Fred Pharaoh said he had been working in Montauk more often these days. On Monday as he added a second coat of white paint to a bedroom wall, he talked about the warm fog that descended on the ocean side of Montauk this time of year.

    “I don’t know if it’s in my head, or in my blood, but I love it.” In any case, he said the drive from his home in Sag Harbor to Montauk felt like a return. He is a Montaukett Indian.

    Mr. Pharaoh specializes in drywall, the application of Sheetrock, Spackle, and paint, and is considered a master of the craft, an artisan.

    “I doodled in class, and my family always said I would do something with it. My father would start with a small drawing that would become a ship with all its sails.” That would be the late William Robert Pharaoh, “one of the Sag Harbor Pharaohs,” a grandnephew of Stephen Talkhouse Pharaoh and nephew of Pocahontas Pharaoh, said to have been the last Montaukett born in Montauk.

    “She told my father that he would want to come to ask her about the hisory one day, ‘but by that time I’ll be gone.’ ”

    Gone, but not forgotten, especially these days. On June 13, the New York State Assembly approved the 2013 Montaukett Act to reverse State Supreme Court Justice Abel Blackmar, who 103 years ago declared the Montaukett tribe to be “extinct.” The State Senate approved its version of the bill five days later. The legislation awaits Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo’s signature. Assemblyman Fred W. Thiele Jr. of Sag Harbor and Senator Kenneth P. LaValle of Mount Sinai sponsored the measures.

    The so-called extinction solidified the purchase of all Montauk lands by the developer Arthur Benson, the last swipe in the stripping away of land from the Montauketts that began when Sachem Wyandanch made a land-for-protection deal with Lion Gardiner in the late 17th century.

    Mr. Pharaoh said he did not want to talk about the legislation or what it could mean other than to say it made him proud. His first cousin is Robert Pharaoh, the current chief of the Montauketts, who has led the effort to secure the Montauketts’ claim to be a New York State Indian Nation. “He keeps me informed.”

    He said he began to realize who he was at about the age of 9. After being forced out of Montauk, some of the Montauketts moved to Sag Harbor, “where the work was. It was a factory town and Pharaohs worked on the whaling ships. Teachers in the seventh and eighth grades [he attended St. Andrew’s School and Pierson High School] would bring it up. It was embarrassing. I grew up watching TV. When the white people won, it was a victory. When the Indians won, it was a massacre. I wanted to be a good guy. Only when I was older did I realize what was what, and I was proud of who I was.”

    “We were hoodwinked out of our land. It’s criminal. It’s an old story. I can’t think of one that’s older. Today it could never happen. Back then it was the white man’s court.”

    Mr. Pharaoh is a big man. He is a student of the “sweet science,” boxing, and moves gracefully, with a certain bob and weave, when he talks, and with a bit of gravel in his voice. He cocks his head when sizing up his work, sandpaper in hand.

    He’s been Sheetrocking since the mid-1980s and is good at making seams disappear. On Monday, as he sanded a spot that did not pass inspection, he recited a poem he learned from his father as a boy:

“Montauk, land of rocks and waves,

Montauk, land of Montauk braves,

For years they hunted deer and quail,

Hunting down the sunrise trail.”

    When the Supreme Court struck down the Defense of Marriage Act yesterday, Edie Windsor, the plaintiff in the case that grew out of a whopping estate tax she was charged when Thea Spyer, her longtime partner and wife, died, already had plans to appear at a rally in New York City that afternoon, and as a grand marshal in the New York City Pride March on Sunday.

    The news of the Supreme Court decision, in which justices ruled that a 1996 law denying federal benefits to legally married same-sex couples is unconstitutional, undoubtedly threw the 80-something Ms. Windsor, who has become a touchstone for gay rights activists, into an even higher gear.

    While normally Ms. Windsor would be spending a summer day at the house she bought in Southampton’s Tuckahoe area with Ms. Spyer in 1968, she was in her Manhattan residence on Tuesday night, surrounded by a retinue of supporters for whom she has become a hero. Besieged by both supporters and reporters, Ms. Windsor told a friend she was not taking many calls, but issued an invitation to join her at the parade.

    Many marchers, no doubt, will don “I Am With Edie” T-shirts, sporting a silhouetted head surrounded by the perky shape of Ms. Windsor’s signature bob. The shape of that hair has been Photoshopped onto numerous images of celebrities and others who have stood with Ms. Windsor, a diminutive but fierce figure, in her Supreme Court fight.

    Ms. Windsor and Ms. Spyer were married in Toronto in 2007, just 21 months before Ms. Spyer died.

    Their marriage was recognized by New York State, but when Ms. Spyer died in 2009, at a point when the couple had lived together for more than four decades, Ms. Windsor was prevented by the federal Defense of Marriage Act from claiming an exemption from federal taxes that is available to surviving spouses and had to pay $363,053 in estate taxes. If Ms. Windsor had been married to a man, her inheritance would have been tax-free.

     “I was anguished about the money, but it was more about the indignation,” Ms. Windsor was quoted as saying last summer, after her lawyer had petitioned the Supreme Court to hear her case. “The government was not recognizing us, and we deserved recognition.”

    It’s just a terrible injustice and I don’t expect that from my country,” she told reporters. “I think it’s a mistake that has to get corrected.”

    According to reports, Ms. Windsor has a life-size photo of Ms. Spyer in their apartment. She sometimes leans up against it and talks about the progress of the case known as Windsor v. United States.

    Before the case reached the Supreme Court, several federal courts had already concluded that the Defense of Marriage Act violates equal protection by barring same-sex couples who are legally married under state law from receiving the federal benefits available to heterosexual couples.

    In October, the United States Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit ruled 2 to 1 in Ms. Windsor’s case that there was no good reason for treating married same-sex couples differently than heterosexual spouses. 

    At that time, telling reporters that she was “thrilled” by the decision, Ms. Windsor said that she found it “so offensive that this woman that I lived with and adored, and had loved me, that they treated her as if she was a stranger in my life.”

    Ms. Spyer, she was quoted as saying in October, is “here with me in spirit and would have been so proud to see how far we’ve come.”

    “I’m this person who believes in the Constitution,” she told a reporter earlier this year while waiting to hear whether or not the Supreme Court would take her case. To pass the time while waiting, she read a selection of essays by E.L. Doctorow about the Constitution. “I believe in the Supreme Court,” she said then. “And I do expect justice.”

    Gay rights activists have fought for years against the act known as DOMA. The Obama administration decided in 2011 not to defend the law and asked for its review, and former President Bill Clinton, who signed it into law in 1996, came out against it in an op-ed piece in the Washington Post in March, advocating its invalidation by the Supreme Court.

    When Ms. Windsor got engaged to Ms. Spyer in 1967, she did not begin wearing an engagement ring, which would inevitably bring questions about the man to whom she was betrothed. Instead, upon arrival at an East End rental one weekend, Ms. Spyer gave her a diamond-encrusted circle pin.

    Standing on the steps of the Supreme Court in March after justices agreed to hear the DOMA case, she wore that pin and commented on how someone who was once afraid to say she was a lesbian had become the plaintiff in a key case for gay rights.

    “Everyone lived in the closet,” Ms. Windsor said of life in New York in the 1960s. “The only place to go was bars, and they were rough.”

    She and Ms. Spyer met in 1965 at Portofino, a restaurant in the West Village. At a friend’s apartment later that night, they danced so long, Ms. Spyer had said that Ms. Windsor “danced a hole through their stockings.” Two years later they reconnected during a Memorial Day weekend in the Hamptons.

    As summer residents here, the two often hosted friends, played in poker games, and attended the Empire State Pride fund-raisers. After Ms. Spyer, who had multiple sclerosis, became disabled, they continued to dance together, with Ms. Windsor sitting on Ms. Spyer’s lap in her wheelchair.

    Their love story has been documented in a video released by the American Civil Liberties Union, as well as in another film, “Edie and Thea: A Very Long Engagement.”

    “The fact is, marriage is this magic thing,” Ms. Windsor has said. “I mean forget all the financial stuff. Marriage . . . symbolizes commitment and love like nothing else in the world. And it’s known all over the world. I mean, wherever you go, if you’re married, that means something to people, and it meant a difference in feeling the next day.”

    Although the couple was married for only two years of their long relationship, Ms. Windsor told reporters that something profound changed after they were married. “For anybody who doesn’t understand why we want it and why we need it,” she said, “it is magic.”

The owner of Cyril’s, the popular restaurant and bar on Napeague, woke up at 4:30 a.m. on June 24 to find that $22,700 had been stolen from his Windmill Lane residence in Amagansett.

On June 23, after a busy Sunday, Cyril Fitzsimons, 69, took two satchels of cash from the restaurant to his house, where he counted it out, breaking down and recording the denominations on paper, before going to sleep at about 10 p.m., East Hampton Town Police said. He had kept the bags, which were described as black with “Cyril’s” printed on the side, in the bedroom. When he awoke a few hours later, the bags were gone, he said.

Mr. Fitzsimons told police several plants had been removed from behind the house near a fence where he believes the intruder may have gained access to the property.

None of the other residents of the house had heard anything during the night, and neighbors were unable to shed light on the matter, according to police.

   As we rush into the height of the season, it would be good if more people remember the old saying that goes, “A person who is not nice to their waitress is not a nice person.” It seems that often, as soon as people walk through the doors of a restaurant, they feel at liberty to play it fast and loose with the common rules of politeness and courtesy. The intent of these pointers is to serve as a guide for how to treat your server with kindness, patience, and yes, even respect. We are people too, after all.

     • Speak up. If something is not to your liking, I want to know about it. I’m not trying to hustle you for a tip. I care about my job, and my job is ensuring you have a pleasant dining experience. When I come around during the meal and ask how everything is, that’s the time to let me know if there are any issues with the food, as opposed to the end of the meal when there is nothing I can do about it. If your fish was dry but you ate the whole thing and didn’t tell anyone, then you’re paying for the fish. Please don’t throw a hissy fit.

    • Don’t order off the menu. We are not In-N-Out Burger. There is no secret menu. Just because we have cream and spinach does not mean we can whip up a batch of creamed spinach for your individual consumption. Please don’t get angry with us when we tell you the kitchen can’t do something. It’s legitimately because the kitchen cannot do it.

    • Don’t linger. It’s not that I’m trying to rush you. It’s just that I’m trying to seat another table so I can get one more tip before we close for the night. It doesn’t bother me when people stay 10 to 15 minutes after the check is dropped, unless there’s a clear line out the door and the restaurant is packed. Then it’s just rude. Your money isn’t better than anyone else’s. Just because you spent $150 for you and your date does not allow you the right to caress hands next to a wilting tulip for an hour after you’ve paid. (The only caveat being that if you enjoy the ambience so much you want to hang around for half the night, tip accordingly. Your behavior is costing me money, so it would be nice if you left a little something extra to make up for it.)

    • Don’t double-dip. You ask the runner for a side of mustard. Then I come over to check on your table. You ask me for a side of mustard. Are you unable to wait the minuscule amount of time it may take the runner to return to the kitchen and then to you with your desired condiment? Is your love of mustard so profound that you cannot last a single second without it? Are you so nervous that no one will respond to your plea for more mustard that you ask three people, thereby ensuring that at least one will heed your request? Unless the runner forgets to bring you mustard, there is no reason to ask anyone else for it. If the runner isn’t back to you within a couple of minutes, feel free to get my attention. Otherwise, please be patient. The runner is dealing with other things. I am dealing with other things. We’re all dealing with other things. The task that it might take your personal chef seconds to perform — walking three feet to the fridge, opening the door to obtain the mustard, bringing the mustard to you — takes just a leeetle bit longer in a restaurant, since you are not the only one dining here.    • Don’t point. I am capable of understanding words. In fact, I prefer them.

    • Don’t wave. I am specifically talking about the one or two-handed vigorous wave as if you’re a damsel on a train in a 1930s movie and I’m the poor schlub you’re leaving behind at the station. I understand that there’s a lot going on and you’re worried I won’t notice you. That’s normal. But I suggest instead attempting to make eye contact with anyone wearing an apron. If that fails, put up a hand. No, no, don’t move it. Just hold up the hand. Make sure you’re looking around. I know it’s tempting to wave your hand, but see, someone saw you. Whatever issue you’re having will be resolved shortly.

The appearance this week of numerous Portuguese man-of-war on ocean beaches from Montauk to East Hampton Village has created a sort of "Jaws" moment for local officials. They have not added up to a call to close beaches, as in the 1975 film about a killer great white shark, but officials have urged beachgoers to be cautious.

According to John Ryan Jr., the chief lifeguard for East Hampton Town, more than 30 have washed ashore. "A dozen were found in Montauk today," Mr. Ryan said on Tuesday, adding, "The majority of the man-of-war that we've found have been in Montauk. We've been checking the beaches every morning on the high-tide line."

The invertebrate, which is often mischaracterized as a jellyfish, is actually a colony of different organisms, called polyps. They become so specialized that they need each other to survive.

Portuguese man-of-war are generally found around the world in the ocean close to the equator, but strong currents sometimes pull them out of their range. "The recent southwest swell that has caused all of this surf has pushed them up the Gulf Stream. The water is five degrees warmer now," Mr. Ryan said.

"They have a tendency to stay in warmer waters, so the ongoing change in water climates is probably causing this problem," East Hampton Village Mayor Paul F. Rickenbach Jr. said. However, seeing these faux-jellies off Long Island is not so uncommon, according to Mr. Ryan. They were last spotted here after a storm in 2006.

Man-of-war are typically 12 inches long, 5 inches wide, and their tentacles can be up to 165 feet long. Their bodies and tentacles are covered in venom-filled nematocysts, which paralyze and kill prey such as small fish, and can pack a powerful sting. However, they are not as dangerous as one might think.

"People misunderstand them. There are cases where people have been severely affected, but it only will happen if you are allergic. If you get stung, you're not going to die," Mr. Ryan said.

Regardless of whether one is allergic to them, the sting is extremely uncomfortable. The tentacles can stick to the victim's skin and leave large, painful welts. Even after washing ashore, when they look dead, they can sting when touched.

There are ways to reduce the pain and swelling when stung. "Man-of-war stings are treated differently from a normal jellyfish sting. Remove the tentacle and rinse with cold fresh or salt water. But make sure you don't apply vinegar. That will make the pain worse," Mr. Ryan said. "But this is definitely one of the reasons why people should swim in protected areas."

Sounding relieved that no one had been stung, at least by Tuesday, Mr. Ryan confirmed that there was no plan to close the beaches. "We are looking for them. If we see a lot floating in a certain area, we would call people out of the water," he said.

"The village government and the local business owners want everybody to enjoy everything the town has to offer, including the beaches, on this very busy weekend of the summer," Mayor Rickenbach said.

Additional photograph: Jack Graves

    On a Saturday smack in the height of a hot, hectic, summer season, traffic will come to a halt to make way for a bicycle brigade of more than 50 wounded soldiers from the United States and United Kingdom along with hundreds of their supporters. That’s the way it should be, according to Soldier Ride organizers and participants, who will celebrate the now-international charity ride’s 10th year on July 20.

    Chris Carney reminisced on Tuesday about the ride’s first year, which happened, he said, on “a wing and a prayer,” when he was a bartender in Amagansett weak on cycling experience but with a strong desire to raise money for wounded veterans. He rode a bicycle from the East to West Coasts having no idea of how the ride would grow, that it would include wounded veterans alongside him, or how great the need to support them would continue to be.

    “There are so many guys in need of it,” Mr. Carney said on Tuesday. The ride’s accomplishments, he said, are “bittersweet.”

    “It is great to reach out to so many and be part of their recovery, but it is a never ending flow of those who need,” he said.

    “I have seen what it can do right in front of me . . . to watch someone start smiling again and feel that they could do anything again . . . and now it’s happening around the world,” said Nick Kraus, who worked with Mr. Carney at the Stephen Talkhouse when the ride was first conceived and has become deeply involved, too. “To be part of the beginning of something so big, it’s more that you can ask for.”

    “Last week, for the first time we did two rides in two places at the same time,” Mr. Kraus said. This year’s rides still to come will include ones on the North Fork in September and in Germany, the U.K., Boston, and Cape Cod.

    The Wounded Warrior Project, now the parent charity for the ride, is focusing on legislation, too, Mr. Carney said. A veterans insurance bill was recently passed and a caregiver bill is in the works, which will save the country money in the long run by allowing a severely injured veteran to be cared for at home instead of spending years in a government hospital.

    Getting post traumatic stress disorder classified as a physical ailment is high on the agenda, too, Mr. Carney said, as it all too often contributes to the staggering suicide rates among those returning from combat.

    When Mr. Carney exited the elevator at Walter Reed Hospital with Mr. Kraus, Reggie Cornelia, and Peter Honerkamp, an owner of the Stephen Talkhouse, in 2004, there was no looking back for any of them. “Kids younger than you thought could be in the Army walking with crutches and amputations. . . . It was so heavy we knew we had to succeed,” he said.

    “Peter helped the idea become reality,” Mr. Carney said.  

    That trip “changed my life forever,” said Mr. Kraus. “I didn’t know that many in the military growing up in New York and in the Hamptons,” he said.

    “Doctors started sending us recovering soldiers,” Mr. Carney said of the second ride. Around 40 veterans took part at different points of the ride, whether for a day, a weekend, or a week, realizing the rehabilitative effect it had.

    It takes longer for them to do everything with amputations, but “on a bike, they can fly down a hill with wind in their hair as they did in their younger, carefree days,” Mr. Carney said. The sweat and hard work helped their physical and mental health, and so did bonding over beer and pizza in the hotel rooms, he said.

    Mr. Carney credits those who helped get the ride off the ground, both South Fork and national supporters from both sides of the aisle. “Putting thoughts on the war aside was a necessity,” he said. “We worked hard to stay nonpolitical and balanced.” With supporters ranging from Alec Baldwin to Bill O’Reilly, it was necessary to separate feelings about the war from the need to help returning soldiers.

    “Alec was one of the first,” said Mr. Carney, “he came through with a check early for us.” Mr. Baldwin also did some public service announcements. “That was big,” he said. He also credited Bob Dole and Tony Snow, a Fox News reporter whom he called his biggest supporter.

    Many were determined not to let this generation of veterans have the same experience as those who returned from Vietnam. “It is nice to see those returning home being treated with respect, dignity, with honor,” said Mr. Kraus. “They serve without question of politics to allow us our freedoms.”

    It couldn’t happen without all of the people that work behind the scenes, said Mr. Kraus, with organizing volunteers ranging from veterans and military families to Boy and Girl Scouts.

    The Hamptons Soldier Ride has been undefeated as the top fund-raiser of all the rides to date. This year, however, Babylon Town’s ride was ahead as of Tuesday.

    In addition to two walks, two rides, and an open-to-the-public barbecue this year, with more live music than ever. “All the guys love Rock the Farm at night,” said Mr. Kraus of the outdoor concert that follows in Amagansett. English Beat will headline the July 20 concert. Tickets can be purchased online via soldierride.org/thehamptons or at stephentalkhouse.com.

    Those who want to join the ride can sign up on the Web site, where the route and ride details are posted. Mr. Kraus also urged those who don’t ride to “cheer people on, spread the word, wave a flag, or say thank you.”

    Welcome Warrior lawn signs are available at the Stephen Talkhouse, too.

    Getting wounded veterans on bikes in the communities they served is a “tremendous aspect of the whole event,” Mr. Carney said, “and letting people show their love to them.”

   Be polite. Saying “Two,” and pointing to the desired table is not an appropriate response when I ask, “How are you doing this evening?” Put down the cellphone. You motion me over, waving one hand while the other holds the phone to your ear. “I’ll have Diet Coke, no ice,” you mouth. “What?” I ask loudly. I’m not going to make this easy for you.

   “Diet Coke. No ice,” you yell back. “No, I wasn’t talking to you. I’m in a restaurant,” you tell the person on the other end of the line.

   Know that you have secured the bottom spot on my list of priorities.

   • Be patient. Here’s the thing: Things happen. We’re all human. We all make mistakes. Yes, even you. Going out to eat is a gamble. It shouldn’t be, but it is. You’re in luck, though. The odds are in your favor. The majority of the time you’ll have a wonderful, pleasant, delicious experience.

   When you get the urge to hold your arms out, elbows to your sides, palms facing up, and raise your eyebrows at your waitress asking what was probably the first question one human ever put to another, “Where’s the food?” check yourself.

   • The food is coming. Unless I forgot to put in your order (which is a rarer occurrence than most customers believe), the arrival time of your meal is utterly out of my control. I don’t cook the food; I serve it. I am a server.

   Twenty minutes for an entree is not a long time. Period. If you ordered appetizers, generally the main course won’t come immediately after. When we’re busy, it could take maybe 10 minutes.

   If you cannot go another second without sustenance, please, whatever you do, do not take it out on your waitress. If she’s is anything like me, she has done all she can to put the meal on the table in a timely fashion.

   Don’t complain to me about how expensive things are. You do realize that no one forced you to vacation in the Hamptons, right? Also, it’s gauche.

    • Read the menu. This might seem obvious but dear lord, I feel like we need to put signs all over the restaurant reminding people of this very important step.

    When you say, “What salads do you have?” I will take a deep breath and mentally grit my teeth, but I will tell you.

    When you order a cheeseburger and then blink in surprise when I ask you what kind of cheese you would like, my heart grows a little colder.

    When your entree is brought to the table and you exclaim, “Oh, I didn’t know it came with broccoli. I hate broccoli. I want something else,” I would like nothing more than to dump the plate of food in your lap. Read the menu.

    • Don’t seat yourself. You’re not even allowed to seat yourself at an Applebee’s, so why would you assume it’s encouraged here, in the Hamptons, home of all things chic and sophisticated? I can’t think of a single restaurant with waiter service east of the Shinnecock where I can walk in and find my own table.

    Oh right, but the rules don’t apply to you because you have millions of dollars and a total lack of self-awareness. My mistake.

    • Be aware of your surroundings. It’s difficult, I know. The world does not revolve around you or the movie that you have to get to by 7:15.

    • Look around. Notice all these people? They’re going to see that movie too and, whoops! They got here before you. Now be quiet and wait your turn.

    Ditto when you ask me why the food is taking so long. I’m sorry you’re under the impression that you’re dining in a completely empty restaurant where the only job of the kitchen is to cook your well-done steak in 10 minutes.

    It must have taken years to cultivate such a refined attitude of entitlement along with the will it requires not to notice that it is 6:30 on a Saturday night and we are completely full.

    An East Hampton Town permit for Ben Watts’s Shark Attack Sounds party, slated this year for Friday, July 5, at the Montauk Yacht Club, was approved in a split 3-to-2 vote at an East Hampton Town Board meeting last Thursday.

    Councilwoman Sylvia Overby and Councilman Peter Van Scoyoc, who voted against issuing the permit, cited the size of the party — 3,900 guests are expected, according to the permit application, although thousands showed up last year at a party slated for 800 — and the inability of the board to fully review the application, given the time constraints.

    Plans are to have parking at Rita’s Stables in Montauk, but this week it came to light that the town had some time ago purchased the development rights on the land there with the community preservation fund, precluding its use for anything other than agriculture-related activities.

    Both Supervisor Bill Wilkinson and Councilman Dominick Stanzione, who voted to issue the permit despite some misgivings about the short review period, noted that the party organizers had provided details and addressed concerns, such as traffic and emergency vehicle access, that arose after last year’s party.

    “Last year, we said never again for this event, and since that time they have put this together,” Mr. Wilkinson said of the proposal. “They put [together] what [East Hampton Town Police Chief Edward] Ecker described as one of the most comprehensive things that he’s seen.”

    “The reason it comes to the board is to look at policy,” Mr. Van Scoyoc said, “and whether or not we think it’s appropriate for the community. It’s really not the nuts and bolts of where the traffic’s going and everything.”

    Organizers had submitted the application within the required time period, on June 4, but town board members received it only weeks later, after it had been routed for comment to various town officials, such as the fire marshal and police. None expressed severe concern about the event, according to the town board.

    “I just think that’s a huge imposition to put on the overall community,” Mr. Van Scoyoc said last Thursday night. “And the residences, and the lake. I just think the impact of this. . . . It’s taking on too big a project, and an application on too short a notice. If you booked a motel anywhere around there, it might be a problem,” he said. “If you’re planning on coming to Montauk and spending the night on your boat, it might be a problem.”

    Councilwoman Theresa Quigley pointed out that the event permit application had been vetted by all of the appropriate town departments, and that the event has taken place annually for several years. “The point is this is not an event that’s brand new,” she said. Last year’s party was shut down by officials before midnight.

    “I believe the chief of police reviewed it, and I’m not going to start analyzing,” she said.

    Mr. Stanzione said that he had spoken to Chief Ecker and was satisfied that plans to stage the party had undergone “due diligence. But I’m still not happy with the way it was processed,” he said. He suggested that, in the future, applications for permits for events of a similar size reach the town board earlier, so that there is time for discussion before a decision must be reached.

    “That is a lot of people to put on Star Island,” Ms. Overby said, “whether you bus them in” and especially “on the busiest weekend of the year.”

    Ms. Overby questioned the cost to taxpayers for police overtime, fire marshals, and the like.

    Mr. Stanzione asked whether the party sponsor would be charged, as is the town’s policy, but none of the board members had an answer.

    While many event permits include a tally of the cost of public services that will be charged to the organizers, the resolution approving the Shark Attack party does not. It states only that “the applicant has made arrangements for an ambulance and two emergency medical technicians to be on site,” and that they will “maintain contact with town police and the Montauk ambulance squad “to advise and request additional assistance if required.”

    Another question centered on a reference in the permit approval resolution to the party serving as a fund-raiser for the Montauk Playhouse Community Center. “I don’t know how it got in the resolution,” Mr. Wilkinson said, noting that the reference was not in the permit application.

    Board members revised the terms of the permit to require that music at the event end at 11 p.m. The party is slated to go from 6 p.m. till 2 a.m.

    Proposed changes to the East Hampton Town noise ordinance, whereby unacceptable noise would be calculated by the degree of its loudness above a reading of ambient noise, drew criticism almost across the board at a hearing before the town board last Thursday night.

    Some said that tying a standard to the ambient noise level is a fair way to go, though the draft law needs work. Others said the town should stick to its existing code — which restricts noise above 65 decibels during the day and above 50 decibels from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. — and abandon the proposed new approach. The proposed ordinance, they said, sets no acceptable maximum standard for noise, so as the town gets noisier, the threshold for a noisy activity to be deemed a disturbance and subject to summons also goes up.

    “It has no limit,” Jeffrey Bragman, an East Hampton attorney, said. “I call it a ‘battle of the bands’ law. If you have three bands cranking, then the fourth band gets to play even louder. Wherever the most noise is, we’ll legalize more.”

    “East Hampton has exceptionally quiet ambient noise throughout,” he said. “This is a part of the fabric of enjoyment of living here.”

    The existing noise ordinance is “a good law,” Mr. Bragman said, and is consistent with others throughout the country. “It’s a stop-sign law. It has a fixed standard that’s relatively clear.”

    Sixty-five decibels, he said, “isn’t an excessively strict limit.” The proposed ordinance, Mr. Bragman said, “fails to look at noise as a community impact. From my point of view, it looks at, ‘Gee, how can we make it easier for businesses?’ ”

    “Let’s not legalize escalating noise,” he said.

    Under the current code, said John Jilnicki, the town attorney, business owners have been complaining that they are receiving summonses for noise violations when the ambient noise in an area itself exceeds the maximum decibel level prescribed by the code. Under the proposed new system, he said, “a business owner isn’t penalized for the high background noise.”

    “We’re here tonight because of 15 years of bad code, and with this law, the town will continue that streak,” said Lawrence Kelly, an attorney representing the Sloppy Tuna, a Montauk bar, and other establishments.

    Mr. Kelly said that the proposed law, by allowing, in some instances, noise reaching only five decibels above the ambient level, “outlaws normal human interaction.” The limit, he said, should be 15 decibels above ambient noise, and the sound should be measured at a complainant’s residence, not, as proposed, at a point 15 feet from the source of the noise.

    The proposed law would allow readings to be taken from a public right of way. That, said Laraine Creegan, executive director of the Montauk Chamber of Commerce, would allow passersby to call in a complaint. Potential violations should only be measured at the property of those who are bothered by the noise, Ms. Creegan said. While tying the measure to ambient sound is the way to go, she said, “This ordinance is really not ready, as is. It’s pretty restrictive.”

    Margaret Turner, the executive director of the East Hampton Business Alliance, agreed. Definitions used in the code, such as that of “unreasonable noise,” are vague and could be subjective, she said.

    “Nice attempt to try to clarify current law,” said Paul Monte, the chief executive officer of Gurney’s Inn in Montauk, who said that, in making his comments, he wore a number of additional hats, including as a resident, president of the Montauk Chamber of Commerce, member of the Montauk Citizens’ Voice, and a patron of establishments that present music. But, he said, “I would appreciate if this would go back to the drawing board,” with a business representative participating in new discussions. “Business zones should have a little more leeway, because it’s business,” he said. And, said Mr. Monte, the status of places that pre-exist and do not conform to current zoning should be considered.

    “This issue is always posed as an issue of resident versus business,” Mr. Monte said. “But let’s not lose sight of the patrons. They enjoy music that may be too loud for other people. But they have rights also. They need to be recognized also.”

    “Mr. Monte just nailed it,” said Tom MacNiven, an East Hampton resident. “I like loud music; maybe louder than it should be. But I also like peace and quiet at my home. So hopefully we can strike a balance.”

    Mr. MacNiven said that he would like to see the noise ordinance changed to decrease the hours that noise made by contractors or landscapers is allowed. “Seven is too early,” he said, referring to the time in the morning that they may start, “and eight is too late,” he said, referring to an 8:30 p.m. stop time prescribed in the current code. “I know it’s a short season to make money,” Mr. MacNiven said. “It’s a short season to barbecue, too.”

    And, he added, he would like to see the town address helicopter noise, too. “None of this matters if you can’t hear” the other noises due to aircraft noise, he said.

    The proposed noise ordinance is “very confusing,” said Debra Foster, a former town board member. It has “absolutely no standards. None. Zero.”

    “There is no incentive to just lower the volume a little bit,” she said. “It rewards people that are cranking it.”

     “You are rewarding ambient noise that’s louder and louder. There’s a continuing vortex of escalating sound that’s just going to go on, because you’re always going to have some decibels above ambient. So let the good times roll.”

    Chris Pfund, a sound engineer who works for a number of Montauk establishments, said that comparing an alleged noise disturbance to the existing ambient sound is extremely important, as under the current law, “it’s become impossible to comply, and the reason we have such enforcement issues.”

    Standards used across the country, he said, allow 10 decibels of sound above the ambient noise level, or 5 decibels above after 11 p.m. The various levels outlined in the draft ordinance, and other details, he said, are problematic, and the draft needs more work. He offered to participate in fine-tuning it.

    Anne Maegli shared comments made by her husband, a sound engineer who, she said, “owns one of the biggest sound companies in New York,” and had reviewed the new and proposed noise ordinances.

    She said he questioned “why a quiet town like the Town of East Hampton” would set a 50-decibel level for “noise” when New York City has a “hard and fast number at 42 decibels.”

    And, she said, there should be a difference between what’s allowed in a business district and in a residential zone, “because you go to a business district” by choice, and do not have to be subject to its activities.

    The couple lives near Ruschmeyer’s bar and restaurant, and they have come to the board often to complain about disturbances in the neighborhood because of that site.

    “Is that our ambient?” she asked. Much of the public discussion, she said, centers on music, but that’s not always the problem. “It’s too many people,” she said. “I’m more concerned about crowd noise.”

    “Noise is a symptom of the fact that we’re letting a lot of the pre-existing, nonconforming businesses expand well beyond” their original size, Ms. Maegli said.

    “I’m looking at this as a cultural issue,” Joe Nye said. “People come out to let their hair down. I guess I’m asking for a tolerance,” he said.

    Take a look at real estate ads and you will notice that the names of certain brokers keep cropping up on the ultra high-priced listings: Gary DePersia, Harald Grant, Tim Davis, the mother-and-son team Susan and Matthew Breitenbach. . . .

This week’s column is devoted to exploring the secrets of success of some of these top producers while also checking in with others who are hoping that there’s room for them at the top.

    Robert Lohman, an agent who works out of Corcoran’s Southampton office, calls the superstar agents “whales,” a term used in Vegas for high rollers who wager more than $500,000 an hour at the tables. “The rest of us,” he said, “are second tier.” He also mentioned a third tier of those agents who drop out of the game as the going gets tough.

     Mr. Lohman began his real estate career in 1985. It was a natural segue from his work as an interior architect, in which he was often asked to prescreen houses for clients. A glance at his pages on the Sotheby’s site shows that he currently lists several properties, from a First Neck Lane estate for $4,999,999 to a waterfront parcel of land in Quogue for $245,000. His listings total about $16 million, nothing to sneeze at, but nowhere near the juggernaut of someone such as Mr. DePersia, whose site claims his current listings at $400 million.

    “Everyone has something they bring to the table,” said Mr. Lohman. In his case, it is an eye for seeing “design potential.”

    “Some come from Wall Street,” he said, and bring a client base, while others “come from marketing and know how to get the property out there.” When it comes to the whales, he said, “Each had a hook and were able to keep it going.”

    Mr. Grant credits his big break to his former mother-in-law, Pat Patterson, who was an agent at Sotheby’s. Ms. Patterson got the former Ford model an interview at the firm in 1987 and then sent him referrals, including the client who put him in the “big leagues,” David Koch, who purchased the most expensive house in the Hamptons at the time, 1990, for $7.2 million.

    Still at the Sotheby’s Southampton office, Mr. Grant claims on his Web site that The Wall Street Journal cited him as the “Hamptons’ number one agent for individual sales volume.” It also reads that he has “ranked among the top 10 nationwide for several years,” boasting more than $1 billion in sales so far.

    Norwegian by birth — he moved to Bay Ridge in Brooklyn when he was 7 — he currently maintains well over $200 million in listings. Up until a couple of weeks ago that included Bridgehampton’s Two Trees Farm for $55 million. However, the owner took it off market to “develop it into private homes sites,” according to Mr. Grant. His current listings include Linden, a 10-acre Southampton estate, for $45 million, a Norman Jaffe oceanfront for $24 million, and a $36 million bayfront estate on North Haven.

    But he maintains that he’s not opposed to working with properties under $1 million. “I’m taking a nice lady out now,” he said, “showing her condos up to $750,000.” When asked what he has sold so far this year, he rattled off a few properties off the top of his head: “an oceanfront asking 28, another for 26, one for 14, a Mecox Bay for 19. . . .”

    Like Mr. Grant’s site, Mr. DePersia’s also claims that his real estate transactions total more than $1 billion. “His inventory is currently more than $400 million including Bridgehampton’s incredible Sandcastle residence, Shelter Island’s 36-acre waterview horse farm known as Paard Hill, Water Mill’s Mecox Bay estate Rose Hill Point, as well as over a dozen new construction projects,” it reads. The Paard Hill estate was recently sold.

    Mr. DePersia, whose early career was in the “rag trade,” credits many factors to his success. Joining Allan M. Schneider Associates (now the Corcoran Group) at the outset is one, he believes. “If I’d started at a small firm, I wouldn’t have gotten where I am.” At Schneider he met Peter Hallock, a legendary broker “who was instrumental in my early success.”

    He also recalls a couple of “aha” moments that kept him on track. One was his realization that, though he found himself based in East Hampton, many clients didn’t want to make the trek that far east. So, “I learned all the other markets,” he said. “Seventeen years ago, that wasn’t the case; you mostly sold in your area.”

    His next “epiphany” came when he started spending big money on advertising. He was surprised that his fellow agents used “mundane” images and descriptions in their ads. He hired an ad guy full time, John Lasurdo, who now has his own design firm but still counts Mr. DePersia as a client. “As I made money, I put it back into the business,” in the form of advertising. Mr. DePersia wouldn’t speculate on the size of his current ad budget, but he did say that his operation is so large he leases his own printer. “I think I’m the only broker to print an 8 to 12-page booklet, monthly.” In this brochure he features a selection of his current listings and distributes them from here to Aspen, Colo. “I probably have 40 listings at any time.”

    Mr. DePersia also has a team of agents who work with him, his “machine,” according to Mr. Lohman. Each shows houses as well as performs special tasks including proofing collateral, paying bills, and in the case of Dan Shafonda, handling overseas deals. When you’re such a powerhouse, why remain merely local?

    Having a team allows him to be thorough in his job. “When I get a listing, we do a full audit to know everything about it,” from the location of the gas tank to the well (if there is one). “We don’t show up to a presentation with a tear sheet,” he said. Instead, they bring those glossy brochures.

    And Mr. DePersia has WordHampton, a public relations firm, on retainer to further promote his doings.

    Every broker interviewed for this article cited “hard work” and “honesty” as the biggest components of their success, but that still doesn’t explain why all the hard-working, honest agents are not making killings.

    Some “second tier” agents such as Cynthia Kolbenheyer, with Corcoran in Southampton, need to be resourceful and clever. Ms. Kolbenheyer also runs two other businesses, a personal shopping club and Open Minded Concierge, a firm that refers her clients — often wealthy homeowners — to her local partners, mostly services from chefs to photographers to pool companies. The good news is that any one of these contacts can, and often do, become her real estate clients.

—

    Debra Scott is a recovering real estate agent, having plied the trade at Whitbread Nolan in Manhattan (back in the day), Vicki Bagley Realty in Washington, D.C., and Braverman Newbold Brennan before it was purchased by Sotheby’s International Realty.