THE SADDEST DAY OF THE YEAR

Labor Day is always the saddest day of the year for me.

It usually rains on Labor Day.

But today, in Bridgehampton, the sky is sunny and blue.

Which means our future weather is in the hands of the dopey, weather forecasters on television, who are never right in their predictions.

The road from the Hamptons today is clogged with cars heading west with bikes on their roofs, with some couples who are each silently trying to remember the name of a good divorce lawyer.

I’m convinced that the reason many couples stay married in the summer is that they need their spouse to be able to drive in the HOV lane.

Otherwise, the ride to and from New York City for a single person in a car is interminable.

And so many men and woman who aren't married are ending their summer romances.

Suddenly "Mr. Right" who was so interesting in July is really something of a slug in September.

And that incredibly cute woman who looked so good by the dim light of the new hot restaurant in Montauk in July

 doesn't look as good in the pre-autumn haze.

Let’s talk about the kids. What is wrong with the kids these days? They’re actually happy to be going back to school this year.

I came from another world. A million years ago, when I was a kid, on the day school was over for the summer, we all sang this old favorite:

No more pencils

No more books

No more teacher’s dirty looks.

When I was a kid, on Labor day, every one of us had that "I don't want to go back to school" look on our faces.

The anxiety of that terrible last week of summer never left us.

I've tried everything I could to adjust to the end of this summer. Last week I realized I hadn't done so many things I usually do in summer. I didn't take my annual beach walk. I hadn't gone into the ocean because the water was too cold.

Now I must forget the beach. The lifeguards are gone and the ocean is filled with hungry sharks.

Mention to anyone that this weekend is the end of a summer and they will tell you that they felt like it never started.

May and June sucked, July and August were fast and disappointing.

And here it is September, which is to winter what May is to summer.

I will bet that they’ll look sad, shake their heads in disbelief, and then say, “Yes, but September and October are the best times of the year out here in the Hamptons.”

Bull! September and October are great months in the Hamptons if you’re a potato and you are about to be pulled out of the ground.

I admit September and October are the most beautiful, quiet months in the Hamptons, but the truth is we are just two months away from winter. The days are shorter, the nights chillier. Leaves on trees are turning red then brown then falling and dying.

Give me a great day in April or May with the daffodils springing up out of the ground . . . with trees blooming their pretty heads off and the smell of grass is everywhere. Give me a day when I have Daylight Savings time and a whole summer ahead of me anytime.

I went to a nifty end-of-summer all male party the other night and spent a half hour in a conversation with Bill Clinton.

Conversation is the wrong word. For 30 minutes Clinton talked and I listened.

I must admit that I was wrong about Clinton when he was President.

It turns out Clinton was a good President who balanced the federal budget and reduced the deficit.

But don’t worry, I won’t be changing my opinion of Trump as President.

I just hope this wonderful country of ours can survive him.

I’m particularly sad about how Trump has us in a war with the great country of Canada.

They have always been our friends.

Now Trump has stupidly decided our part of Lake Ontario will now be called Lake America.

How about Canada should rename their part of Lake Ontario…

Lake Epstein.

Wait a minute.

Why am I ending this column with Trump and his crazy shenanigans.

Here is something that will make you smile.

An old man in Miami calls up his son in New York and says, “Listen, your mother and I are getting divorced. Forty-five years of misery is enough.”

“Dad, what are you talking about?” the son screams.

“We can’t stand the sight of each other any longer,” he says. “I’m sick of her face, and I’m sick of talking about this, so call your sister in Chicago and tell her,” and he hangs up.

Now the son is worried. So, he calls his sister. She says, “Like hell they’re getting divorced!” and calls her father immediately. “You’re not getting divorced! Don’t do another thing, the two of us are flying to Miami tomorrow to talk about this. Until then, don’t call a lawyer, don’t file a paper, DO YOU HEAR ME?” and she hangs up.

The old man turns to his wife smiles, hugs her and says, “It worked. They’re coming for Rosh Hashanah and paying their own airfares.

Happy Autumn and Winter.

Spring 2027 is only 194 days away.