It’s time for the annual report on how English — the language of Shakespeare, Emerson, Joyce and professor Irwin Corey — fared in 2017.
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Tag: Columns
Like so many other sports fans across Long Island, the launch of WFAN on July 1, 1987, was a life-changing event. READ
Earlier this month, Vineyard 48 temporarily lost its winery license, forcing the Route 48 operation to close its dance club — I mean tasting room. READ
A colleague of mine at this newspaper used to refer to the North Fork’s easternmost hamlet as The People’s Republic of Orient. The implication was that residents of Orient considered themselves and their hamlet separate and apart from the rest of Southold Town — a humorous suggestion that was, at the very least, partially reality-based. READ
I’ve always looked forward to Thanksgiving weekend. In high school, it signaled the start of basketball season. In my early 20s, I’d get together with friends every Black Friday to attend a concert in the city. As a reporter, I’ve covered the Long Island Championships in football nearly every year, which is the pinnacle of high school sports in Suffolk County.
Shortly before my head hit the pillow at 2 a.m. Wednesday, I scanned Facebook to see how my friends were reacting to the news that Donald Trump would likely be the next president of the United States.
I was in the early stages of a fantasy football draft when I first noticed the code red alert at the top of the television screen: It called for all of Suffolk County to be evacuated.
My first reaction was: “This can’t be true.”
I remember the day I became a registered organ donor. I was 23 years old and a few months removed from leaving the State of New York for sunny Southern California. READ
Watching the Stony Brook men’s basketball team fall behind by double digits early in the second half of the America East championship game Saturday, I felt something I haven’t experienced during a college basketball game in quite some time: a gut punch. READ
My mornings start the same way each day.
Thump. Thump. Mama. Dada. Mama. Dada. (Repeat, repeat, repeat …)
This happens sometime between 4:45 and 6:45 a.m., pretty much without fail. READ
