Mary Novaria

Some of my friends can’t wait for the holidays. The rest can’t wait for them to be over. It’s no wonder we’re conflicted. We’ve allowed our most traditional, warm and fuzzy holiday to be smothered by an avalanche of consumerism and immediate gratification. Goodbye “over the river and through the woods.” This year, it’s over to Target to get the goods. Meanwhile, Squanto and Norman Rockwell are spinning in their graves and Thanksgiving is forced to stand as a bookend for a season of competitive retailing and manufactured desire. There’s plenty of cluck-clucking and tsk-tsking over stores that dare to be open Thanksgiving, but we have only ourselves to blame. And by “we” I mean this collective society in which we live... the same way that “we” are to blame for Congress: We put up with the insanity. Walmart and Macy’s know they can count on us to worship at their altars, that we will happily whip out our credit cards and partake in their communion of gr...

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 ...