There is a political divide in East Hampton but it’s not the one you might think. Instead, on lawn signs and in letters to the editor, local candidates are said to be running for the “town council.” Though the East Hampton Town Board has forever...
I read recently a column by an 88-year-old who had discovered it was contentment that kept his peers going. What happened to “Rage, rage against the dying of the light”?
I love the movies and saw every film I could get tickets for during the Hamptons International Film Festival last weekend, but one movie in particular left me with something of an emotional hangover.
A close friend called on Tuesday to say he had been in the hospital emergency room overnight for treatment for an allergic reaction to meat.
When a woman with whom we were talking one night at Cittanuova said she had never felt she was any better or any less than anyone else, I said, “That’s it.”
You know what they look like. You have passed through them countless times, mostly in the middle but sometimes side by side with another car, holding your breath and your car’s breath hoping you get through unscathed.
The word “community” came to life under sunny skies on Sunday afternoon at the East Hampton Historical Farm Museum, where a large party of locals gathered around outdoor tables for a turkey dinner
If you are looking for a break from the bustle of the film festival this weekend, one of the more untrammeled options is the modest farm museum on North Main Street in East Hampton.
A month from now we’ll know if there will be a course correction politically, as many hope, though how many will back up that hope by voting — presumably for a more evenhanded, more thoughtful, less lacerating society — remains to be seen. I hope...
The busy season was over, or so we thought, when two events proved otherwise.
A dead whale washed up at Indian Wells Beach in Amagansett on Monday. Another hit the beach east of the Maidstone Club yesterday. Predictably much of the response was downcast. “Sad,” some said, implying that human activity in the sea was to blame.
They say “The Bookshop” is boring, which, of course, quickened my pulse. I have loved boring movies for years, and, in fact, once suggested that a new studio, M.B.M. (More Boring Movies), be formed to market them.
Hurricane Esther had weakened into a tropical storm by the time its winds doubled back on eastern Long Island in September of 1961, and as a newcomer to East Hampton with no experience of the effects of heavy weather in coastal regions, I was...