Opinion

Agree with the message or not, the online disparagement of the Montauk Brewing Company long after it posted online support for the Black Lives Matter movement has been deeply disappointing.

One of the subtle delights of August can be found along the bays and inside harbors on the East Coast, as the first migrating shorebirds arrive from the north.

When reality throws you for a loop, there’s always the escapism of the Great American Comic Book.

A few recent painting experiences have brought me around to a new way of seeing what contemporary art is telling us about the disappearance of the open landscape.

At the moment, there appears to be just one local voice saying no to a proposed new hospital emergency annex on the site of two Little League fields centrally located off Pantigo Place in East Hampton.

As much as they might improve a dangerous situation, new bicycle lanes will not be coming anytime soon to rescue East End roads.

Searching for something for our weekly “Recovering the Past” contest, I found a photograph I had taken in August, almost exactly 30 years ago today.

Like many of us sinners, I spend too much time shopping on the internet.

In the ultimate presidential contest, which will hang on voter turnout, perhaps all you need to know about Joe Biden’s announcement Tuesday of Kamala Harris as his vice-presidential running mate is this: It was the Biden campaign’s best hour of fund-raising to date.

I’ve been waiting for someone to say something to me about the “Free Leonard Peltier” shirts I’ve been wearing.

Two veteran journalists overcome all manner of obstacles to put together a program to celebrate the centennial of women’s suffrage, while taking a fresh look at the latest threats of voter suppression.

It is a good question why the operators of so many resort properties and a restaurant or two do not believe local laws apply to them.

As part of their Covid-19 responses, East End towns and villages relaxed rules on outdoor restaurant seating and the sky did not fall.

The novel coronavirus, ever refracting normalcy, casts an eerie glow on the path ahead.

Some people just will not wear masks. This struck me on the Cross Sound Ferry on my way back from Massachusetts.

One of the greatest compensations for losing sleep on squad night is driving home through empty streets and then walking slowly up to my stoop from the driveway in the still of the night.

What to make of the Amazin’s in this weirdly brief and virus-plagued season?

The coronavirus amplifies many of the inequalities in our society. The wealthy can afford to self-isolate; the vulnerable are more so than ever. This extends to far too many children — the most innocent among us.

As the sun goes down, so, too, do the masks — as well as inhibitions about airing anti-mask sentiments.

It has been a relatively long time since a tropical storm or hurricane hit Long Island straight on.

A poll last week released by the Kaiser Family Foundation found that more than half of adults thought the crisis was affecting their mental health.

I texted a neighbor the other day asking how the mosquitoes were over her way. Lucy, who usually has a decent amount to say, responded with just one word: bad.

The median income among Peloton owners is in the high six figures, if the marketing is to be believed. The purchase of one — and the cost of the monthly fees — is a luxury bordering on the inexcusable in these times of trouble.

It is painfully ironic that that the federal agency created to keep the United States safe after the Sept. 11 attacks now targets Americans.

Cribbage? You never know what will bring two strangers together.

My success at underachieving is undoubtedly my extraordinary ability at staying supine on the couch. During these difficult days, what more valuable skill than the ability to put in long-term couch time.

It’s been weeks since the last sustained soaking.

The Far Right found me a month or so ago, and now not a day goes by that I don’t get half a dozen emails from Newt Gingrich, Donald Trump Jr., or worse.

Southampton Town officials had stars in their eyes when they granted permission for a giant pop concert held in Bridgehampton on Saturday, attended by an estimated 3,000 guests.

I don’t believe there are any secret spots anymore. That was certainly the case on Saturday, when the middle child and I went to a normally empty place along the ocean for a late-afternoon swim.