Mary Novaria

The vitriol that is spread under the cover of social media anonymity is quickly infecting the rest of society. March 7, 2017  by  Mary Novaria   Featured on The Good Men Project Getty Images I’ve heard it said that folks who spew malicious attacks and toxic name-calling on Twitter are hiding behind relative anonymity—that they would never look someone in the eye and repeat face-to-face the same nasty, ugly venom, they type out to the world in 140 characters or less. Whether that theory is true, and I’m not convinced it is, doesn’t matter. Words are currency. Whether delivered via social media, a phone call, email or text, or in the presence of others, the words we choose and way we use them speaks volumes about who we are, both individually and as a society. ◊♦◊ So when I see the headline,  Longtime Trump Adviser Calls Critic a “Stupid Ignorant Ugly B—–, ” it gets my hackles up. Although some of his most profane and poisonous tweets wer...

This piece appeared March 12, 2014 in the Huffington Post. I was almost run over crossing the street the other day. Near misses happen in my busy neighborhood with alarming frequency, but this one came perilously close to flattening me -- closer even than the day a motorcycle drove right up onto the sidewalk. Despite the broad yellow stripes indicating a pedestrian crosswalk and the familiar, red, octagonal sign painted STOP, it was obvious the woman in the Mercedes SUV wasn't going to. When I halted in the middle of the street, she finally glanced my way and hit the brakes. "Oh, I didn't see you," she said, unremorsefully as she rolled down her window. "I was just looking straight ahead." (Didn't we learn in Driver's Ed to look both ways before proceeding into an intersection?) "You didn't even come to a complete stop," I scolded, with upturned palms. And that's when I heard the voice of a jogging stranger. "Aw...

I’ve tripped over dog leashes (not mine), dodged tackles from errant skateboarders, and nearly been clipped in the crosswalk—most recently by a motorcycle. But it’s the abject rudeness of pedestrians that’s got me throwing down the penalty flag. Yes, walking has become a contact sport... I’ve been double-teamed, blocked, and nearly tackled just taking an innocent stroll with my dog, Bella. Thank God she’s on my side, because I can use her to set a pick. Proper sidewalk manners have gone out the window in my neighborhood, where folks seem to find the very notion of keeping to the right abhorrent. It’s such a simple concept. Isn’t it one of the things we learned in kindergarten on our first forays down the corridors of grade school? Keep to the right! But here they walk on the left… they walk in the middle… and they must be willing to be hip checked because they do not zig, zag or make any effort get out of the way. Whether they don’t know any better, or simply don’t ...