Ralph Gardner Jr.

It took three tries and some prompting but I finally got AI to produce the answer I was looking for. I asked it — if AI has preferred pronouns it’s up to artificial intelligence to let me know what they are — whether winter had an equivalent to Indian Summer. What provoked the query were the three days of seventy-degree weather that nature granted us this week.

I’m worse than the average person when it comes to free stuff. If a company is giving away something for nothing you’ll find me nudging others aside to get to the front of the line. I blame it on my dad.

As I write this column I’m in pain. There are various reasons why — some of them undoubtedly age-related. But the most likely cause is the fall I took Wednesday coming off the chair lift at Mad River Glen in Vermont. “Mad River Glen, Ski It If you Can,” goes the bumper sticker. But first you need to successfully disembark from the lift before you can ascertain if you’re capable of meeting the mountain’s challenge.

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.