David Bouchier


David began as a print journalist in London and taught at a British university for almost twenty years. After coming to the United States in 1986 he continued to teach and to publish a regular humor column in The New York Times regional edition.  He joined WSHU as a weekly commentator in 1992, becoming host of Sunday Matinee in 1996. His latest book of essays, Peripheral Vision, was published in 2011. His other books include A Few Well Chosen Words, The Song of Suburbia, The Cats and the Water Bottles, The Accidental Immigrant and Writer at Work. He lives in Stony Brook, New York with his wife who is a professor at Stony Brook University, and two un-musical cats.

Local News

Jun 29, 2015

The daily news gets worse and worse. It is almost painful to hear it or read it, and really painful to see it on television. The problems of the world are huge, and there is virtually nothing that any of us can do about any of them. Many people simply switch off and try to ignore it all, and nobody can blame them for that.

Hands Off

Jun 22, 2015

Last week we spent several hours in the cabin of a brand new state-of-the art Boeing airliner, trying to hear a stream of announcements that were all but inaudible.

When we say "The South we usually mean the group of red states below the Mason-Dixon Line that share a particular history and culture. In Europe "The South" is also a term that carries more than its simple geographical meaning.In the European imagination "The South" is a fantasy land, rather like California, or Florida, or Hawaii in the American imagination, a place where you can escape and enjoy the good life.In the Northeastern United States we get a tantalizing hint of The South every summer when the temperature rises and the pools are opened.

City Of Lights

Jun 8, 2015

Paris was looking good last week, but then it always does. It is full of Parisians, of course, and most them speak French in that annoying way they have. There's also the diabolical traffic, the wall-to-wall tourists and the combative restaurant waiters. Every successive French government launches a campaign to encourage waiters to be nice to their customers. This has been about as successful as the campaign to encourage Congressmen to be nice to their political rivals.

Our family legend (and I stress the word "legend) claims that my father's great-great grandfather fled from France to England in 1804, when Napoleon proclaimed himself Emperor. So we have always had a this slender, romantic connection, and for me France has always been a kind of second home, a place to escape to, at least in my imagination.