Mary Novaria

                                                                                          Mary Novaria photo The postman doesn’t ring twice. He knocks because we have no doorbell. He leaves the package by the door, knocks and scurries back toward his truck. I open the door to the tall narrow brown box leaning against the outside wall. “Thanks, Joseph!” I call, and Joseph, who’s wearing a pith helmet, turns around and I get his customary beaming smile. ‘’It’s an ironing board.” I don’t know why I’m compelled to tell him what’s in the box, but I do anyway. “You know you can just go get that at Walmart?” he teases. “Yeah, but… Amazon,” I say. “Free shipping. So easy.” Joseph laughs and says, “They’re keeping me in my job!” Aha...

KCTV5.com A local news station back in Kansas City featured my friend Mary in a story recently because of a dispute she has with the city over a couple of items on her porch. Turns out her small recycling bin and milk delivery cooler offended the aesthetic sensibilities of the neighbor who ratted her out. Yes, the Missouri-based Shatto Milk Company actually does deliver and some homes still have front porches. My friend has lived in this one for 56 years. The city threatened Mary with fines of $100 a day and even incarceration for the violations. I’d like to think Kansas City wouldn’t put an 80-year-old woman behind bars for petty code violations and I’m quite sure there are more serious and urgent issues facing the city.   But my idea of appropriate law enforcement activity is not necessarily in line with today’s reality. (I’m looking at you, ICE.) I wish my friend well; maybe we can have a chat on her porch sometime when I’m in town. Her plight got me thinki...

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 ...