Togetherness through cards.
It’s Tuesday morning at 10 minutes to 10, and I have somehow neglected to come up with a subject for this week’s column, which needs to be turned in by 2:20 this afternoon.
Hobbled and fearing the worst, I jumped at a chance to see my knee doctor in Great Neck on the Tuesday before Christmas.
The first-ever issue of this paper read in a gothic font, “The Easthampton Star.” Seeing the name of the town as one word has raised the question of when East Hampton became two words and if it ever properly was just one.
Radio seems to be surviving the advent of the internet, doesn’t it? Reading suffers, print media staggers, but listening goes on. I’m a radio person. You are or you aren’t.
It's always easier to destroy than to build, Mary keeps telling me. Perhaps that's why we're at each other's throats, on the Internet and elsewhere — it's easier.
It seems everyone took up at least one new thing during the pandemic. What with few or no social obligations and nowhere to go, we have tried to learn a fresh skill or do better at a familiar chore. Cleaning the kitchen has never been so interesting!
It's Spidey to the rescue — of cinemas. And just in time, before the hacking, feverish world backslides into another lockdown.
Yes, “play looser” is good advice, good advice in general, I’d say.
Two hundred sixteen years ago today, a woman enslaved by Samuel L’Hommedieu in Sag Harbor gave birth to a boy.
Stephen Sondheim on the good, the bad, and the unheard.
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