Saturday night! Nothing scheduled. A rarity. Let me check the movies! Not one film that looks interesting! How about the plays on the Island? Is Jackie Mason at Tilles Center? I like him but we saw him recently. Nothing else looks appealing. Let’s look at the smaller, less costly shows. A last minute show on a Saturday night, in a local theater, would be ideal. Let’s see now. A mystery thriller in Lindenhurst; an A.C. Gurney in East Hampton, a musical in East Islip, Neil Simon in Freeport, a comedy in Bohemia, Chinese acrobats in Patchogue. Isn’t there anything closer to Jericho?
During the fall migration season, observers stand on a hawk watch platform at Fire Island each day, September through the first week in November, counting and identifying raptors coming through on their annual flight south. Migrating raptors don’t always come through fast and furiously. On three consecutive Thursdays, starting with the last one in August, there were zero, eight and six migrating raptors, respectively. However, on those days, local birds, deer and Mother Nature offered moments of drama, beauty and mystery.
“Oh, my God!”
As I opened the front door, there in the doorway was a short black-robed figure with the face of “The Scream” by Edvard Munch. When the cadaver-like body spoke, it said in a high-pitched juvenile voice, “trick or treat.”
It was Halloween and the neighborhood was flooded with bands of oddly dressed children each carrying a loot bag. As the kids came to the door their parents waited protectively in the street. The costumes of the day included skeletons, Superman, Elvis, Spiderman, Batman, fairy princesses, Cinderellas, weird scary masks, Casper the Ghost, pirates, Big Bird, Elmo, Barney, baseball and football players and other weird and wonderfully imaginative outfits.
Stan, you are 75 years old!
You have lived through five wars, served in the United States Army, have three children and six grandchildren. I would have to say you are a lucky guy!
It hasn’t been a bed of roses and you have lost a lot of family and good friends along the way, but you are still vertical and moving around. Your tennis game leaves a lot to be desired but occasionally you get the ball back over the net.
As a longtime resident and civic leader in the Town of Oyster Bay, I believe we have been fortunate to have a Town Supervisor who has done a superb job over the last 12 years with his determination and resolve in making the Town of Oyster Bay one of the leading towns in NYS to live.
• To make it more of an even playing field for candidates, we will not run columns from incumbents up for election in the three issues prior to an election.
• To be considered for publication, letters should be limited to 300-400 words (one quarter page is roughly 400 words). Letters longer than this may not be used or may be shortened by the editor without contacting the writer.
“Do not – I repeat, do not” open an email from me asking you to be my friend! It is a scam!
You are all my friends, my readers.
I received an email about 10 days ago from a lovely lady in my writing group. She is a kind and wonderful person and she asked me to be her friend. Not wanting to insult her, I followed all the questions until the end. Suddenly, at the end, I saw my entire address book printed out in a long column. I suspected nothing, and then it struck.
Migrating Hawks Ride the Wind
The sun is up a short while, illuminating the dark brown coat of a grazing whitetail deer that turns to look at three humans coming onto Fire Island. Grasses are shimmering in a stiff breeze that will blow all day across this strip of land with a bay on one side and the ocean on the other. I’m with a small group of observers who will be on a platform watching and recording migrating raptors all day.
Stanley Greenberg may be your favorite columnist, but he’s our father and in honor of his 75th birthday we are giving him the week off. Don’t worry, he’ll be back next week with another installment of “Over 60 and Getting Younger.” In the meantime, allow us to introduce you to the Stanley Greenberg you may not know…the Joe Montana of Marshall Lane.
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