Columnists

“Us,” the PBS mini-series that ran on “Masterpiece” — every married couple should see it.

Many times over the last 13 years, since my daughter arrived home at the age of 1, I’ve wanted to astonish everyone with my own list of all the tasks and errands I accomplish daily. I can hardly believe, myself, that I wake up by 6:30, and not infrequently by 5:45 a.m., in order to begin the varied and often esoteric chores of momming, from goldfish-feeding to trumpet-renting.

Yesterday, in the throes of a flushed feeling of unease, “a full-body tingling” that seems to occur monthly whose cause has yet to be determined by the cardiologists — that it doesn’t happen every night when the NewsHour’s on can be counted a blessing — I answered “not very well” when asked, casually, how I was feeling.

We have entered red-pickup season.

We should see our history whole, not just cherry-pick the good parts.

It was a proud father moment for me watching the East Hampton Village Board meeting two weeks ago.

Best diner ever.

It seems to me that we Americans assume that the things we surround ourselves with are made not by actual people, but through some form of immaculate extrusion.

How about the worker bees getting their due for a change?

It’s 2021 and the voices of artificial intelligence that call our landlines attempting grand larceny never sound as human as Hal 9000 did.

When I interrupt, it isn’t because I want to stifle discussion, it’s because I want to extend it.

How pleasant it must have been to be an inhabitant of that now-distant Cheever America of General Electric affluence, Buicks and Panasonics, and 10,000 swimming pools.