Opinion

One night after a day walking the Napeague dunes, I stumbled across a rerun of the first episode of “The Affair,” which opens, lo and behold, at Napeague’s landmark Lobster Roll, where I ate my first lobster roll and met my first lover.

Having never hosted raccoons, I do what any logical man would do — slowly back out of the kitchen, locate my smartphone, and ask Google: “How do I get rid of raccoons?”

Late summer is gazpacho season at our house, which gets me thinking about one hot summer night in 1970 at the Bridgehampton home of Hal and Flo Williams, pioneers of organic gardening on the East End in the 1960s.

After decades of being invisible, all of a sudden I was seen again. The sense of emitting an electromagnetic force beyond my control recalled my first experience with the male gaze.

About half of the nation’s distressingly high number of suicides each year are accomplished with all too easily available firearms.

What is it about a banjo that invites such popular enthusiasm, musical intimacy, and political engagement? Béla Fleck has some answers.

One of the great but unknown authors of recent times will be celebrated at Guild Hall by actors including Bruce Willis.

In their grandest form, paid obituaries in The New York Times can occupy entire columns of pricey newspaper real estate, as loving family members or well-compensated publicity agents recount every instance back to that fifth-grade service award.

Prominent Montaukers of long tenure recall Richard Nixon’s fondness for the place, as “Frost/Nixon” successfully conjures the ex-president onstage at Bay Street Theater.

In 1987 I became the keeper of the Montauk Light Station when the Coast Guard left, and for 31 years I’ve ridden out every squall, hurricane, blizzard, and even Superstorm Sandy alone at the light.
The Star welcomes submissions of essays for its “Guestwords” column of between 700 and 1,200 words. Submissions can be sent for review by email, in text or Word format, to submissions@ehstar.com.

A local group has come together for a Walk for Interdependence, to keep families together, at the windmill in Sag Harbor on the Fourth of July at 11 a.m.

The Shinnecocks take no glee in the public disasters that have befallen Shinnecock Hills since the tribe was excommunicated, the indigenous people removed as caretakers of their own land. But you could call it karma.