Guestwords

What is it about Sag Harbor that brings out the spirits?

Because I can physically see the work getting done as I rake, I view things with a beneficence I can’t summon in life’s more static moments.

Recollections of a day in Missouri when everyone was a Cardinal.

On Columbus Day weekend, revisiting Philip Roth’s breakthrough collection with an eye on identity politics.

The more people learn about roosters, the more they will appreciate them and want them to have full lives. They will even develop positive attitudes toward their crowing.

The problem these days is not just the quantity of the traffic, it’s the quality.

Mike Gordon was a dear friend I had met on the softball field in Bridgehampton. The melding of machismo and kindness in one man was irresistible.

This Sunday marks a new, overdue, and outright joyous event in Hamptons history: the launch of its first organization devoted exclusively to Pride.

After a decade of renewed participation in Jewish life, I see the new year celebration not as a misplaced jolt of spirituality but as an integral part of the religious calendar, a culminating event and a fresh beginning.

I remember vividly the first Moby-Dick Marathon reading at my bookshop in Sag Harbor. Some 38 years ago — June 16, 1983, to be exact.

Time is the priceless container of all we have, and, after all, it will get used up eventually. For those of us who are not young, it feels like a cheat — a blank in what is left of our time.

Ah, the competition and camaraderie of hoops.