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By chance, my son, Ellis, and I became East Hampton 7-on-7 soccer fans last week.
It is no longer a secret. Nicknamed Lip, he’s involved. Man knows some moneyed types. The mayor and town supervisor won’t say — they have guaranteed use of the old rescue boats stashed at undisclosed locations.

I didn’t understand what was happening until years later, but the realization will remain with me always. It was 1982 and all my husband and I thought about was how we were going to raise our two young children and pay our newly acquired home mortgage with its 17-percent interest rate.

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Find out what has been bought and sold around the South Fork.

“I wanted to put the essence of my reader on the page . . . to move him out of his genteel, benign, suburban WASP landscape. I wanted to circumcise the sucker and transplant him from the Jazz Age from whence he came to the Age of Anxiety, from Babbittry and Dale Carnegie to Sigmund Freud. . . .”
Lucy Winton’s Wainscott studio is in a whitewashed barn with two large roll-up garage doors. Inside, the space is white, vast, and almost empty of furnishings, but the walls are covered with art. The adjacent bay is the studio of Bryan Hunt, a sculptor who has been her companion for 14 years.
Shame on you, Mark Bittman, for slamming spinach in your April 12, 2012, New York Times column. In it you refer to spinach as the “homework” of vegetables, you slam the ’70s fad of spinach salads, and say this is the “least convincing” or tasty way to prepare Spinacia oleracea, honorable member of the beet family. I admire you, sir, but here you...
Over the last several months, the guitarist G.E. Smith has brought a number of unique performances to Bay Street Theater in Sag Harbor. In October, he, Jim Weider, and Larry Campbell presented “Masters of the Telecaster,” an ensemble performance in which each played his favored electric guitar, the Fender Telecaster.