Guestwords

After months of struggling to do it, I asked my brother to come get my sailboat — not because I do not love the beauty of it and the worlds it promised me, but because at some point I have to face reality and not just my dreams.

When it comes to statues, I would like to advance the idea that the Confederates are in a class by themselves.

A few recent painting experiences have brought me around to a new way of seeing what contemporary art is telling us about the disappearance of the open landscape.

Two veteran journalists overcome all manner of obstacles to put together a program to celebrate the centennial of women’s suffrage, while taking a fresh look at the latest threats of voter suppression.

The coronavirus amplifies many of the inequalities in our society. The wealthy can afford to self-isolate; the vulnerable are more so than ever. This extends to far too many children — the most innocent among us.

My success at underachieving is undoubtedly my extraordinary ability at staying supine on the couch. During these difficult days, what more valuable skill than the ability to put in long-term couch time.

I have a question about the plans for a new park in Wainscott, at the site of the memorable, irreplaceable Club Swamp.

The passing of Carl Reiner reminds us of an era when perhaps 80 percent of leading comics were Jewish. The passing of a style of humor we might call earthy, clever, slapstick, and/or Jewish.

In recent years, while I migrated to South America, a multinational Latin American community has established roots here, and as I drive around town, I find myself becoming reacquainted with a new East Hampton.

It’s a rough job. The entire time driving the pumpout boat the operator is thinking, Once I get done pumping out this boat, I am going to tie this stinkpot up and offer my resignation.

Fifty years ago, on June 28, 1970, my husband, Rick, and I took our vows at the Jewish Center of the Hamptons on Woods Lane. Ours was the first wedding held at the Jewish Center, which 17 Jewish families, including mine, founded in 1959.

In the three months since we started home schooling our children, the global pandemic has made me feel like a 1950s housewife, sequestered at home with her colicky newborn, while also being a failing schoolteacher and homesteader.