Almost every behavior can be sub-divided into being enacted by two kinds of people. Do I really believe that? Let’s put it this way. I have space on this page to fill every week. That requirement—self-mandated though it is—gets you to thinking about all sorts of unusual things. This is one of them. If I don’t believe my “Two Kinds of People” conceit as resolutely as, say, the unlikelihood of the Yankees winning this year’s World Series, I do believe it enough to indulge myself in this exercise, and ...

New York State’s primary election is the same day that this edition of the paper will be in your hands, and I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. It’s no secret that I am a political junkie but not in the partisan sense; rather, as an informed and engaged citizen. I am genuinely interested in the opinions of each “side” and am happy to have a healthy discussion, regardless of whether my views are popular or not. What does concern me, and is not at all appealing, is the current state of polarized politics. I am ...

Dear Dr. Linda, I am in second grade and have a problem about math. My teacher just keeps giving me homework and it’s driving me crazy. Because she keeps giving it to me on weekends and spring and summer breaks. And it’s only one level and it’s too hard. But the other people who have special needs get to be moved into a higher or lower group and they learn even more because it’s their level. I’m feeling very overwhelmed. Emi Dear Emi, It’s not that often that a second-grader writes to me. Thank ...

Did you watch “Roseanne” last week? The reboot of the popular show from the ‘90s opened to huge ratings. So huge, in fact, it earned the highest ratings of any network program in the last six years. More than 18 million people tuned in to watch both of the first two half-hour episodes. That’s quite an accomplishment for a show that had a terrible final year and then took a 20-year hiatus.  I am just going to put it right out front. The reason for this huge opening is that both the character of Roseanne Connor ...

The day started like any other. I showered, got dressed, walked the dog, and then headed over to the local coffee shop to get a beverage. But as I waited on line to give my order, Satan suddenly stabbed me in the back. Or rather, the boob. I had bent over to retrieve something I dropped on the floor, when one of the underwires suddenly burst out the material like a ninja warrior, spearing me in the chest. “Yow!” I shrieked, grabbing at my breast like a 14-year-old boy getting to first base. “Are you okay?” ...

There’s a chill in the air, a tart briskness that seems like you could shatter it with a hammer. Most people would reach for a pullover, but that chill causes me to break into a sweat. Even after all these years, the first time I feel Jack Frost nipping at my nose, an abject panic sets in and I start trying to think up excuses for why I didn’t do homework that was due 44 years ago. It’s just a physical response, my body trying to prepare me for possible blood loss from the piercing stares of my teachers. September came ...

I go through this every month: “Clean up, company’s coming!”  I run around the house in a panic, picking up all my projects and spend hours just putting away my stuff before I can clean the house or my husband can clean, whose fault it is anyway for inviting people over!  What’s the matter with him?! Every month, my husband invites people over for wine and cheese. I hate it and I love it. It forces me to “pick up the house,” as my mother says, and get things put away.  If my husband ...

It seems to me that we have gone from the warmth of the 20th century to the cold of the 21st. I’m not talking about wars or politics, but books and telephones and newspapers and board games as opposed to texting and emailing and electronic games and the anonymity of the computer itself.   People today speak quickly as if they want to get over it fast; they text in acronyms, shortened words or letters like OTC, RA, LOL. It’s as if we haven’t the time to converse, to interact, to care about each other.

Dear readers: Appearing on September 13, 2012, this column was my very first for The Somers Record. Because it captures the horror and deep personal feelings of this never-to-be-forgotten event, I have rerun it each year since in memory of our fallen heroes, family and friends who perished that day and who are still sacrificing their lives years later from 9/11 related illnesses.     We will never forget:  On that bright, clear September 11, 2001, morning, I was in our office cafeteria getting coffee when the cafeteria ...