Columnists

I was a wide-eyed greenhorn assigned to a night squad of world-weary veterans when I first joined the East Hampton Village Ambulance Association about five years ago.

Let’s hear it for knowledge, knowledge that can be applied to ameliorate the world’s ills.

Sometimes the do-it-yourself bug strikes because of a great interest in a particular craft; other times, it’s just the money. I am susceptible to both urges, as in a newfound passion for making crackers.

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.