Ralph Gardner Jr.

I often recall something that my daughters’ level-headed preschool director said to me when I interviewed her for a story about the pressure parents put on New York City toddlers to ace their kindergarten admissions tests.

Fyodor Dostoevsky famously observed that “the degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.” I’d like to broaden that to include its public lavatories.

My understanding was that funeral masses at St. Patrick’s Cathedral on Fifth Avenue were typically reserved for cardinals, mayors and the similarly well-connected.

In the way that some people are interested only in their own children and grandchildren, not children in general, so I’m interested only in my own orchids.

The chances of me winning the Nobel Peace Prize are slim and diminishing by the day. It would be hard to point to anything I’ve done to promote global harmony. I’m not proud of myself. Yet, who knows?

This year’s Christmas tree didn’t survive as long as those in years past. What we’ve discovered is that tying them to the roof of the car and careening for a couple of hours down the Taconic State Parkway — a trauma-inducing ride under any circumstances — isn’t good for the sprig’s psychological or physical health.

It’s not every day that I’ll spend close to forty bucks on a lightbulb. But the LED spotlight I bought at Lowe’s a few years back made extraordinary claims.

A holiday season “evergreen,” a story that you can roll out year after year, at least during these tumultuous times, involves political differences among friends and family members and tips on how to defuse or avoid them.

One of my holiday rituals is to visit Myers of Keswick for stocking stuffers. The Greenwich Village store is filled with British specialty items. No nonsense Frank Cooper’s orange marmalade.

When New York State instituted its single use plastic carryout bag ban in 2020 I was all for it, for both fashion and environmental reasons.