Columnists

I wrote my own obituary not long ago, and when I showed it to a co-worker, she broke out in uncontrollable laughter.

Grade schoolers here woke up unhappy on Tuesday. There had been a bit of snow, but not enough for a delayed start, let alone a day off.

The pain of planned obsolescence.

The New Year’s Day plunges here were communal convocations as reassuring as any you’d find at a church or at any other gathering.

I am continually struck by how few attempts there have been at real-world data collection regarding the beaches here.

As if all its billions weren’t enough, the N.F.L. gets into bed with DraftKings.

Has the zeitgeist ever felt so apocalyptic?

The efficacy, benefits, and weirdness of hypnosis.

I tend to refer to cocktails of various kinds, but that’s not so much because I’m a drinker, as that I like the idea of a well-stocked bar cart of shiny bottles.

Aside from world peace, what else am I wishing in vain for in the new year, immortality apparently being out of the question? I’m just hoping to stay connected.

My grandmother was born in the house that makes up the core of town offices on Pantigo Road. With a new supervisor taking the corner office there, it seemed a good time to offer up a bit of its history.

I’m not a Christian, exactly, but I do believe in the winter solstice celebration of lights. The older I get, the closer I feel to ancestral rituals involving trees and bonfires.