Columnists

There’s a place for everything and everything’s not in its place is more or less the maxim I have lived by.

A favorite tree behind the Star office will soon be no more, thanks to a disease affecting beeches that is spread by a newly discovered nematode.

“Annotating is garbage,” my son said. “Annotating is how you ruin a book.”

Thoughts on Joe Flacco, the hard-luck Jets, and team loyalty.

I don’t know why the sculpture of a bull was put up in Herrick Park. Is it to remind us of Wall Street, which also has one?

My son, Ellis’s, first game as a member of the East Hampton Middle School football team comes up this week, and it has gotten me thinking about when I was his age and switched schools, too.

Sometimes a smell is more than just a smell, and we need to lift up the rug and see what's festering.

A 5K in Sag Harbor joins road racing with historical sightseeing and live music.

Autumn has its music too, Keats said, though it’s not all that melancholic at the moment to my mind because, with 11 high school teams to cover, I must be nimble.

Everything is a scam. That is what I tell my friends, family, and co-workers about basically anything that comes in from an unfamiliar number or email address. “Never answer the phone,” I say to them.

No one says “doggie bag” anymore. And who thought we’d have an opportunity to use the word “catafalque” in 2022? Also on my imaginary list of trendy words of the year, I nominate the phrase “out of pocket.” Everyone is saying “out of pocket” right now, but everyone is using it to mean something different.

So what’s it gonna be, college-wise, core curriculum lockdown or pick and choose your classes as you see fit?

The very day that Peter Spacek’s chigger cartoon appeared in our paper two weeks ago I got them.

For all the boats kept around here, most are idle most of the time.

The unexpected appearance of hummingbirds has been a highlight of the summer.

One of the major thrusts in our founding documents, as I understand them, was to shield this democratic republic from autocracy.

Avoiding the leaf litter and damp grass where up to a thousand or more tick larvae lurk is the best strategy this time of the year.

When I navigated off the interstate, I knew exactly where the graveyard would be with Kerouac’s grave.

The D.H. comes to the National League, and no one misses the old ways.

Where meanness, which surfaces every now and then, comes from I don’t know.

Step outside of the East Hampton Star building on Main Street on a summer day and there is a very high probability that a private jet will be overhead.

We’re going to get petty this week, reader. Let’s get trifling. Let’s talk about signage.

Shades of Jimmy Carter, the part of my hair suddenly switched sides.

I must say, in retrospect, that if the coronavirus were still raging, Authors Night would have been a good place to catch it.

As August rolls to a leisurely close, a minor mystery has returned to my neighborhood: the Cranberry Hole Road banana bandit is back after a long absence. 

And now for the budget portion of our Italian vacation.

From streaming services to superheroes, it’s sensory overload.

Don’t look back, as Satchel Paige said, for something might be gaining on you.

A hero of roadside seed spreading.

My extremely rudimentary ideas of Rome previously came from the movies.