Guestwords

Labor Day weekend is always bittersweet.

A retrospective for the most misunderstood artist of the 20th century.

On an August night 53 years ago, teenybopper screaming subsumed every sound. Then teenybopper weeping filled the giant soup bowl that was Shea Stadium. I wonder why we went?

The Broadway legend offered encouragement to a young composer and conductor, and it stuck with her for a lifetime.

I’ve watched Tom Wolfe at a church bazaar, was elbow to elbow with Bianca Jagger at the video store, browsed books with Billy Joel, shopped for antiques with Martha Stewart, and saw Candice Bergen outside Citarella. I admit it, whenever I see someone famous, I go a little goofy.

Playing Major League Baseball might have been my dream come true. Or my death sentence.

As social workers and educators, the lens through which we consider the migrant and refugee is deeply rooted in humanistic values and a faith-based tradition of welcoming strangers. Whatever your view of the immigration “debate,” it is imperative to acknowledge each person’s dignity as a human being.

When Memorial Day approached, my thoughts turned to Henry David Thoreau. Like him, I “want but little.” Where better to get in touch with nature and contemplate the meaning of life than our house in the Hamptons?

Despite two failed marriages, I still loved men. The way they smell. The way they see life. The way it feels to kiss them. I knew I couldn’t find myself on a diet of self-help, yoga, and girlfriends, as much as I love those things. The naked truth was that I needed men to get over the men who’d let me down. In fact, I needed a lot of them. 

“UFO Sightings Desk Reference,” a county-by-county compilation of saucer sightings in all 50 states, ranked Suffolk County as number one, with 554 U.F.O.s reported from 2001 to 2015. Here are some of the most notable sightings over East Hampton and Montauk.

There’s an old saying that comedy equals tragedy plus time. Which must be why bad house guests are much funnier (after the fact) than good guests. All I know is they’re much more fun to write about than actually live through.

The humble, lovable box turtle, a methodical, omnivorous, unmistakable symbol of slow-and-steady, was once far more common on the East End, but this unique local animal is far from being a lost cause.