Sometime in ’75 or ’76 a dispute about character and responsibility arose between myself and cartoonist-musician Chance Browne. It stemmed from an accident that happened on a wooded hillside near the Wilton reservoir. Here’s an account that I believe to be honest and reasonably thorough:
Chance, myself and a likable, somewhat eccentric fellow named Mike Connors (currently living in Michigan) were hiking around the reservoir for some reason. Our nature-tripping motive may have had something to do with Chance having recently bought (or been gifted with) an expensive pair of big binoculars, or nothing to do with this — I can’t recall. But he definitely had them looped around his neck.
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