Columnists

Subconsciously, as has long been the case with Christmas, I may want Thanksgiving to just go away.

And now you will be treated, reader, to the boring column in which I describe the circumstances in which I finally caught Covid-19.

Evidently, there is “a more brotherly mood” abroad in the nation than I had thought.

I have a visual memory of the recipe for oysters Rattray in my mother’s handwriting on a piece of paper tucked into a cookbook.

A failed home repair has a columnist fondly recalling life without running water.

People, it seems, have been voting against their best interests for years, since Reagan proselytized on behalf of trickle-down economics, which turned out not to raise all boats, just yachts.

Cerberus came out of the water last week, formally ending my sailing season.

It was one all-stater and a strong finish for the Pierson girls cross-country team at the New York State championship meet in Vernon.

Notes from a five-night film festival at sea, sponsored by the Turner Classic Movies channel.

A charming upstate downtown can get a guy thinking.

One of my great pleasures is perusing old cookbooks to see how people ate and entertained in other eras.

They say it’s “the beautiful game,” and yet some teams that play soccer in a less beautiful, even ugly fashion, can win as often as not — as Half Hollow Hills West did here on Halloween — through untrammeled will.