Rosendale Ramblings By Sari Botton

When we first bought our house in Rosendale, we were in the middle of a legal battle with our landlord in the East Village. For eight months, we were “weekenders,” schlepping back and forth, unsure whether we’d ultimately reside in the house on Main Street, or rent it out while we remained in Manhattan. In the end, we lost our cheap, incredible, spacious loft – 100 square feet larger than our house! – and it went to hipster French filmmaker Michel Gondry for A LOT OF MONEY. Like, $6,600 a month.

A few of the times I traveled to the city for our appointments in housing court, I wore either my Rosendale Café t-shirt, or the one that reads “Rosendale Rocks.” Without fail, every time, people stopped me on the street. “I love Rosendale!” they’d say, then rattle off a few businesses they frequented – the 60-year-old family-run indie movie theater, the Rosendale Café, the bike shop, the cheese shop that doubles as a second-hand store…

I am greeted with the same reaction when I tell people in Woodstock, New Paltz, Saugerties, Rhinebeck, and other local towns that I live here. “Rosendale is GREAT!” they exclaim.

While I tend to agree, there’s something funny about that: namely, we’re talking about a town that can barely keep a handful of storefronts open at a time, that can’t support a grocery store, that has scarce and poorly advertised parking for those who might want to come shop and eat and watch movies. We’ve got The Shopping Mall that Time Forgot, aka Fann’s Plaza, with an abandoned supermarket and Fotomat booth, and only a few shops operating. Our video store just went out of business, and our hardware store will be history by Friday.

Yet the buzz about Rosendale is strong, and has been for years. I first heard it in 2000 when I spent a year in Rhinebeck, and the talk has been loud since way before that. This dispite the fact that the town barely thrives. Again and again, it comes close to taking off, but then slips back into…what? Actually, a fun place to live if you’re into artsy, progressive community with quirky, colorful characters, and if you’re not necessarily mainstream in your tastes and lifestyle.

Rosendale has got more than a few things to recommend it by – that movie theater, a few good restaurants, a Sunday farmer’s market, a weekend crafts market, a rail trail, and festivals (including one devoted to pickles) that bring people from miles around. But Beacon or Cold Spring it’s not.

Everyone here seems to have a different theory as to why the town keeps getting stuck, and an idea of how they’d like it to grow and develop. Some would like it to remain just as it is. Others would like it to become Beacon, Cold Spring, or Hudson. Or, Woodstock. In the coming weeks, I’ll be asking various people about their visions for this town, and their opinions about the way it should grow. Feel free to add your voice to the conversation in the comments.

Here’s a little slice of classic Rosendale quirkiness: visit Rosendale Liquors in the Mall That Time Forgot, a.k.a. Fann’s Plaza, and you will be waited on not only by the owner, but also by this helpful little Maltese, named Sake. Sake will take your money or credit card in his teeth and bring it around to the cash register. Then, he’ll then bring you a pen to sign with.

Only in this town.

I’ll have you know that I happen to have in my possession one New York State Lottery ticket. It is for the MegaMillions game. Here’s what I’m going to do when I win those 48 million clams: I am going to buy this building at the opposite end of Main Street. I am going to turn it into a bar/restaurant downstairs and a little inn upstairs. The top floor will be our loft. It’s really nice up there – we took a look. I love my house, but in certain ways, I miss loft living.

Yes, I have a serious real estate crush on this building. I love the look of it, and its potential. I’ve been told it needs some work. But certainly not $48 million worth.

It’s hard not to notice a growing connection between Brooklyn and Rosendale. There’s a shared gritty-chic aesthetic that has kept people slowly but steadily migrating here from Park Slope, Williamsburg, Red Hook and other Kings County neighborhoods.

Here’s the latest evidence: at the Rosendale Street Festival, wedged in among the run-of-the-mill Italian ices and soft serve, there was a truck serving Wine Cellar Sorbets, a much buzzed-about foodie favorite hailing from Brooklyn, with flavors like Pinot Noir, Mimosa, Champagne, Reisling, Sake and so on.

Another truck offered “artisanal southern snow cones” in flavors like Hand-Picked Boysenberry and Wedding Cake.

I find myself imagining – wishing, maybe – that vendors like these could find a permanent place here in town. I say “maybe” because while I want the town to grow, I also want it to remain, for the most part, authentic and unpretentious.

Sure, we can’t even keep a grocery store in business. But what if that abandoned little Fotomat booth at the edge of Fann’s plaza were to become some kind of cool ice cream kiosk…?

I have been reluctant to write about the mounting friction between The Alternative Baker and residents of Main Street. I’ll refrain from getting into hearsay, and let this news story from the Kingston Daily Freeman speak for itself.

(*Headline refers to The Naked Dutch Painter, a song by Stew.)

After weeks of unfortunate cement cracks, plumbing problems, etc., the Rosendale town pool is finally open. Get in there before you blink and it’s Labor Day.

As promised last week, I’m hereby launching a new feature on rosendaleramblings.com, called “Get to Know a Rosendalian.” It seems appropriate that the maiden post should feature the original founder of the Rosendale Street Festival, the colorful “Uncle Willy.”

Name: W. J. Guldy, Jr.
Age: “How old do you like your men?”
Occupation: “I’ve always been in the bar business. But I got hit by a car in May, so I’m not working right now.”

If you attended the Rosendale Street Festival this weekend – or any summer in the past – chances are you crossed paths at some point with the local legend known as “Uncle Willy.” You wouldn’t have been able to miss him, decked out in high hippie regalia, introducing bands on all five stages, and telling tales up and down Main Street. “I once lived in that house right there,” he tells one woman, pointing to an old Victorian. “There were ghosts there – lots of them.”

Rosendale owes at least some of its reputation as a good time to Uncle Willy. Not only did he start the town’s annual two-day bash, he also owned some of its legendary bars.

“In 1970, I opened a bar that became the most famous one in the area,” he boasts. That would have been “The Well,” site these days of The Alternative Baker. “The Well was my heart. We had live music every night. Some great music legends got their start there.”

He’s more than a little vague about what led to The Well shutting down: “There were some people who didn’t want anyone to have any fun,” is his explanation. But I’ve heard all kinds of stories about The Well serving up more than beer, wine and other legal spirits. We’re talking tabs of acid.

That didn’t stop Unclie Willy. He picked himself up and moved on to the Astoria Hotel, where he had another bar. “That had a lifespan, but then they got me there, too.” Who were “they”? “Politics. Jealousy. Taxes. I was never on time paying my taxes.” He later opened bars in Kingston and Belize.

At one point, he ran for mayor of the former Village of Rosendale (there is no longer a Village separate from the Town of Rosendale). “I lost by 22 points,” he says, seemingly still disappointed. “They knew I was winning the vote, and so they came out.” (This seems to be a different “they.”)

In 1976, he also ran for the U.S. Presidency. “I ran on the Heart party,” he says. “If my heart had a window, you could look right through it.”

While it’s not my intention for this blog to be any kind of arts/events calendar, there is too much happening here this weekend not to mention it all. This is The Big Weekend in Rosendale – the one that brings people from far and wide for the Rosendale Street Festival.

Yeah, there are some cheesy booths (think sand art), and the occasional bar brawl. But by and large, the Street Festival is great fun and worth having to walk a few blocks from where you park your car. Some 74 bands will play on five different stages up and down the block, over the course of Saturday and Sunday.

But before all that, Friday night brings us an official, sanctioned brawl – the Hudson Valley B.R.A.W.L. (9 pm at the Rosendale Cafe), an over-the-top tongue-in-cheek women’s arm wrestling event that benefits Planned Parenthood. And even before that, there’s a 6 pm art opening featuring the brief history of the B.R.A.W.L at the Roos Arts gallery.

There are parties and after-parties and after-after parties. Be there, or be square.

(Rosendale Poster by Pirtle Design)

Here we go again…

I am hiding upstairs while Brian “deals” with it. We have just instituted a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy regarding the fate of groundhogs and other intruders in the garden: I don’t ask, and Brian doesn’t tell.

I’ll be away for a couple of days. Back Wednesday. Next week, I’ll introduce a new regular feature, “Get to know a Rosendalian,” with profiles of various locals. Till then…