So it goes … to the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library


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I’d been holding on to my grandparents’ old manual typewriter for 10-plus years, regarding it as a cherished if no longer functional possession. As a writer, I valued its purpose. And as a sentimental fool, I appreciated its connection not just to my beloved grandmother and grandfather but also to a time of fewer distractions and more focused, carefully considered communication.

The Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library recently posted on its Facebook page that it was looking for a 1960s-era Smith-Corona manual typewriter, preferably a blue one, to use in an exhibit. Reading the post, and in spite of my fondness for that old Cougar XL, I knew it was time to say goodbye to my grandparents’ typewriter. I never used it; the powder-blue beauty sat in a dark corner of my attic. Without question, it would be better off as a centerpiece in an exhibit celebrating the work of Kurt Vonnegut.

Before shipping the typewriter to the library, I positioned it in a bathtub and took this photo. I’m sad to see it go, but I’m thankful it will assist in telling the story of a great American author.

If only Wes Welker had hands these skilled

Sports + Rec



As a fan of the Titans and Bears and a loather of the Giants and Patriots, I had little interest in the outcome of Super Bowl XLVI. Nonetheless, I made the short jaunt from Chicago to Indianapolis to take in the pregame frenzy firsthand. A surprising highlight for me was watching crafty Ohioans from Wilson Sporting Goods hand-construct footballs at the NFL Experience. Here’s a bonus photo of a Wilson employee at work, and one more for good measure.

Urban Indy examines a neighborhood’s demise




Urban Indy, a collaborative blog focused on urban design in Indianapolis, features an excellent post this week on a residential neighborhood that was wiped off the map by the construction of Interstate 65. The author, Chris Corr, uses aerial photos archived by the city — and easily accessible online — to show how a neighborhood nestled along Fall Creek and adjacent to Boulevard Place (the street on which my wife and I bought our first home) was transformed from tree-lined rows of homes to a blah blend of concrete and vacant spaces.

Not to decry the Eisenhower Interstate System, the benefits of which are significant. But Corr’s piece is valuable in that it forces you to consider that the mobility we enjoy is not without its costs. In this case, accessibility to Fall Creek was rendered challenging if not impossible, perfectly livable homes were razed, and, most importantly, families were forced to leave a seemingly scenic and pleasant neighborhood conveniently situated near downtown Indianapolis.

The neighborhood in 1962











The neighborhood in 1972, after the construction of I-65