David Gruber makes a good case for himself — for some public role, but not the role of town supervisor. Foremost among our concerns is his temperament: We have never known Mr. Gruber to admit he has been wrong, and he can be relentless in his attacks on those who differ with him. These are not helpful qualities in an elected official, much less the de facto leader and chief spokesperson for the town. A supervisor must be not just a combatant, but a skillful peacemaker, too.
It’s the rhythm of the natural world that keeps us grounded, and what we need most in desperate times. That’s what I came to understand when I was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer.
Friends met us for dinner at one of our favorite East Hampton restaurants last week, and handed us a surprising small gift: a copy of an outlandish million-dollar bill. The bill — faux, obviously — had skulls in the front upper corners and a red, yellow, and cream nuclear explosion where George Washington is supposed to be. On the other side, along with an image of some children, was the message: “Let us spend this money on a sustainable world for all of our kids.”
The village police closed North Main Street where it goes under the train trestle on Sunday during a heavy rain. Passing by on my way upstreet, I could see the brown water swirling in the dip beneath the bridge.