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Posted September 01, 2021in Joe's Neighborhood

The retirement of John Sarcone

This is not going to be an unbiased examination of John Sarcone’s tenure as Polk County Attorney — with an accompanying hard-hitting look at why he prefers Italian sausage sandwiches to beef burgers. Sorry. Nor is this going to be a tell-all about Sarcone’s staff and why some of them

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Posted August 04, 2021in Joe's Neighborhood

The Christmas salad

It’s time for a visit between two women with 192 years lived between them.  “When I was in Indianapolis during World War II, I lived in a large house that only boarded girls. I was 17 years old.”  My 94-year-old mom sits low in the front passenger seat as we

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Posted June 30, 2021in Joe's Neighborhood

Beginnings are never a straight line

Taking a whiz? Really? Everyone has to start somewhere. Perhaps it’s your first car, or it’s your first day after graduation, or it’s your first baby, or it’s your first love, or it’s your first Monday back in the office after a year and a half appearing for work in your

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Posted June 02, 2021in Joe's Neighborhood

The arrival of goldfinches

The end of one time and the beginning of another.  The goldfinches land on the feeder, quickly eat, then dart away. Dine and dash. They don’t hang around with the other birds for small talk and local gossip. But they have been long forecasting the change from winter to summer,

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Posted May 05, 2021in Joe's Neighborhood

Bedtime rituals

The reading of the second book is always the most challenging. I sit next to my 2-year-old son and force my eyes wide while reading that riveting thriller “One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.”  “From there to here, from here to there, funny things are everywhere.”  Ain’t that the

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Posted March 31, 2021in Joe's Neighborhood

Vaccine — do you need another reason?

Seven of my siblings wait in line before me. Judy, Carol, Marla, John, Joyce, Jim and Cathy. I’m at the tail end. One at a time, they go into a small room at our grade school and then out they come with one sleeve rolled up, a mark on their

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Posted March 03, 2021in Joe's Neighborhood

Cross-country skiing in a bean field

Should I take the steep, black diamond run on the mountain to the left, or the longer, curving run on the mountain to the right? Do I want deep snow that sprays at every turn, or a slick track with speed? A chair lift for three, or a moving platform

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Posted February 03, 2021in Joe's Neighborhood

Self-help books and fries

We are late, my friend and I. The doors to the hall at Hoyt Sherman Place are already closed. We can hear the murmur of voices as we rush up the stairs to the entrance. He and I are breathing hard and still sweaty from our noon workout. We pull

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Posted January 06, 2021in Joe's Neighborhood

Old men — part 1

The boxwood stump, buried by leaves, snagged my dragging foot and landed me face-first in the soft ground. Ker-plop. No fanfare. No discussion. And certainly no dissent on the part of my lightning quick reflexes. Just… bang. So here I am in the leaves. Observing the world from a new

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Posted December 02, 2020in Joe's Neighborhood

‘This is going to hurt’

“Joe, this is going to hurt.” No kidding. I lie on my back trying to visualize a white sand beach with crystal blue water and a cabana worker offering an ice-cold beverage in an oversized glass. Instead, my go-to visualization usually involves buying a footlong hotdog with extra mustard from

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