Columnists

One of the major thrusts in our founding documents, as I understand them, was to shield this democratic republic from autocracy.

Avoiding the leaf litter and damp grass where up to a thousand or more tick larvae lurk is the best strategy this time of the year.

The unexpected appearance of hummingbirds has been a highlight of the summer.

The D.H. comes to the National League, and no one misses the old ways.

We’re going to get petty this week, reader. Let’s get trifling. Let’s talk about signage.

Where meanness, which surfaces every now and then, comes from I don’t know.

Step outside of the East Hampton Star building on Main Street on a summer day and there is a very high probability that a private jet will be overhead.

And now for the budget portion of our Italian vacation.

I must say, in retrospect, that if the coronavirus were still raging, Authors Night would have been a good place to catch it.

As August rolls to a leisurely close, a minor mystery has returned to my neighborhood: the Cranberry Hole Road banana bandit is back after a long absence. 

Shades of Jimmy Carter, the part of my hair suddenly switched sides.

Don’t look back, as Satchel Paige said, for something might be gaining on you.

A hero of roadside seed spreading.

From streaming services to superheroes, it’s sensory overload.

My extremely rudimentary ideas of Rome previously came from the movies.

The undiscovered country of Riverhead dining.

Whenever the subject of romance comes up, I like to say that I reached my peak of popularity in July 1979.

A coach’s argument that his prayers following high school football games were private and personal is hard to believe.

Deer have radically altered the microhabitat here.

Spaghetti-eaters have been scratching their names and initials into the wood paneling at Sam’s Restaurant on Newtown Lane since 1947.

I say the evidence as to Donald Trump’s criminal intent has been there all along.

An encounter with driveway theft.

Notes on the air-conditioning wars.

It’s depressing reading about young people’s apathy when it comes to voting.

A bunch of us had gone clamming off a boat on Sunday, which was the last I had seen the wallet.

A show for the (restaurant) working stiff.

I’m in the camp that believes the deer have got to go.

A summertime afternoon with the Hamptons Collegiate Baseball League.

I once read someplace that the popular song most frequently to be found on the jukeboxes of the Empire State was Sinatra’s “Summer Wind.”

To O’en, when he’s on the move, everything is new — the quotidian becomes all-absorbing. I envy him that.