a Thanksgiving dinner each year, this is the first one that’s ever sold out at the restaurant. “To be honest it’s never been our biggest day,” Marybeth explains. “We usually do just one seating, but we’re doing two and they sold out more than two weeks ago.” Some people who couldn’t come made donations to RSK Farm, and others paid and said to give their spots to someone who needs a meal out.

Very grateful
When reached on the phone a couple days later, Kiley said, “I feel humbled by the whole thing. It’s not a position I really know how to be in.” He grasps for words to describe the dinner and generosity. “But Devin and Marybeth and my other customers have been great. It gives you the energy to carry on. When you take a reality check, it’s difficult to imagine and to take a hard look at things. It’s tough not just for me but the whole community and town.” In his understated way, he adds “And having the dinner on Thanksgiving was a little emotional for me.”

Click here for more information on RSK Farm.

The Woodman as it once was.

London, England — More than 3,000 miles from Margaretville, a couple wants to save Middletown’s businesses. Jeff and Indrani Tomasi live in London but love Margaretville and have a home just outside the village.

After the flood they helped establish the Small Business Development Fund in conjunction with the MARK Project. So far they’ve raised more than $200,000 but are committed to raise at least $800,000, Jeff explains. A Goldman Sachs partner, he and Indrani now sit in a pub in Highgate on quiz night, and the two answer questions about both the fund as well as trivia and current events for the pub quiz.

The first part of the fund began taking monthly applications earlier in November to distribute grants of up to $5,000 to help small businesses with flood damage. So far, Jeff explains, the applications have come from a variety of businesses from retail and restaurants to golf courses. “We’re seeing people who need help with structural repairs but more than that who need help replacing inventory that either got damaged in the flood, or else that they can’t afford new inventory for the holidays.”

The next part of the project is more ambitious and is slated to start early next year. While the details are still being worked out, the plan is to distribute between $20,000 and $50,000 in a combination of grants and low interest loans to small businesses, partnering them with mentors to help with everything from writing business plans to merchandising and establishing marketing plans. As Jeff explains, “We want the program to be more than flood relief, but if places are just barely hanging on, we first need to make sure they are around to help.”

He’s quiet with clipped hair and the intense look of a long-distance runner, while Indrani has warm eyes and an infectious laugh. The two have lived in London since 2003. They moved a year-and-a-half after buying their Margaretville house. She explains, “We’re there for only a short time each year, but it’s shaped our sense of community and home. Margaretville feels like our home for a lifetime.” They still mourn the café across from the school in its incarnation three restaurants ago, before it was Harry’s or even the Café de Paris. Part of what the couple wants is stability and success for businesses here.

MARK Project Executive Director Peg Ellsworth has been talking to the Tomasis at least twice a week as the project launches and says, “I’ve found them both to be genuine and non-pretentious people who really care about the community. They want to give back, and we see the project growing and growing. It’s not just out there for six months but going to get bigger and better.” She says she’d like to see it build into an example for rural development across the region.

One of the donors, another second-homeowner named Joe Perez says, “We don’t want Route 28 to be a string of Burger Kings and Dunkin Donuts. We want it to maintain its dignity and vitality. It would be great if Margaretville became a poster child for knowing how to stay viable and true to its basic traditions.” Perez works for Goya Foods in both Spain and New Jersey and is in Spain as we speak. With the Tomasis and Perez both overseas, the project is almost like a European bailout for Middletown at a time when there’s so much financial unrest in Europe itself.

Questions about Prince William and the new Italian prime minister are broadcast over the pub’s PA, and Jeff makes a euro note out of Playdough as he talks. (Sculpting someone in the news is part of the quiz, and given the state of the currency, the euro seems particularly apt if not an actual person). He explains that the fund will be part of his company’s charitable program, Goldman Sachs Gives, and thus benefit from its resources as well as how employees collaborate on each other’s causes. “It’s a great way to get people to help in areas they might not otherwise,” he says and adds that he and Indrani had long wanted to do something to help local businesses and the flood provided the catalyst.

The couple have given anonymously in the community before to groups like the library and are nervous now about becoming public figures. “We don’t want Main Street to become a ghost town,” Indrani says, and Jeff adds, “But we also don’t want to dictate what businesses are there or what Main Street looks like. We’re leery of this being some central planning exercise or the village becoming just a tourist community.” They see Margaretville as far more vital than serving simply second homeowners. “We want it to have local pride and independence. Hopefully this will spark people into really investing in and shopping with Main Street businesses. If people are complacent, Main Street will slip away.”

Editor’s note: Catskill Mountain News writer Jennifer Kabat was traveling in London when she interviewed Jeff and Indrani Tomasi for this story.

The Woodman today -- you should see the pub carpets...

Photo by Brandon Harmon

I might be hanging out in the London fog -- and light rain and chill but my heart is in the hills and this week in the Catskill Mountain News I got to write about Steve Koester and his fine music as frontman of Two Dark Birds...

 Can I just say I love this cover? Total Peter Saville meets the Hudson River School. Though for the record the Thomas Cole painting is in Northampton, MA....

Moving to Arkville was a conversion experience of sorts for singer-songwriter Steve Koester. He found himself in nature and got a sense of peace. He’s also well aware that he’s hardly the only person to have that experience.

“A lot of people come from the city and get a chain saw and get one with nature,” he laughs. He is also, though, prone to such life-changing moments. One even happened in a grocery store when he heard Crosby Stills & Nash’s ‘Guinnevere’ anew. “I was standing in the aisle and just floored by the song. The harmony and structure is amazing,” he says, “but as a kid I’d have thought it ridiculous.”
Koester is the frontman of the band “Two Dark Birds.” Their second album has been praised by everyone from fashion magazines like Nylon and Men’s Vogue to the influential CMJ (College Music Journal) as well as on the blogs where indie rock idols are now birthed.

Mountain home
This morning he’s sitting in his kitchen nestled into the side of Pakatakan Mountain. The snow hasn’t melted yet, and he’s wearing an orange ski vest, gesturing wide with his arms as if embracing a globe as he talks. A turntable (yes, a turntable in 2011) spins on the counter next to him as he describes his move and his new record. “Moving here,” he says, “had a profound impact on me and on the music. The album’s subtext is about going from the city and feeling cut off and burnt out to reconnecting with the natural world again.”

“Two Dark Birds” has, as he puts it, “That kind of Catskills sound—Dylan, “The Band” and early Van Morrison. It’s that combination of acoustic, folk and soul. Using those elements just makes sense up here, but we didn’t want it to seem like it’s 1971.”

His bluesy voice gives a roots’ feel to the music. It could be described as part Glen Campbell countrypolitan with a dash of “REM” and even Waylon Jennings. (“Pie-eyed,” Koester says of the album’s third track, “is my Waylon song.”)

Paid his dues
He has toiled long in the trenches of indie rock from punk bands in his youth to self-fronted ones, and his music has been in Nike ads, movies like Sidney Lumet’s “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead,” even on TV on Bravo this fall.

In 2002 he and a few friends formed Maplewood. The band had a self-consciously ’70s sound that was in part an homage to the groups like America. While the group’s beginning was ironic, America then praised Maplewood and toured with them, even covering a Maplewood song. Now. that ’70s sensibility has shaped “Two Dark Birds.” The new album even has big string arrangements and a horn section, both of which surprised Koester when he found himself heading in that direction.

Family life
He arrived to Arkville in 2007, soon after his daughter was born. “All our money and time went to keep her in daycare. It just made no sense,” he explains. “After a decade in the city, my favorite place was Fort Green Park.” He’d find himself there staring at trees. So he and his wife picked up sticks, and that move and his daughter shaped his music. Now Delaware County and more specifically Middletown have inspired songs like “Ryder Hollow.” The album’s opening song “Closer To Water,” literally came from, as he explains it, “Being on the mountain in springtime and watching how water comes down off the side.” He gets embarrassed describing that sense of interconnectedness the moment produced.

Daughter honored
Koester knows such sentiments or writing songs about the joys of fatherhood are hardly cool, but he ignored that to make music that felt like it reflected him now including his “Song For Clementine.” It’s clearly a love letter to his daughter Iris. Her middle name is Clementine, and she appears in the video.

Soon the band will be shooting the album’s second video “Black Blessed Night” here and in New York City with the members dressed as blackbirds and even dancing, with professional choreography by the award-winning tap dancer Michelle Dorrance. Koester describes the song as being like a poem by Poe or Longfellow. At its base is the idea of escaping in nature and finding something much bigger than yourself, he explains.

His own journey
While he knows he’s hardly the first person to come to the Catskills seeking that kind of transcendence, he’s well aware of the larger lineage of artists who’ve come here with that in mind. In his music there’s a sense of connection to that same spirit many have found here from the Hudson River School painters to John Burroughs.

Julia Greene puts Marge in Charge

Local, small-town life comes with many charms. One being that what you write actually matters to the readers and you hear from those readers. They will call you. And forgive you. Or tell you their opinion. You can too. There's a place for comments below.

Joe signs

This year there will be what amounts to an historic election in the Town of Middletown, not simply because of the recent flood, but also because of a wholesale shift in town government, with both the long-serving incumbent town clerk and supervisor retiring. For the first time in years there are four candidates, and none is running with a party affiliation.

The choice of a new town supervisor also has implications at the county government level. The supervisor represents Middletown in the county government. He or she becomes a member of the county board of supervisors, which functions much like the board of directors of a large corporation. The supervisors manage the county’s budget; which will approach $100 million in 2012.

That budget is, in large part, fed by local property taxes, and the supervisors help decide how that money is apportioned. There are also several committees and other boards, like the Catskill Watershed Corporation and the Coalition of Watershed Towns, on which Middletown’s supervisor may well sit, helping to steer a future that in the wake of Tropical Storm Irene is anything but secure.

The News interviewed all the candidates extensively, asking follow-up questions and clarifications on issues from taxes, tourism and revenue to their vision for Middletown now.
Those interviews, in name alphabetical order, follow.

Wayd Jaquish
Wayd Jaquish could be called the ghost candidate. He’s been the least visible in the race. Many people didn’t even know he was running until the debate last week, and when asked what he’s doing to prepare for the job, he’s honest – to a fault. “I haven’t been doing my homework to put it bluntly,” he says. “Right at the moment I’ve been too busy.”

He’s sitting behind the register at Jaquish Appliances on a slow Saturday with no calls or visitors. Hints of tattoos peek out from his T-Shirt, with his arms on the counter. There’s ink for all his children. The oldest son represented with calligraphy for love, devotion, wealth and Aquarius, and the youngest two with a dragon and princess.

Low-key campaign
With his Amish-style beard and wire glasses he has an almost 19th-century look, and it’s impossible to learn much of his campaign – or himself – online. He hasn’t signed up for Facebook. All you find through Google is a Spalding Gray video for HBO. The actor did a film on his upstate home where Wayd’s father installed the appliances. In the movie young Wayd repeats everything his dad says, because he’d heard it so many times. “That was my two minutes of fame,” he laughs.

As he talks about the campaign, Wayd repeats frequently the phrase, “our part of the world,” and “this part of the world” – instead of calling it Middletown or Delaware County or even the Catskills. The way he says it, the phrase has an almost studied cadence that gives him a preacherly air that seems in keeping with the Amish beard and wire glasses.

He grew up here, went to MCS, graduating in 1995, and went on to do a cram course in refrigeration, air conditioning and appliances, then came back to take his place in the family business. He decided to run originally because of his real estate tax assessment.

“I wanted to be in the supervisor position to get information,” he explains. “They just came through and assessed me at $158,000. Nobody looked at the place. Where did they come up with that? I want an understanding of how they did that and why.”

Now he’s in the race because he’s unhappy with issues in the Watershed. He studies his hands and coughs, clearing his throat. “I’m not happy with the influences going on in our part of the world. You have more hoops and battles and rigmarole. The more I get into the politics and listen to people around the countryside, it’s clear they just don’t want us here.”

The “they” in question are, of course, the city and its Department of Environmental Protection, but Wayd doesn’t have a solution. “I haven’t been in the game long enough to see the players,” he says.

“I haven’t been going to the meetings. I really don’t have the answer at this moment because I really don’t think there is an answer. I don’t think there is a fix.”

He wants to serve to give back to his community. “This town has given me everything I’ve ever had, and everything I’ve ever worked for has been in this town. This town is my whole entire life.” When asked what makes him qualified, he turns the question around and asks, “What needs to be the qualifications to put a person in this position? It’s a position on the board and the everyday goings on and overseeing the budget. Seventy to eighty percent of it goes to the garage,” he explains and says that alone makes him qualified. “Knowing what work goes on there and what maintenance is involved in running trucks and equipment up and down the road, that’s what I do,” he says proudly.

“I service my own equipment and work on smaller equipment and know what maintenance is involved. That’s pretty much what a supervisor does.”

Asked about his vision for Middletown, he isn’t long on specifics, not yet at least. “It’s hard to determine, what can go on in this part of the world without knowing who you have to go through and who’d put money in certain projects.” One project he’d like to do is at the septic plant, where he sees a possibility of algae production for biofuel.

“It’s –” he glances at a clipboard, flipping through the pages until he finds the number – “one acre of algae can produce 100,000 gallons of fuel. Whereas corn is around 20 gallons. The septic can take all the gray water and run it through where the greenhouses were. They were completely set up to produce algae and create profits for the sewer plant,” his voice rises as he talks. “I’m looking at any alternative that could benefit the system.” That includes windmills, which he thinks should be back on the agenda.

“Basically, he says, “the reason I’m taking on this job is to bring a little more common sense into the picture and try to talk to people and say ‘why not? Why can’t we do these things?’”

Marge Miller
There’s little Marge Miller hasn’t done to prepare for the job of supervisor. She’s met with supervisors ranging from Len Utter and Tom Hynes to those further afield like Tina Mole, Keitha Capouya and Jim Eisel who’s chairman of the county board of supervisors. The 15-minute meeting he’d promised her extended to more than an hour. She’s studied budgets, attended town and village board meetings, read the entire Comprehensive Plan (the complex one, at that, before it was simplified). She’s met with the town clerk, secretary and building code officer, as well as both current and former highway superintendents to understand how their budget, which is some 70-80 percent of the town’s total expenditure, works.

John Biruk, the current superintendent, says, “She’s the only candidate to willingly come see me looking for answers about how it works.” She’s studied the census data, registered voters and gone house to house to meet constituents. She’s even read the New York State Comptroller’s Handbook for Local Government. Never the most exciting read, it details the responsibilities and limits of the job, including “being,” as the book puts it, “the chief receiver of concerns and complaints.”

The level of detail in her preparation is more akin to what candidates do for state or national office, not a local part-time position. Sitting outside her house on a sunny afternoon in a Yankees cap and clogs, Miller breathlessly recounts all the research. Her dedication gives her a wonkish edge, a bit like Hillary Clinton, who she resembles with her big round eyes.

“There was an urgency,” she explains, “even before the flood. This community has needed long-range planning and it can’t come from outside.” Not that any of the candidates are outsiders, but having lived in the city, she insists she’s best able to unite everyone from long-standing residents to second homeowners.

She moved back in 2001 after working as an actress in Manhattan and serving as head of her co-op board. She returned to help care for her aging parents, and soon also got involved with MCS, subbing and coaching tennis and the drama club. She now serves as the Bovina librarian as well.

“Doing something to help my community is what matters to me, not playing the cheerleading coach on some afterschool special,” she shakes her head. “Is that going to change anyone’s lives?”
She owns property in the city, which provides her income. “I’m lucky,” she says, “I have the freedom to do what I think is important here.” This means that though the job is officially part-time with a part-time salary, she can devote as much time to it as it requires.

The supervisor’s duties include serving on the county board and sitting on its various committees. The more time the supervisor has, the more committees he or she can serve on, and the more influence he or she can have. Supervisors often serve on boards like the Catskill Watershed Corporation or the Coalition of Watershed Towns, which are important in lobbying for their towns.

The job’s duties leak far beyond attending to town issues, and Miller wants to sit on the county board’s Watershed Committee as well as the Finance Committee. “That is where the county budget is divvied up,” she says. “You have to earn that spot. It’s given to those with the time and experience. So,” she asks, how much can you give if you’re just a part-time worker?” She also sees the job as working with and lobbying for local groups from non-profits to the school and going to village board meetings to stay on top of town issues.

One of her core concerns is affordable housing. “After coming back,” she says, “you could see the scale of the transfer of land into the hands of people who don’t live here fulltime, who don’t,” as she puts it, “‘do the working and living and dying and the raising of kids’ here.” She’s quoting another Clinton, not Hillary but Bill. “We need to make sure there is affordable housing. We need a permanent local population who work here and staff the fire departments – all the jobs that are so important to a community. If we don’t have places for them to live or opportunity for them here, how can we keep them?”

After the flood she says it’s imperative to have low-income housing out of the floodplain, but she also stresses that jobs are key from the Crossroads Resort to local farms. “They employ people and are good for the environment.” They also, she explains, serve as ambassadors for the region through farmers’ markets.

Such advocacy is central to her campaign. “We have plenty of New York City money advocating for the city’s interests but most New Yorkers don’t have a clue where their water comes from.” She wants to put our case not simply to the New York City Department of Environmental Protection, but to the larger downstate population so they see themselves as stakeholders in the Watershed and its success, from avoiding flooding to supporting farming and tourism.

Another major concern of hers is the two percent property tax cap, which she
calls daunting. “In talking to Tina Mole,” she explains, “Bovina’s allowable budget increase with the two percent cap amounted to $8,000 but their health care costs went up $14,000, so what do they cut? The highway crew? What do we cut in that case?” She knows the question is unpopular, particularly in an election year, but just like everything else with her campaign, she’s not shying away from bringing it up.

Joe Moskowitz
Joe Moskowitz holds court in Casey Joe’s, his coffee shop at the corner of routes 28 and 38 in Arkville. Over the years it has served as roller rink, dance hall, farm supply, and is now centerpiece of his Arkville revival. He talks proudly of how the barn-red buildings have transformed the area.

“The concentration of Jack’s,” he says, plus his new tenant, “the Cha Cha Hut, the auction, Casey Joe’s and Donatello’s Pizza complete my long-range plan going back to when I was a kid of turning the middle of Arkville into a dining and entertainment destination.”

With the Cha Cha Hut moving into Casey Joe’s, he’ll have time for the job of supervisor if he wins and won’t be working, “90 hours a week,” as he puts it. Though today it’s quiet. FedEx drops off a package and an older couple buying cookies asks when the Bun N’ Cone might reopen.

Moskowitz first ran for supervisor in 2005, just after moving back to the area. He lost by less than a hundred votes, impressive, given his recent return. Now he’s at a table in the café. The look is eclectic, with a pop-art Marilyn and pickup bed turned sofa. Traffic flickers by outside, and he talks with the confidence of one who’s been on both sides of the camera. Moskowitz started in broadcast journalism when still a student at Notre Dame and moved quickly to newscaster in Indianapolis, and from there to Houston, New Orleans, Sacramento, Albany –and finally to News 12 on Long Island, whose logo graces his baseball cap. In allegiance to his career at NBC the network’s peacock hangs on the wall.

Though he moved back home six years ago, Moskowitz spent nearly every weekend here from 1983 on. In the 2005 campaign his bold black “Joe” signs graced the town, turning his first name into a campaign slogan. Now few of them are out, and he’s been running most of his campaign on Facebook. Ads in the paper have touted his sometimes adversarial approach with a tag line of “Just think.” Recently he even turned being a bad guest into a qualification, advertising: “Nothing is ever good enough for Joe. That might make Joe an undesirable dinner guest, but it’s a common trait among leaders….”

He wants to make more of tourism and second homeowners. “We’re not taking enough advantage of them,” he says and brings up last Christmas as an example. “The Saturday before,” he says, “Margaretville was empty. I could have laid down in the middle of the street and been run over. At the same time on the same day, I could have gone to Phoenicia. Go there any day of the week, any night of the week and you have people, young people attracted by the businesses there, the restaurants and bars.”

Now he calls the flood an “opportunity.” It’s a word he repeats often. “Going back to where we were isn’t good enough.” He’d like Margaretville to be more like Phoenicia with stream-side dining and using the river for recreation. “What do we have here?” he asks rhetorically, “A couple of streams running right through town and a 26-mile fresh water lake. That’s what the reservoir becomes once the city opens it up.” The city has yet to make a firm promise to extend their pilot program in the Cannonsville, but Moskowitz insists they will.

He also favors putting together a committee to meet with the city to discuss watershed issues. “They have something we want –” he pauses dramatically– “money. And we have something they want … water.” For leverage the committee can use regulatory taking (an illegal use of eminent domain where government regulation effectively serves as defacto seizure) and a 1947 agreement that says the city must provide water to all who want it in the Watershed.

But whether Joe makes it that far is a big if. He knows it too. He resigned abruptly from the school board last spring. While there are conflicting explanations about what exactly happened, he wrote in a letter to the News that he could do more off the board. He felt as if his resigning was the best way to publicize problems at the school, including low graduation rates.

Moskowitz has also said frequently he’s wanted to serve as supervisor but couldn’t run in the last two elections because of work at Casey Joe’s and serving on the school board, a position he only took at the urging of others. He admits though he’ll have an uphill battle convincing people otherwise. “I know if I lose this race,” Moskowitz says, “it will very likely be because of this. I felt I needed to make a statement. But will I walk away from the town board?” he shakes his head and says emphatically, “No. I started this six years ago, and now the stakes are too high.”

Jake at Work (courtesy of the Watershed Ag Council)

Jake Rosa
Jake Rosa wasn’t planning on running for town supervisor, not this year at least. Then came the flood, and people lobbied him to change his mind. Currently deputy supervisor, Rosa has been on the town board for the last two years, but he still wasn’t convinced. Not that he didn’t think the job imperative, he just knew how much time it requires, and he has a young family and his own forestry business. As he walks a parcel of land he might log, he says it came down to his girlfriend. “When she said okay, I threw my hat in.”

The owner and sole employee of Dry Brook Custom Sawmilling and Logging, he’s won several awards including logger of the year for the Northeastern Loggers’ Association, where he beat loggers from states from Minnesota to Maine for the honor. Also on the Watershed Agriculture Council’s Forestry Commission and the board of the Catskills Forest Association, Jake has been lauded for his sustainable practices. Despite the accolades, he has no staff. The workers’ compensation and liability are too high. He taps the trunk of a giant cherry and says he’d consider hiring someone if elected to help with the workload.

Rosa is not one to put on airs. He’s wearing a red-gone-pink shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pencil tucked behind his ear. A lifelong hunter, he jokes that he became a logger because no one would pay him to hunt. His dad was supervisor during the ’96 flood, and Jake grew up and still lives on Dry Brook Road.

“I’d been looking forward to working with new people and new ideas on the board,” he says, explaining why he decided to run, “but this isn’t a time for learning on the job.” As he discusses the issues, he doesn’t pull any punches, whether he’s fretting over jobs and housing or the two percent property tax cap.

He explains that the town will probably spend $2 million on flood recovery and worries about FEMA’s coming through. “That’s two million we don’t have in our budget. Do we bond it? Then you have to raise taxes to make the payments, but the state passed a tax cap. How do we handle that?” He shakes his head at the Faustian bargain he’s laid out. “Do we lay off 10 of our highway employees so now we can’t plow in the winter?”

He’s just as direct when it comes to tourism. While many see it as the only future for our area, he thinks it should be “the gravy,” rather than the driver of our economy. “People don’t travel or spend much in a recession, so we suffer twice as hard,” he explains, because the economy isn’t diversified.

“Look at what jobs we have available. Most of the businesses – if they have employees, they’re minimum wage. With restaurants you got waitresses, and then there are antique shops….” he laughs and a grouse flies off. “Every time you turn around there’s another one popping up.”

Similarly he doesn’t hide his feelings about Belleayre. “I’ve got friends who work up there,” he says acknowledging the risk in even voicing his opinion. “Does it really need that many people in the summer? Granted they live in the community and need a job, but I’m paying for that job.” Rather than being supported solely by taxpayer contributions he’d like to see it “run like a private authority, so the money they make stays there.” He favors getting Belleayre full funding for the first year and only a small tax contribution after that to force financial accountability.

At the property corner, he doubles back along a logging road. Rosa’s stance towards the city is less strident than the other candidates. Perhaps that’s in part because his father is the executive director of the Catskill Watershed Corporation (CWC), but Jake says the city isn’t leaving so why not work with them? Plus they do bring benefits, like paying for him to follow best-practices as a logger and lending equipment to the town at no cost, a huge taxpayer savings.

His attitude about the Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) brings up the question of a conflict of interest with his father. Jake empathically says it’s not a problem. If he were on the CWC Board of Directors, he’d be his father’s boss. When asked about the issue, Tim Cox the CWC’s lawyer said, “Jake’s serving is absolutely not a problem as long as he doesn’t have check-signing privileges.”

Rosa follows a path through the woods and comes to a field. He says forestry is part of his vision for the town. “It’s one industry the DEP will allow,” he explains. “And it will help owners.” If they can see return from their land, they won’t subdivide. Also good for tourism, forestry ensures open spaces instead of development, while logging roads can encourage horseback riding and hiking. Another related industry he’d like is a local chip burning electric plant. “It would provide 60-70 jobs, with wages up to six-digit salary positions.”

As he approaches his pickup, Rosa says he’s sanguine about the election. He says he’s not in it for the ego and explains that he’s not done much visible campaigning. “I’m there for two more years whether as supervisor or councilman. It doesn’t really matter who wins. I’m there to help them.”

Marge's Aunt