Columnists

It is about 30 miles in a more or less straight line from Point Judith, R.I., to the Montauk Inlet. My friend Jameson and I made the crossing Saturday, sailing Cerberus to its new home.

Can we talk? About, oh, the pointlessness of Supreme Court confirmation hearings?

I am only too happy to revisit Midtown. I will never see another youthful dawn in Alphabet City, but there will always be Macy’s.

One of the many things that struck me on my recent and ongoing sail from Marblehead, Mass., to East Hampton is how accommodating the communities on the other side of the water are to passing boaters, especially as compared to Long Island.

Streaming television is supposed to be sleek and high-tech, but its nether reaches remind me of the old UHF channels.

Last week, a production crew from a PBS show called “Legacy List” landed on Edwards Lane to film an episode — starring my house, my family, and the contents of my attic, basement, and barn.

I know my social media apps and Google search history are tracked, but now I am starting to think that Duolingo is spying on me, too.

“Cancel” is the word of the year, and not just in the social-shunning sense.

This column is being written toward sunset from the harbor at Plymouth, Mass. Alone time, something so many of us say we want, is elusive, but I have had time to think this week.

What exactly does it mean when you can’t finish a book — not once, but over and over again?

A creeping dread — of finding ourselves homebound again, wearing fuzzy slippers and harassed expressions around the kitchen table, bickering about who ate the last Klondike Bar — has driven me to wallow in as much outdoor time as I possibly can before the temperature falls.

Since we are all still feeling our way around remote work and online meetings, I thought that I would ask my high school junior for a few tips.