Columnists

Things keep breaking. In 2023, the infant year, I’ve accidentally dropped and smashed plenty.

The potential for explosive, cathartic moments is what leads us to play sports and to watch them, and it seems that with a number of them the possibility of serious injury, or even death, is ever present.

Rooftop solar on the early-1960s house I live in provides me with a reason to gloat: electric bills that run a steady $14 a month.

Notes from a Jeremy Strong fan club member.

I am now on my second plug-in hybrid electric vehicle, at a combined gas and electric of 100 or more miles per gallon the way I drive it.

I had no Covid symptoms, but that apparently, according to what I read, wasn’t necessarily a cause for celebration.

Adventures at the Whitney, on the High Line, and in a lost New York.

My brother, Dan, used to say that one could survive perfectly well eating nothing other than brown rice and clams.

The Ukrainian president cuts through the nonsense.

On Boxing Day . . .

I read in a recent New York Press Association publication an article suggesting that journalists be more broad-minded when writing about the elderly. Six “tips” were proffered. Here are mine.

As with so many things in life as the years tick-tick-tick by, it takes rather more priming of the pump than it used to to achieve the right holiday atmosphere.