Columnists

A vacation in “Centereach with palm trees.”

What out-dumbs TikTok?

A return to a vastly changed Commonwealth Avenue and Boston University — and its famous racing facility.

A nationwide “protest for euphoria.”

Used to be that there had to be a persistent northeast blow for the water to pile up. Not anymore.

After the blood drive.

“Our dying world” is what one podcast host says whenever he has to refer to the planet Earth or where we spend our waking hours.

A conservative school up the Island goes all-in on classical education. Attention must be paid.

This week, I went back to Facebook to be reminded of the humorous things my children said when they were little.

Remembering the greatest play in National Football League history.

Reflections on the deaths of four young people on their way home from worship in 1716.

Our family has an overdeveloped muscle for nostalgia, and the kitchen is the epicenter where we exercise it.

As one Trump acolyte in Iowa said, “It’s good not to be liked — being strong is better.”

After a few days when the ponds were frozen enough to skate on, we might as well start looking forward to the boating season.

Across Long Island Sound in the Nutmeg State, a legislator has been trying to get ranked-choice voting to stick since 2017.

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 funniest scene in the funniest television program was the moment in the old “Andy Griffith Show” when Gomer Pyle makes a citizen’s arrest of Barney Fife on the Main Street of Mayberry. And does the idea ever have staying power.

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 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.

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.

The efficacy, benefits, and weirdness of hypnosis.

Vermont’s aging population is pleading for help up there, and people who want to work in this country are being beaten back at the Rio Grande. Go figure.

American men start to pick up books on Rome or dial in the History Channel for its endless depictions of gladiators and battle strategy almost the minute they turn 50.

Another lame-ass winter brings thoughts of cabin life up north. Way up north.