Columnists

Deer do not read The Star. As best as I can tell, neither do the rabbits that ate my parsley last summer.

Encounters with Loudon Wainwright III.

Getting away from the week’s distractions would not be as easy as I had expected.

Let’s hear it for freedom.

Whenever Mark Shields would ask Judy Woodruff during his Friday evening discussions with David Brooks if he could say just one thing, Mary and I would come to the edge of our seats, she on the small couch, I on the recliner, knowing he was about to speak from the heart to our better angels.

A chance conversation last week while I was waiting for my food pickup at La Fondita got me thinking about the way those of us who work for a living on the South Fork talk about summer.

Lawrence Block’s hard-boiled romance of the down-and-out.

It’s getting hard to keep a grasp on what is and isn’t the right thing to do or to permit, with this teenage girl of mine.

So where, exactly, is the popular will most manifestly expressed?

This column debuted exactly two years ago this week. I’m trying to think of what has changed in those two years.

Close to the day in which we are to celebrate the document that almost 250 years ago asserted our unity in opposition to tyranny, we find ourselves confronting it again.

Cerberus was later getting into the water than I had expected this year.

Being by the ocean is not, to me, a frivolous pursuit.

Things are comfortable here, so much so that one wants to stay put.

A goodbye to Little League and its ball field.

At last, lyrics you could sink your teeth into.

I’m intrigued by the fact that I’ve been diagnosed with paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia.

It’s important to talk about how social media distorts the digital world we see — and don’t see.

Convenience mart food, and food for thought, at a pit stop in the land of plenty.

I’m not going to go gentle into that good night.

What’s all this fuss about lawn care?

I have actually considered if I would or wouldn’t bow, if and when I were to meet Queen Elizabeth.

Countries like Britain, Scotland, Australia, New Zealand, and Canada, all chagrined by mass shootings at one time or another, have all effectively enacted gun safety laws.

When people complain about tape, most times, it seems to me, they are talking about red. But in my case, my beef is with blue, literally.

Is it weird that I think of mortality — transience and permanence — whenever I drive my car on the New Jersey Turnpike?

Covid worries and pollen aside, I can think of nowhere else I’d rather be at this time of year.

Living where I do down in the dunes past Amagansett, ticks are just part of the scenery.

When your kids start going to the movies without you.

There is a little-known grave­site in East Hampton where the remains of Nathaniel R. Arch, a genuine United States war hero, lie.

Did those who died in this country’s wars, who defended an egalitarian, optimistic, forward-looking society, die so that its lawmaking bodies would simply sit on their hands doing nothing, stymied when confronted with issues demanding action?