What makes you think I live for these moments?

"A riveting and entertaining read by a master of the mystery genre, Alan Beechey's "This Private Plot" is highly recommended . . ." (Julie Summers, Midwest Book Review)

Wow. Okay, that's gotta be my title from now on. I'm off to get new business cards printed.

Necessary roughness?

Yesterday, the Rye Garnets met the Harrison Huskies for the 84th time in the annual football game that's been described as Westchester county's "premier high school rivalry." (Rye beat Harrison 24-13, thanks for asking.)

The game was played at Rye High School's Nugent stadium, with the visiting Harrison supporters wisely directed to stands on the opposite side of the field from the home team's noisy fans (myself and Tertius included).

Before the kick-off, we have the usual introductions, including the presentation of an award to an outstanding scholar from each team, named in honor of a Rye resident who died on one of the planes that hit the World Trade Center. This is dutifully followed by a few moments of respectful contemplation of 9/11, fresh in all our minds from the anniversary a couple of days earlier. Silence falls.

Well, not quite. A few Harrison kids in the faraway stands didn't seem to get the message, keeping up the pre-game whoops. There's a swift flurry of  "shushes" from their neighbors that don't get an immediate reaction. And then one exasperated male voice, clearly heard across the entire width of the hushed field: "Shut . . . the fuck . . . up!"

From an earlier year, the Garnets celebrate a victory over the Huskies with the traditional jump into the Blind Brook, which runs beside the High School's sports field. (Used without the photographer's permission, but she won't mind.)