Opinion

In what could be the first of sweeping relaxation of zoning laws, the East Hampton Village Board last week made it easier for the owners of large properties to get more of what they apparently wanted.

One of the things that was supposed to get us through the Covid-19 lockdowns was learning something new.

Do you want to know what year people stopped smiling and saying “hello” as they passed one another on the sidewalks of East Hampton? That would be the year of our Lord 1994.

A storm’s merely glancing blow leaves a parent free to focus on a daughter’s wrenching departure for college.

Perhaps the calamitous end to the endless war in Afghanistan will finally persuade us that a liberal democracy cannot be grafted through force of arms onto other societies.

I remember vividly the first Moby-Dick Marathon reading at my bookshop in Sag Harbor. Some 38 years ago — June 16, 1983, to be exact.

Ongoing conversations about East Hampton Airport could muddle public opinion, leaving a path for the board to avoid having to make the tough decision at all.

Certainly Covid-19 vaccines are near-miraculous, but they are no magic force field for everyone.

Do we believe that East Hampton could handle another decade of similar growth?

I had been upstairs in the main newsroom working with our August interns when we heard several loud thumps above the usual background noise from outside.

I’m writing this in a blaze of blinding sun and white concrete, poolside at the Lighthouse Inn on Cape Cod, whither the kids and I have hied ourselves for a last-minute, three-night mini-cation. The Lighthouse Inn is a family-run resort founded in 1938, a cottage colony by the sea. A band was playing “Build Me Up, Buttercup” and “Sweet Caroline” by the water’s edge as we checked in.

Mets games over the AM radio only make a trip to Citi Field itself that much sweeter. As long as the rain holds off . . .