Research and development

The catch of the day for the Tangled column of the week.
Patrick L. Sullivan
The catch of the day for the Tangled column of the week.
Fishing trips are rarely straightforward propositions. Over 52 years of flicking the baited hook, I have learned not to make plans with rigid schedules, because something always goes awry.
Last week I traveled deep into the wilds of Greene County, N.Y., for some research and development with my fishing guru Gary.
This meant remembering where his house is.
In that part of the world, there is a Route 23, a Route 23A, and a Route 23C.
I have often wondered why the geniuses that assign numbers to roads couldn’t just call them Route 23, Route 24, and Route 25.
Maybe a sequential clump of numbers is too easily confused. How about Routes 23, 47 and 59?
Luckily Gary’s neighbor has hung a gigantic American flag a couple doors down.
Whoops, there’s the flag, turn around.
R&D project A was a town reservoir. I’m not going to name the town because everything about this adventure was highly irregular.
Acting on intelligence gleaned from unusually reliable sources, we drove past a series of increasingly unpromising signs.
First we were warned to keep out. Then it was no hunting, fishing, trapping or trespassing for any reason. Then the signs returned to the general “keep out” theme.
We finally got to a gate. It was open. There were two men talking about something.
Gary went over to them. He conversed with one. He returned.
“We’re good,” he said. He had been talking to the water supply boss, who said it was fine if we parked outside the gate, out of the way, and walked up.
“It’s only about a quarter mile,” said Gary.
Of course it was mostly uphill, and not a gentle grade, either.
At the midway point, we heard yelping and hollering from the deep woods.
Two men emerged. They did not look outdoorsy. They looked out of shape and frustrated. (I am, after all, a highly trained observer.)
They had lost two chihuahuas. The dogs had been in the woods all night. The plan seemed to be to stumble around the woods in haphazard fashion yelling variations on “Here doggy!”
There didn’t seem to be anything we could do so we soldiered on, eventually reaching a large pond of sorts which was the reservoir that supposedly held big rainbow trout.
We tried, but it was windy and squishy and I was wearing a pair of boat shoes, handy enough in the right context but next to useless here.
I caught two bluegills. Gary caught a shiner.
On the way back the rescue team had located one dog. The other one had gone silent. I suggested opening a can of the ripest dog food available, on the theory the rich scent might overcome the dog’s terror.
The R&D continued at Lake Colgate, which is really more of a pond, created by damming up the East Kill. There is another impoundment about a mile upstream, and in between is a nice-looking bit of stream that should contain brook trout.
There is another impoundment about a mile upstream, and in between is a nice-looking bit of stream that should contain brook trout.
On this day it contained shiners and nothing else.
We tracked it down to where it merges into the lake, and I caught another bluegill which was sitting in about three inches of water making faces at me.
I showed him.
The guru in action in his natural habitat: the slow wait by the watery depths.Patrick L. Sullivan
The good thing about riding around with Gary is his catalog of amusing anecdotes and vivid character sketches. Also cigar smoking is allowed.
This time I learned about Cowboy George. A Brooklynite, George found himself in New Mexico, where he developed a taste for garish, stage cowboy attire.
Upon his return to Brooklyn, he developed the theme, with a twist.
George was also a cross-dresser. And a cocaine dealer, with a sideline in illegal guns.
Gary once asked him why he liked dressing like Dale Evans.
“When that buckskin hits my thighs, the years just melt away,” George replied.
Back in Phoenicia, I convened with my nomadic attorney, Thos., who was ensconced at the Woodland Valley Campground nearby.
I’m not sure how we got on the subject, but he explained his “layered defense” for personal protection that does not involve a firearm. His travels take him all over the place, and carrying a gun just isn’t practical for legal reasons.
The first item is pepper spray.
The second is a gas mask. “One of those World War One things, I want it to be terrifying.”
And the third is a spear.
He explained he had returned a custom made spear to the Japanese maker. It wasn’t pointy enough.
“I’d do more damage hitting someone with the handle.”
Thos. further explained that sometimes he finds himself bivouacking in less than ideal circumstances.
Thos. saw “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” at a tender age, and it left a lasting impression.
One Florida campground reminded him of the film enough that after talking with his new neighbors for five minutes, he got back in the car and left, without unhitching the camper or even stopping at the office to get his 15 bucks back.
Some fishing did get done on this trip.
Woodland Valley Creek is a major Esopus tributary and for 60 years or so, the Woodland Trout Fund (which sports the easily misconstrued acronym WTF), has planted brown and brook trout on Memorial Day weekend with a smaller stocking in July.
There is excellent access to public water downstream, and the WTF has a long-standing arrangement with the homeowners in the valley that trespassing for the purpose of fly-fishing is allowed.
The years have not been kind to the stream. Hurricanes and floods have reconfigured the streambed several times and left exposed clay banks. Forests of knotweed have eliminated cherished pools and runs.
And the new generation of homeowners are not as accommodating as their predecessors.
Nonetheless, it is where I learned to fish, and I always chip in. I try to catch my first Catskill trout of any given year in Woodland, with a bamboo rod and a dry fly.
That didn’t happen this year. I was unfaithful and hit the Beaverkill, Schoharie and a couple of others first.
But I did chuck a Chubby Chernobyl into the pool where my late father caught his last trout, and a feisty brown obliged by smacking it hard.
I used a Phillipson bamboo rod, seven feet for five weight, which my father gave me as a college graduation present.
Other kids got fancy cars, or a seat on the board, or a months-long trip to Europe.
But I’m still using the rod.
So who got the better deal?
SHARON — Sharon Dennis Rosen, 83, died on Aug. 8, 2025, in New York City.
Born and raised in Sharon, Connecticut, she grew up on her parents’ farm and attended Sharon Center School and Housatonic Valley Regional High School. She went on to study at Skidmore College before moving to New York City, where she married Dr. Harvey Rosen and together they raised two children.
Sharon’s lifelong love of learning and the arts shaped both her work and her passions. For decades, she served as a tour guide at the American Museum of Natural History and the Asia Society, sharing her knowledge and enthusiasm with countless visitors. She also delighted in traveling widely, immersing herself in other cultures, and especially treasured time spent visiting her daughter and grandsons in Europe and Africa.
She was also deeply connected to her hometown, where in retirement she spent half her time and had many friends. She served as President of the Sharon East Side Cemetery until the time of her death, where generations of her family are buried and where she will also be laid to rest.
She is survived by her husband, Harvey; her children, Jennifer and Marc; and four beloved grandchildren.
Claire and Garland Jeffreys in the film “The King of In Between.”
There is a scene in “The King of In Between,” a documentary about musician Garland Jeffreys, that shows his name as the answer to a question on the TV show “Jeopardy!”
“This moment was the film in a nutshell,” said Claire Jeffreys, the film’s producer and director, and Garland’s wife of 40 years. “Nobody knows the answer,” she continued. “So, you’re cool enough to be a Jeopardy question, but you’re still obscure enough that not one of the contestants even had a glimmer of the answer.”
Garland Jeffreys never quite became a household name, but he carved out a singular place in American music by refusing to fit neatly into any category. A biracial New Yorker blending rock, reggae, soul and R&B, he used genre fusion as a kind of rebellion — against industry pigeonholes, racial boundaries and the musical status quo. Albums like “Ghost Writer” (1977) captured the tension of a post–civil rights America, while songs like “Wild in the Streets” made him an underground prophet of urban unrest. He moved alongside artists like Lou Reed and Bruce Springsteen but always in his own lane — part poet, part agitator, part bridge between cultures.
“I think what I tried to do with the film, wittingly or unwittingly, was just to show that we all have these lives and they don’t often meet our dreams of what we think we’re entitled to, we’re talented enough to get or whatever,” said Claire. “We all have these goals, but we’re sort of stymied. Often, it’s partly circumstance and luck, but it’s also very often something that we’re doing or not doing that’s impeding us.”
This is not the typical rock-and-roll redemption story. There are no smashed guitars, no heroic overdoses, no dramatic comeback tour. What we get instead is something quieter and more intimate: hours of archival footage that Claire spent years sorting through. The sheer effort behind the film is palpable — so much so that, as she admitted with a laugh, it cured her of any future ambitions in filmmaking.
“What I learned with this project was A, I’m never doing it again. It was just so hard. And B, you know, you can do anything if you collaborate with people that know what they’re doing.”
Claire worked with the editing team of Evan M. Johnson and Ben Sozanski and a slew of talented producers, and ended up with a truthful portrayal — a beautiful living document for Garland’s legions of fans and, perhaps most importantly, for the couple’s daughter, Savannah.
“She’s been in the audience with me maybe three or four times,” said Claire. “The last time, I could tell that she was beginning to feel very proud of the effort that went into it and also of being a part of it.”
Savannah pursued a career in music for a while herself but has changed tracks and become a video producer.
“I think she couldn’t quite see music happening for herself,” said Claire. “She was like, ‘I don’t know if I want to struggle the way I saw my dad struggling and I’m going to get a job with a salary.’”
The film doesn’t just track the arc of an underappreciated musician, however. The music, always playing, is the soundtrack of a life — of a man navigating racial, musical and personal boundaries while balancing marriage, parenthood, aging, addiction andrecovery. Garland and Claire speak plainly about getting sober in the film, a life choice that gave them both clarity and shows Claire as a co-conspirator in his survival.
“I did some work early on with a director,” said Claire. “He wanted the final cut, and I didn’t feel like I could do that — not because I wanted so much to control the story, but I didn’t want the story to be about Alzheimer’s.”
Diagnosed in 2017, Garland, now 81, is in the late stages of the disease. Claire serves as his primary caregiver. The film quietly acknowledges his diagnosis, but it doesn’t dwell — a restraint that feels intentional. Garland spent a career refusing to be reduced: not to one sound, one race or one scene. And so the documentary grants him that same dignity in aging. His memory may be slipping, but the film resists easy sentimentality. Instead, it shows what remains — his humor, his voice, his marriage, the echo of a life lived on the edges of fame and at the center of his own convictions.
The Moviehouse in Millerton will be screening “The King of In Between” on Sept. 20 at 7 p.m. Peter Aaron, arts editor of Chronogram Magazine will conduct a talkback and Q&A with Claire Jeffreys after the film. Purchase tickets at themoviehouse.net.
The Haystack Book Festival, a program of the Norfolk Hub, brings renowned writers and thinkers to Norfolk for conversation. Celebrating its fifth season this fall, the festival will gather 18 writers for discussions at the Norfolk Library on Sept. 20 and Oct. 3 through 5.
Jerome A. Cohen, author of the memoir “Eastward, Westward: A Lifein Law.”Haystack Book Festival
For example, “Never Take the Rule of Law for Granted: China and the Dissident,” will be held Saturday, Sept. 20, at 4 p.m. at the Norfolk Library. It brings together Jerome A. Cohen, author of “Eastward, Westward: A Life in Law,” and Mark Clifford, author of “The Troublemaker: How Jimmy Lai Became a Billionaire, Hong King’s Greatest Dissident, and China’s Most Feared Critic” in dialogue with journalist Richard Hornik to discuss the rule of law and China.
The Council on Foreign Relations stated, “Few Americans have done more than Jerome A. Cohen to advance the rule of law in East Asia. He established the study of Chinese law in the United States. An advocate for human rights, Cohen has been a scholar, teacher, lawyer, and activist for sixty years.”
Cohen, a professor at New York University School of Law and director of its U.S.-Asia Law Institute, revealed his long view on China: “We are now witnessing another extreme in the pendulum’s swing toward repression. Xi Jinping is likely to outlive me but ‘no life lives forever.’ There will eventually be another profound reaction to the current totalitarian era.”
Mark Clifford, author of “The Troublemaker: How Jimmy Lai Became a Billionaire, Hong Kong’s Greatest Dissident, and China’s Most Feared Critic.”Haystack Book Festival
In “The Troublemaker,” Clifford chronicles Lai’s life from child refugee to pro-democracy billionaire to his current imprisonment by the Chinese Communist Party. Clifford is president of the Committee for Freedom in Hong Kong Foundation, a Walter Bagehot Fellow at Columbia University, and holds a PhD in history from the University of Hong Kong. He was the former editor-in-chief of the South China Morning Post and The Standard (Hong Kong and Seoul).
Journalist Richard Hornik, adjunct senior fellow at the East-West Center in Honolulu.Haystack Book Festival
Richard Hornik, adjunct senior fellow at the East-West Center, will moderate the discussion. Hornik is the former executive editor of AsiaWeek, news service director of Time magazine, and former Time bureau chief in Warsaw, Boston, Beijing and Hong Kong.
Betsy Lerner, author of “Shred Sisters,” is giving the 2025 Brendan Gill lecture at the Haystack Book Festival.Haystack Book Festival
The Brendan Gill Lecture is a highlight of the festival honoring longtime Norfolk resident Brendan Gill, who died in1997. Gill wrote for The New Yorker magazine for fifty years. Betsy Lerner, New York Times-recognized author of “Shred Sisters,” will deliver this year’s lecture on Friday, Oct. 3, at 6 p.m. at the Norfolk Library.
Visit haystackbookfestival.org to register. Admission is free.