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How to Bet on a Team in CS GO

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In order to succeed in CS GO betting on teams you need to research not only the statistics of these teams’ games, but also the subtleties of the whole game. Gamers who thoroughly know all the nuances of CS GO have much greater chances to win. However, following the CS GO betting advice of experienced players, and novice bettors can successfully CS GO bet on teams with the help of several betting principles.

Principle 1.A team cannot play great on all maps. Every team has its own strong and weak maps.

If team A plays poorly on one map, but accidentally won the first few rounds, then it is not a fact that team B loses the map completely. To win on the map, you must win at least 16 rounds. When you CS GO bet on teams, you partly bet on CS GO matches. A huge influence in CS GO is provided by the economy inside the game. For each frag (destruction of the enemy), a round and a bomb set to players, money is charged. With these funds, participants can buy their own weapons, grenades and armor. When one of the teams loses on points but wins on money, it makes sense to think and not make hasty conclusions about the winner of the match while making CS GO bets.

Principle 2.Analyze statistical data.

In CSGO betting you should focus on the latest indicators, especially on the ratio of team’s won and lost matches. Notice, which maps are being played the most often. Always consider what is the professional level of the teams, which “your team” has played with. For example, a team may win a tournament without any strong teams, and then go to a global competition and not show a decent game. You should use this principle not only when you bet on CS GO but at any game betting.

Principle 3.Evaluate the details.

When you bet on Counter Strike GO, you bet on each player and teamwork. It is necessary to evaluate:

  • Individual players, their individual skills and achievements;
  • Teamwork of the whole team, its tactics;
  • When the professional of esports bets CS GO – usually evaluates even the psychological moments (for example, a reaction to a loss in a separate round);
  • Format of the tournament: amount of rounds and rules how the final victory is determined.

Principle 4.Pay attention to everything while CS GO betting.

In Counter Strike, match-fixing matches and other dishonest ways of making a profit appear, so inflated odds should alert you. It is better to miss this game since its results may not be predictable.

Principle 5.Evaluate the risks when you plan to Counter Strike GO bet.

Nowadays Counter Strike has divorced many tournaments, and dishonest hackers are organizing the weighty part of them. With the help of fraudulent manipulations, they bring the result to their advantage. Therefore, the reliability of the competition is the first thing you need to pay attention while CSGO betting.

Many bettors prefer to bet on CS for their favorites, which invariably leads to the loss of an impressive part of the original bank. The fact is that there are often unpredictable results of the game. When you bet on CS GO matches the team with fewer chances might win the competition and surprise everyone. Even if most part of CS GO bets on the strong teams are winning, it is incredibly difficult to win back with the help of small odds.

Use our CS GO betting advice for CS GO team betting and win!

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You Built It. So How Can They Throw You Out? The Brutal Reality of Founding a Nonprofit

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Last night, I was privileged to read an email from Linda Amiel Burns describing what I now call a coup at the American Popular Song Society, an organization she led for 42 years. I read it and wondered if what she described could possibly have happened the way she said it had.

Today, quite unexpectedly, a publicist sent me a press release announcing APSS’s new leadership. Suddenly, the email I had read the night before became considerably more interesting.

There is something almost incomprehensible about being forced out of something you created. You have the idea. You give it a name. You find the people, build the audience, raise the money, create the programs and spend years—sometimes decades—turning an idea that existed only in your head into an institution other people value. Then one day, the institution tells you it no longer needs you. It sounds impossible….. right? Legally, it isn’t.

The press release I received today stated that APSS’s new leadership followed the “retirement” of the organization’s former president and treasurer. There is considerably more contained in that seemingly innocuous word than the announcement suggests.

Linda Amiel Burns spent 42 years as president of APSS, helping shape an organization devoted to preserving and celebrating the American Songbook. Glen Charlow served for years as its treasurer and worked alongside her in producing its programs. As recently as June, Burns was still publicly identified as president of APSS and Charlow as treasurer when they co-produced the organization’s Sidney Myer Lifetime Achievement Award gala at The Cutting Room. Michael Lavine, now announced as APSS’s new president, served as musical director for that evening. Even more strikingly, the American Popular Song Society Series was recognized at the 2026 MAC Awards as having been “created, produced, and hosted by Linda Amiel Burns.” This isn’t ancient history. It happened this year.

According to the account I read from Burns, she did not voluntarily retire. She described being forced out and said a board meeting and vote took place without either her or Charlow present. Burns alleges that this was no ordinary board transition. She says she was given incorrect information about the location of the meeting and was consequently absent when the vote affecting her leadership took place. Burns’ account goes considerably further than saying she disagreed with a board decision. According to the communication I read, Burns says the meeting at which the leadership change was decided took place at Michael Lavine’s apartment and that she was never informed that the meeting was being held there. She therefore was not present for the meeting that resulted in the organization she had led for 42 years moving forward without her.

Those are serious assertions. The precise circumstances of that meeting—including who called it, who attended, what notice was given, what was voted upon and what the organization’s bylaws require—needs to be established before conclusions can responsibly be drawn about whether proper procedures were followed.

That leadership change is no longer theoretical. The announcement I received names Michael Lavine as president, Tom Toce as vice president, Lisa Mathias as treasurer and Marilyn Lester as secretary.

That raises a question far bigger than one organization: How can someone spend decades building something and then be removed from it without being present?

The answer lies in a distinction most people probably never think about until it happens to them. Founding an organization and owning an organization are not necessarily the same thing. A nonprofit corporation does not belong to its founder in the way a privately owned company can belong to the person who created it. Once an organization is incorporated, authority is governed by its certificate of incorporation, bylaws, board structure and applicable state law. In New York, that law can be startling.

Under Section 714 of New York’s Not-for-Profit Corporation Law, an officer elected or appointed by a board may be removed by that board with or without cause. If an officer was elected by the organization’s members, removal generally rests with those members. Read that again. With or without cause.

Being the visionary doesn’t necessarily protect you. Neither does being the person who spent decades building the organization. The title “founder” carries enormous historical and emotional significance, but the actual legal authority a founder retains depends upon how the organization was structured and what protections were written into its governing documents.

The distinction between being removed as an officer and being removed as a director also matters. New York law treats those positions differently. Removal of directors is governed by another section of the Not-for-Profit Corporation Law and can depend upon who elected the director, whether removal is for cause and what the corporation’s certificate and bylaws provide. In other words, the bylaws you barely thought about when everyone was enthusiastic, cooperative and committed to the same dream can become extraordinarily important years later when those same people no longer agree. There is a bitter irony in that.

Most founders don’t begin by imagining that the people they invite onto a board will someday vote against them. They are thinking about the mission. They need help. They need expertise, credibility, fundraising, administration and people willing to shoulder some of the responsibility. So they build a board, and with that board they distribute power.

That is not inherently wrong. In fact, independent governance is one of the fundamental principles of the nonprofit structure. Directors and officers have fiduciary responsibilities to the organization itself. New York law requires directors and officers to perform their duties in good faith and with the degree of care an ordinarily prudent person in a similar position would exercise.

There are good reasons for those safeguards. A nonprofit cannot simply become the personal kingdom of its founder. Boards need the ability to intervene when leadership fails, when finances are mishandled, when a mission is abandoned or when an organization genuinely needs to evolve. But there is another side to that protection. The very governance structure designed to prevent a founder from controlling an organization indefinitely can also make it possible for a board to remove the person who created and nurtured it.

That doesn’t automatically mean such a removal is improper. It also doesn’t mean it is fair. Legal and fair are not synonyms.

That is why the circumstances surrounding Burns’ departure from the American Popular Song Society deserve more than the single word “retirement.” If someone voluntarily decides after 42 years that it is time to leave, that is retirement. If someone is removed against her wishes, that is something else.

What exactly occurred within APSS—including what procedures were followed, what its bylaws require, what votes were taken and why its leadership changed—requires documentation and responses from those involved before conclusions can responsibly be drawn. But Burns’ and Charlow’s experience illuminates something every person creating a nonprofit should understand long before there is a disagreement.

Your passion is not a governing document. Neither is your commitment. Neither is your hard work. Neither are your sacrifices, the years you gave it, or the uncomfortable truth that the organization might never have existed without you, especially during COVID.

If preserving some continuing role in an organization matters to a founder, that issue has to be considered when the corporation is structured and its bylaws are written—not decades later when relationships have deteriorated and everybody suddenly discovers exactly what those documents say.

There is also a larger human question that statutes cannot answer. At what point does an organization become separate from the person who gave birth to it? Every successful founder eventually has to allow other people to participate in what he or she created. Otherwise, there can be no succession, no growth and ultimately no institution capable of surviving its creator. But there is an enormous distance between passing the torch and having it taken from your hand.

The press release I received was intended as an announcement of a new season and new leadership. After reading Burns’ account the night before, I read it very differently.

The announcement names Michael Lavine as president; Tom Toce as vice president; Lisa Mathias as treasurer; Marilyn Lester as secretary; and Will Anderson, Ken Bloom, Bill Boggs, George Calderaro, Will Friedwald, Sandy Marrone, Beth Naji, Andrew Poretz, Judy Stewart and Mark William as board members.

Several of those names are not newcomers to APSS. Historical materials from the organization list a number of them in leadership or board positions during Burns’ presidency and Charlow’s tenure as treasurer.

I know some of these people personally. That makes what has happened more difficult for me to understand, not easier.

I am not prepared to accuse every person named on a newly constituted board of participating in the circumstances Burns describes. I do, however, want to know who attended the meeting, who voted, what they voted upon, what notice Burns and Charlow received, what the bylaws required and why an involuntary departure—if Burns’ account is borne out by the documents—is being publicly described as a “retirement.”

Those aren’t accusations. They are questions that deserve answers.

After 42 years of leadership, Linda Amiel Burns deserves something more substantial than having her history reduced to a word in a press release.

The American Popular Song Society is entering what its new leadership calls “New Directions.”

Before an institution decides where it is going, it should be honest about how it left behind the people who brought it this far. I would really like to know how Linda Amiel Burns, who spent 42 years helping keep this organization alive, could apparently be absent from the room in which the organization decided to continue without her.

And there is one question I want answered most of all: How does a press release describe her departure as a “retirement” when Burns herself says she did not retire?

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Events

NBC Turns 100—and Hands the Future to a New Generation at The Paley Museum

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One hundred years is a rather spectacular birthday, but NBC isn’t celebrating its centennial by simply looking backward. The Paley Museum and NBC kicked off the new exhibition NBC100: A Century Together with NBC100 Presents: TV’s Next Generation, an evening that cleverly paired a century of television history with some of the young actors being entrusted with what comes next.

Mekki Leeper,Courtesy of The Paley Museum

NBC News’ Joe Fryer moderated the conversation with Mekki Leeper of St. Denis Medical, Mary Shalaby of Sunset P.I., Taylor Bloom of Line of Fire, Brandon Larracuente of Chicago Fire and Precious Way of The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins. Following the red carpet, the five actors talked about finding their way to NBC, life behind the scenes and the rather extraordinary experience of becoming part of a network whose history stretches back to the earliest days of broadcasting.

Taylor Bloom Courtesy of The Paley Museum

There was also a little ambush involved—in the nicest possible way. Each actor received a surprise message from a fellow cast member: Wendi McLendon-Covey for Leeper, Jane Levy and Jake Johnson for Shalaby, Peter Krause and Hope Davis for Bloom, Taylor Kinney for Larracuente and Erika Alexander for Way. It was a lovely way of making the evening less about corporate legacy and more about the people who actually create television. These actors know the history they are inheriting.

Mary Shalaby Courtesy of The Paley Museum

Way, whose career began with a role on Days of Our Lives, confessed to falling down the 30 Rock rabbit hole. “I started binging it,” she said. “So many different personalities, so much going on. Everyone is off the chain.”

Joe Fryer, Courtesy of The Paley Museum

Bloom’s NBC education apparently never ends. “To this day, I’ve watched Friends pretty much every day,” he admitted.

Taylor Bloom, Mary Shalaby, Joe Fryer, Courtesy of The Paley Museum

For Larracuente, joining Chicago Fire meant stepping into something already moving at full speed. He compared becoming part of the long-running One Chicago universe to “jumping onto a moving train.” Yet it was the camaraderie behind the scenes that made the longevity of the franchise understandable. “Seeing that 15 years later, it’s not a surprise why it’s still on.”

Precious Way Courtesy of The Paley Museum

Leeper offered another increasingly rare reason to appreciate network television: time. With St. Denis Medical, he has the luxury of working on a series with a substantial episodic order, something that gives actors and characters room to develop. “It does feel really lucky to get to do something on a show that has a long season order,” he said.

That may be one of the more interesting ideas to emerge from an evening ostensibly celebrating the future. Television has changed almost beyond recognition, but there remains something valuable about letting a show breathe, allowing an ensemble to find its rhythms and giving an audience enough time to fall in love with characters rather than meeting and losing them in eight episodes.

When Fryer asked what everyone hoped would come next, Shalaby gave perhaps the evening’s most refreshingly uncomplicated answer. “I feel like I’m so fresh into this. This is what I was hoping for, and I got it. I just feel so grateful. I just hope I get to keep doing TV.”

Larracuente was equally grounded. “I try to be as much of a sponge as I can. I believe no matter how far you get into your career, you can always learn. I just try to soak it in.”

That sense of looking forward while understanding what came before is also the point of NBC100: A Century Together.

Presented by The Paley Museum in collaboration with NBC, the exhibition takes over three floors and travels through a century that began with radio and eventually produced some of the most recognizable images, characters and catchphrases in American popular culture.

More than 75 costumes and artifacts represent Friends, Seinfeld, The Office, Saturday Night Live, Law & Order, The Tonight Show, The West Wing, ER, NBC News, NBC Sports and many more. It is less a conventional television exhibit than a walk through America’s collective memory. Even people who don’t consider themselves television obsessives are likely to discover that NBC has been quietly occupying part of their lives for decades.

That is what made TV’s Next Generation such a smart way to begin the celebration.

A centennial can easily become a museum piece—a parade of everything that used to matter. NBC and The Paley Museum instead put the past in the building and the future on the stage.

After 100 years, the peacock isn’t retiring. It’s simply handing a few feathers to the next generation.

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Entertainment

Prince Mario-Max Schaumburg-Lippe Celebrates Climate Week Imperial Tea Ceremony!

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H.H. Dr. Prince Mario-Max Schaumburg-Lippe joins an intimate Climate Week New York City tea ceremony shaped by Kyle Mathews, bringing together reflection, wellness, education, and care for future generations.

During Climate Week in New York City, the most memorable gatherings are often the quietest. In a city known for high-level panels, institutional receptions, and ambitious public commitments, a tea ceremony offers another kind of civic language. It is slower, more personal, and centered on attention. For H.H. Dr. Prince Mario-Max Schaumburg-Lippe, the occasion becomes a refined celebration of culture, care, and human connection, made possible thanks to Kyle Mathews and a circle of hosts, curators, and partners devoted to meaningful encounter.

The event, titled Tea Ceremony, is presented as a private invitation-only gathering dedicated to quiet encounters that allow guests to connect and reflect. Its purpose is stated with clarity, in service of education, mental health, and health care for the generations coming after us. That framing gives the ceremony its emotional structure. It is not arranged as a performance of luxury, but as a cultivated experience in which hospitality becomes a way to honor shared responsibility.

The ceremony takes place within the rhythm of Climate Week, New York City, a setting that naturally brings together questions of legacy, stewardship, and community. Against that broader backdrop, the tea ceremony creates a smaller and more intimate room for attention. Guests are invited to arrive with presence, to settle into the moment, and to consider how cultural traditions can support contemporary conversations around well-being and future care.

H.H. Dr. Prince Mario-Max Schaumburg-Lippe’s celebration of the occasion reflects the elegance of an event designed around stillness rather than spectacle. His presence gives the gathering a ceremonial dimension, while the spirit of the program remains warm, human, and accessible. The language of the invitation points toward intention. Every detail is part of a sequence meant to move guests from arrival to reflection, from ritual to conversation.

Kyle Mathews stands at the center of the hospitality surrounding the event, named among the hosts alongside Vin Infante and Genia Xasis. Together, they help shape an atmosphere defined by grace, intimacy, and purpose. Their role is not simply organizational. It is social and cultural, creating the conditions for people from different worlds to gather around a shared table and a shared concern for the generations ahead.

A Ceremony of Stillness in New York

The program begins with a sound bath to arrive and settle. This opening gesture is significant. Before tea is poured, before conversation expands, guests are invited to pause. In a city where events often begin with introductions and momentum, this ceremony begins with quiet. The sound bath serves as a transition from the speed of the outside world into a more composed state of attention.

From there, the gathering moves into the Japanese Way of Tea, with hand-whisked Kyoto matcha and wagashi. The pairing reflects both discipline and hospitality. Matcha carries with it a long cultural history of preparation, focus, and respect. Wagashi, traditionally served with tea, introduces delicacy and balance. Together, they create a sensory experience that is precise, graceful, and deeply rooted in the value of care.

The inclusion of ikebana adds another layer to the ceremony. Japanese floral arranging is often understood through composition, restraint, and respect for natural form. Within this gathering, ikebana supports the larger theme of reflection. It offers a visual language for balance, attention, and the beauty of purposeful arrangement. In the context of Climate Week, it also quietly reinforces a relationship with nature that is thoughtful rather than decorative.

A closing sound bath completes the ceremonial arc before the gathering opens into conversation. This structure gives the event a clear emotional rhythm. Guests are welcomed into stillness, guided through tea and aesthetic contemplation, returned again to quiet, and then invited into dialogue. The design recognizes that meaningful conversation often requires preparation. It asks participants to listen inwardly before speaking outwardly.

The tea ceremony is curated by Shirley Choo, whose role gives the gathering its cultural and experiential refinement. A ceremony of this kind depends on sensitivity to detail, pacing, and tone. The invitation presents the experience as intimate and curated, which suggests a careful approach to guest experience. Every element has been chosen to support reflection rather than distraction.

The event unfolds across two dates, each with its own setting in New York. On Wednesday, 23 September, guests are invited from 10:00 to 12:00 at The Penthouse at Baccarat Hotel, New York. The venue aligns with the ceremony’s refined character, offering an elegant environment for a gathering that is both private and purposeful.

On Thursday, 24 September, the ceremony continues from 10:00 to 12:00 at the Alumni Ventures Conference Room. This second setting gives the program another dimension, connecting the intimacy of ritual with a space associated with enterprise, networks, and forward-looking conversation. The movement between venues reflects the event’s larger ambition, to bring contemplative practice into rooms where ideas, relationships, and social commitments can take shape.

The hosts, Kyle Mathews, Vin Infante, and Genia Xasis, bring together an invitation-only group. The phrase intimate curated group gives the event its social identity. It is not a broad public reception. It is a carefully gathered room, shaped around trust, shared interest, and the possibility of open conversation. That kind of setting is especially suited to subjects such as mental health, health care, education, and intergenerational responsibility.

For H.H. Dr. Prince Mario-Max Schaumburg-Lippe, the ceremony offers a meaningful occasion to honor hospitality and cultural exchange. His celebration of the gathering thanks Kyle Mathews directly, recognizing the importance of the people who make such rooms possible. In refined social culture, the host’s work is often the invisible architecture of the experience. Here, Kyle Mathews is acknowledged as a central figure in creating a moment of connection during one of New York’s most globally minded weeks.

The Broader Meaning of Tea

Tea has long carried a social role beyond refreshment. In ceremonial settings, it becomes a framework for attention, respect, and shared presence. The act of preparing matcha by hand requires focus. The act of receiving it invites awareness. Within the Climate Week context, this ritual becomes a gentle but powerful reminder that care for the future begins in habits of attention.

The phrase for the generations coming after us gives the event its moral center. It widens the ceremony beyond the guests in the room. Education, mental health, and health care are named as areas of service, and each touches the future in a different way. Education shapes capacity. Mental health supports resilience. Health care sustains dignity and access. Together, they create a portrait of social care that is practical, human, and lasting.

The ceremony’s elegance lies in its restraint. The invitation uses a calm palette, refined typography, and a formal composition that mirrors the spirit of the gathering. It does not overwhelm the eye. It gives information with poise. The visual design reflects the same values as the program itself, balance, clarity, and quiet intention.

The participating entities further define the gathering’s identity. TRIIBE, Omega Lifestyle, and Berkana appear as supporting names, each contributing to the overall presence of the event. Their inclusion suggests a collaborative platform in which lifestyle, community, and values-based programming intersect. The ceremony becomes a meeting point for organizations and individuals aligned around thoughtful experience and purposeful connection.

The Baccarat Hotel setting for the first gathering adds a polished New York dimension. Known for its association with high design and refined hospitality, the hotel provides an environment suited to an experience centered on elegance and discretion. Within The Penthouse, the ceremony gains a private and elevated frame, allowing guests to step away from the public tempo of Climate Week and enter a more contemplative atmosphere.

The Alumni Ventures Conference Room setting for the second gathering gives the program a different but complementary quality. A conference room suggests exchange, planning, and future-oriented thinking. Placing a tea ceremony in such a space brings calm into an environment often associated with strategy and momentum. That contrast strengthens the event’s purpose, showing that reflection has a place inside leadership, enterprise, and civic imagination.

H.H. Dr. Prince Mario-Max Schaumburg-Lippe’s association with the gathering adds a ceremonial presence that fits naturally with the program’s tone. The event itself remains centered on service and reflection, while his celebration helps draw attention to the cultural and philanthropic values at its heart. In a private gathering built around care for future generations, recognition from a public figure gives the moment additional visibility and grace.

Kyle Mathews’ role deserves particular emphasis because the user’s message identifies him with gratitude. In the culture of intimate events, thanks often carries more meaning than formal acknowledgment. It recognizes taste, effort, coordination, and personal generosity. A ceremony like this depends on trust between host, curator, venue, and guests. Kyle Mathews’ contribution sits within that web of preparation and welcome.

Vin Infante and Genia Xasis, named alongside Kyle Mathews as hosts, also form part of the ceremony’s social foundation. Their involvement helps signal that the event is shaped by a shared commitment rather than a single perspective. Hosting in this context means convening with intention, giving guests a reason to gather, and holding space for conversation that can continue after the formal program concludes.

Shirley Choo’s curatorial role is equally central. Tea ceremony, sound bath, Kyoto matcha, wagashi, and ikebana require careful sequencing. Each element must feel integrated rather than assembled. The invitation’s wording suggests a thoughtful flow, beginning with arrival, moving through tea and aesthetic practice, and closing in a way that prepares the room for dialogue. That kind of experiential design is subtle, and its success depends on sensitivity to pace and feeling.

A Refined Gathering for Future Care

The ceremony’s dedication to mental health gives the gathering contemporary relevance. Wellness can sometimes be treated as a fashionable category, but here it is presented with seriousness and softness. The sound bath is not described as entertainment. It is a way to arrive and settle. That distinction matters. The program gives guests permission to slow down before engaging with subjects that require empathy.

Health care, named alongside mental health, broadens the event’s scope. It brings the conversation into the realm of access, support, and long-term human need. When placed in the same sentence as education, health care becomes part of a larger picture of social infrastructure. The ceremony does not need to make grand claims to feel meaningful. Its purpose is contained in the simple idea of service.

Education completes the triad. In a gathering dedicated to future generations, education is both practical and symbolic. It represents preparation, opportunity, and continuity. By placing education in conversation with mental health and health care, the event acknowledges that the next generation’s future depends on more than knowledge alone. It also depends on emotional well-being and systems of care.

Climate Week provides a fitting context because environmental conversation increasingly includes questions of human resilience, public health, youth futures, and social responsibility. This tea ceremony approaches those themes indirectly, through cultural practice and interpersonal attention. It does not compete with policy forums or public summits. It complements them by offering a smaller setting where guests can reconnect with the human meaning of long-term responsibility.

The phrase quiet encounters to connect and reflect captures the event’s core. It suggests that connection does not always need volume, and reflection does not need isolation. A tea ceremony allows both to happen in company. Guests share a room, a rhythm, and a ritual, while also having space for individual thought.

In luxury culture, the most sophisticated experiences increasingly emphasize meaning, wellness, and purpose. This gathering reflects that evolution. The markers of refinement are present, including an elegant invitation, distinguished venues, curated participation, and carefully chosen cultural elements. Yet the true luxury is time. Two morning hours are set aside for stillness, ceremony, and conversation.

For H.H. Dr. Prince Mario-Max Schaumburg-Lippe, celebrating the ceremony thanks to Kyle Mathews places the focus exactly where it belongs, on gratitude and the human work behind the gathering. In a highly scheduled city during a high-profile week, creating a room of calm requires commitment. It requires people willing to slow the pace and shape an experience around care.

The invitation-only nature of the event reinforces the intimacy of the program. Rather than aiming for scale, it aims for depth. The guest list becomes part of the design, allowing the gathering to remain focused, personal, and attentive. In such a setting, conversation can be more candid, presence can be more complete, and ritual can have room to breathe.

TRIIBE, Omega Lifestyle, and Berkana contribute to the event’s identity as a collaborative cultural moment. Their names appear at the base of the invitation, visually grounding the program and signaling partnership. In the language of modern luxury and purpose-driven convening, such partnerships help create experiences that are at once social, aesthetic, and values-led.

The ceremony’s timing, from 10:00 to 12:00 on both days, gives the gathering a morning clarity. It is positioned before the full demands of the day take over, allowing guests to enter the program with attention. A morning tea ceremony carries a sense of preparation, setting a tone for the hours that follow.

The design of the invitation itself deserves attention because it communicates the event’s mood before any guest arrives. The large title, Tea Ceremony, is centered and calm. The supporting lines are precise. The palette is muted and refined. The overall composition creates a sense of order, allowing the eye to move naturally from purpose to program to dates to hosts and partners.

There is a quiet confidence in presenting a Climate Week gathering through tea, flowers, sound, and conversation. It suggests that cultural rituals have a place in contemporary civic life. It also suggests that reflection is not separate from action. It can be the condition that makes action more thoughtful.

As H.H. Dr. Prince Mario-Max Schaumburg-Lippe celebrates the occasion, the ceremony stands as a gracious example of how private gatherings can support public values. Through the work of Kyle Mathews, Vin Infante, Genia Xasis, Shirley Choo, TRIIBE, Omega Lifestyle, and Berkana, the event brings together beauty and responsibility in a format that is intimate, polished, and deeply considered.

The result is a Climate Week moment shaped by care rather than spectacle. It honors education, mental health, and health care while inviting guests to connect through a tradition rooted in attention. It recognizes future generations as the true beneficiaries of present-day thoughtfulness. It gives New York a quieter kind of gathering, one in which ceremony becomes a language of respect, hospitality, and hope.

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Off Broadway

Crazy Mama: Linda Purl Gives a Performance That Should Not Be Missed

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By Ken Fallin

There are performances that impress you, and then there are performances in which you can actually see an actor transform thought into flesh. Linda Purl’s extraordinary work in Sharon Scott Williams’ Crazy Mama: A True Story of Love and Madness, now receiving its Off-Broadway premiere at 59E59 Theaters, thanks to the Rubicon Theatre Company, belongs firmly in the latter category.

Linda Purl photo by Carol Rosegg

Linda Purl photo by Carol Rosegg

Purl plays 16 characters over the course of Williams’ deeply personal story, but calling what she does a display of versatility almost diminishes it. There are no cheap tricks here, no parade of funny voices announcing that another character has arrived. Purl creates through-lines. A transformation begins in her eyes, travels into her face and then seems to spiral through her entire body, stretching almost like taffy until another human being stands before us. The movement is continuous, organic and astonishingly precise. She is beyond brilliant.

Linda Purl photo by Carol Rosegg

Linda Purl photo by Carol Rosegg

Crazy Mama began as Williams’ own story, inspired by her award-winning memoirs about growing up with a mother suffering from severe mental illness. The play begins with eight-year-old Sharon racing home from school, determined to beat her teenage brother Spikey to the final slice of her birthday cake. Instead, she enters the kitchen and finds her mother holding a knife. Soon the sheriff arrives, Mama is taken away, and a child begins a decades-long attempt to understand—and somehow save—the woman she loves.

Linda Purl photo by Carol Rosegg

What follows could easily have become unbearable. Instead, Williams writes with a Southern lyricism that occasionally reminded me of Tennessee Williams—not because she imitates him, but because she understands how language can expand beyond ordinary speech when ordinary words are no longer large enough. Humor and horror live surprisingly close together. A phrase can be funny until suddenly it isn’t. Beauty can emerge from circumstances in which beauty has no apparent business existing.

Will Huse, Linda Purl photo by Carol Rosegg

The historical treatment of Mama’s illness makes the story particularly painful. Psychiatric care during much of the period depicted could be brutal: institutionalization, isolation and electroconvulsive therapy existed within a mental-health system very different from the one we know today. The production itself describes Mama as repeatedly committed to institutions while Sharon remains convinced that somehow, someday, she can bring her mother home.

Linda Purl photo by Carol Rosegg

Linda Purl, Anson Williams

Crazy Mama is ultimately less interested in diagnosing Mama than in asking what happens to the child who loves her. That is where the play becomes devastating. Children don’t stop loving a parent because that parent is ill. They don’t understand diagnostic terminology or treatment protocols. They understand that Mommy was here and now Mommy is gone. They understand promises, disappearances, fear and the desperate conviction that if they can only do the right thing, somehow everything can become normal again. Sharon carries that hope into adulthood.

Will Huse photo by Carol Rosegg

Will Huse, Sharon Scott Williams, Anson Williams, Patrick Duffy, Linda Purl, Ron Howard and Cheryl Howard

The remarkable thing about Williams’ story is where she eventually takes it. She could have written an indictment. She could have remained inside the anger of a childhood shaped by circumstances no child should have been expected to understand. Instead, Crazy Mama moves toward something considerably harder: redemption. Not denial. Not pretending the damage didn’t happen. Forgiveness.

Sharon Scott Williams, Anson Williams, Linda Purl,, Will Huse Photo by Carol Rosegg

Will Huse, Sharon Scott Williams, Anson Williams, Patrick Duffy, Linda Purl, Ron Howard and Cheryl Howard

By the time Mama finally dies, death becomes less an ending than a release from a mind that had imprisoned her for much of her life. Sharon, too, is released—not because the past disappears, but because she refuses to allow it to consume everything that comes afterward.

Will Huse, Sharon Scott Williams, Anson Williams, Linda Purl, Ron Howard and Cheryl Howard

That distinction gives the play enormous relevance at a moment when mental health dominates so much of our cultural conversation. The recent death of 27-year-old Presley Gerber has once again reminded us that money, beauty, access and an apparently privileged life tell us very little about what may be happening inside another human being. We still have enormous difficulty knowing what to do with suffering we cannot see.

Sharon Scott Williams, Anson Williams

Williams doesn’t offer an easy answer. She offers something better: the experience of what mental illness can do not only to the person experiencing it, but to everybody who loves that person.

Anson Williams, Ron Howard

Anson Williams directs with tremendous sensitivity. Best known to many as Potsie from Happy Days, Williams has spent decades directing television, and here he understands when to shape the evening and, more importantly, when to get out of Purl’s way. The production never turns Mama into a spectacle. Nor does it sentimentalize Sharon’s suffering.

Tim Abou-Nasr , Paige Carlyle Howard

Will Huse, as The Blues Man, provides another essential presence. His guitar and vocals become part of the emotional landscape rather than musical decoration, allowing the story to breathe between some of its most difficult passages. Williams also wrote the lyrics heard in the production, giving the music the same deeply personal DNA as the play itself.

Richard Thomas and Georgiana Bischoff

The technical elements remain deliberately spare. Brian Gale’s lighting and projections and Lindsay Jones’ sound design create the world around Purl without competing with her. That restraint is exactly right. When an actress can populate a stage with 16 people using little more than her body, voice and imagination, she doesn’t need scenery doing the work for her.

Sharon, Ken Fallin, Patrick Duffy and Stanley

Opening night also became something of a reunion of television and theatre royalty, with Patrick Duffy, Richard Thomas, Michele Lee and Ron Howard among those celebrating the company. Afterward, the evening continued at producer Jeffrey Grove’s apartment, where cast, creatives and guests gathered to toast a production that had clearly landed with considerable emotional force.

The reason to see Crazy Mama isn’t the opening-night glamour. It’s Linda Purl.

At two hours and five minutes including intermission, this is a substantial evening, yet Purl holds it with extraordinary command. Sixteen characters emerge from one actress, and never once does the performance feel like an acting exercise. Every transformation exists because Sharon remembers these people, because they mattered, and because each left something behind.

In lesser hands, Crazy Mama could have become either relentlessly bleak or insistently inspirational. Williams and Purl refuse both traps. Mental illness caused enormous damage to this family. Love did not magically cure it. A little girl could not rescue her mother simply by wanting badly enough to do so. But that little girl survived. She grew up. She wrote the story. And instead of handing the pain to the next generation, she transformed it into something filled with compassion, humor, forgiveness and hope.

That may be the greatest act of resilience in Crazy Mama.

And Linda Purl’s performance makes it unforgettable.

Crazy Mama: A True Story of Love and Madness: Produced by Rubicon Theatre Company at 59E59 Theaters through October 18th

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Events

Dun Dun… Dinner Is Served: Law & Order Brings Its Diner Back to New York

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There may be no television sound more instantly recognizable than dun dun. Now, for two days in October, it could also mean lunch.

NBC’s Law & Order “Dun Dun Diner” is returning to New York City on Friday, October 9 and Saturday, October 10, transforming Bill’s Bar & Burger at Rockefeller Center into an immersive celebration of one of television’s most enduring—and most thoroughly New York—franchises.

Running from 11 a.m. until 9 p.m. both days, the pop-up combines themed food, interactive experiences, photo opportunities and exclusive merchandise with something Law & Order has always understood particularly well: New York itself.

This time, some serious New York food royalty is joining the investigation. Ess-a-Bagel, Katz’s Delicatessen, Magnolia Bakery and Serendipity3 are collaborating on a specially curated menu for the event. NBC hasn’t yet revealed every dish, which means the evidence remains tantalizingly incomplete, but the four institutions bring together some of the city’s most recognizable bagels, deli fare and desserts under one very familiar television umbrella.

Fans have two ways to enter the scene. For $30, the Booth Service Dining Experience offers a seated meal inside the Dun Dun Diner, including the guest’s choice of one featured collaborative dish, dessert, Law & Order-branded merchandise and interactive touches inspired by the series. For those more interested in investigating than eating, the free Grab & Go Experience includes merchandise giveaways and a themed photo opportunity. Both experiences require reservations.

Reservations opened September 18 on a first-come, first-served basis, so anyone planning to report for duty should probably move faster than Detective Benson arriving at a crime scene.

The timing couldn’t be better. The Dun Dun Diner opens one day after the new seasons of Law & Order and Law & Order: Special Victims Unit premiere Thursday, October 8 on NBC, with episodes streaming the following day on Peacock. This year’s event also falls during NBC’s centennial celebration, marking 100 years of the network’s television history.

The pop-up itself has become something of a tradition. Last year’s Dun Dun Diner also descended upon Rockefeller Center, complete with memorabilia, themed experiences and plenty of opportunities for fans to insert themselves into the Law & Order universe. For 2026, the diner moves into Bill’s Bar & Burger and expands the culinary component with its lineup of distinctly New York collaborators.

Because two days hardly seems sufficient to interrogate a pastrami sandwich, select dishes from the collaborations will continue at participating partner restaurants on October 12 and 13. Which dishes and locations will participate have yet to be announced.

There is something wonderfully appropriate about Law & Order turning itself into a New York diner. For decades, the city hasn’t merely served as the backdrop for the franchise; it has been one of its principal characters. Courthouses, precincts, sidewalks, brownstones, restaurants and recognizable corners of Manhattan have given the shows a sense of place that no soundstage could quite duplicate.

Now New Yorkers get to step inside that world—with considerably less danger and considerably more cheesecake.

The Law & Order Dun Dun Diner takes over Bill’s Bar & Burger at 16 West 51st Street on October 9 and 10 from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.

Reservations are available through the Dun Dun Diner reservation page.

In the culinary justice system, the people are represented by two separate but equally important groups: those who secure reservations—and those who wish they had.

Dun dun.

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