Columnists

I was delighted to tell Mary the other day what I’d learned, to wit, that the Gaelic word saoirse “means freedom . . . the freedom to be and to express yourself.”

The osprey’s success story.

The world of 1970s snackitude was fully encompassing, a total sensory experience of taste, texture, aroma, sound, and vision.

Asked by an interviewer recently if I could describe the two Covid years in one word, I replied, “Constraint.”

It was one of those little moments when something someone casually says can change your trajectory for good.

When expressions of thanks are unfailingly met with more thanks . . .

For the first time in my memory, we have not a single letter to the editor about East Hampton Airport.

We went to the Sag Harbor Cinema recently, and in leaving I said to Mary that we’d never again have to go to New York City.

Sag Harbor’s mayor alludes to a stigma on wheels.

Personality-driven commentary and ingratiating displays of concern in place of reporting is exactly what the father of the 24-hour news cycle, Ted Turner, did not want.

Do teenagers still pool-hop at strangers’ homes in the best ZIP codes? I hope they do.

You would think that Vladimir Putin would have chosen a sport other than judo, “the gentle way.” 

In the coming weeks, work on an initial set of five bronze bricks bearing the names of enslaved people will begin.

We feel that March is the true start of the year, just as it’s obvious that February is the year’s gruesome and grizzled end.

The benefits of bilingual education, especially on Long Island, are obvious.

Big birds of prey seem to be all around, and my perch in the dunes off Cranberry Hole Road is a decent enough place to see them.

The challenges of a nightly reading habit.

Yes, Virginia, you can always improve.

Tom Edmonds of the Southampton History Museum and Victoria Berger of the Suffolk County Historical Society have been suspended for featuring Ku Klux Klan-related material and programming.

The weirdness of the Beijing Winter Olympics was perfectly mirrored by the intricacies and dead zones of NBC’s Peacock streaming service.

Thoughts from the Grand Velas resort on whether there are two kinds of people in this world: package-vacation people and independent-travel people.

Two essential graphic novels on the occasion of Black History Month.

The news keeps reporting studies that conclude remote work is more productive work, but those studies are clearly incorrect.

Continuing in the same vein as last week, more excerpts from “Five Characters in Search of an Editor,” read 50 years ago at Guild Hall.

Four years ago when a few of us began looking into early East Hampton’s relationship with slavery, we were met with a cocked head and some variation of “We don’t have anything about slavery.”

Facebook is more interesting in Nova Scotia.

It’s funny, but when you’re looking for something, something else, something that you had given up looking for years ago, turns up.

Black History Month has been busy here in recent years, since The Star and the East Hampton Library began looking into the history of slavery in earnest in the summer of 2017.

This sounds cheap, but I’d like to protest the disappearance of soup and sandwiches at the mobile New York Blood Center drives.

Rather than kind acts, it’s the failures to act kindly that I tend to remember.