-
1 month ago | 
telegraphherald.com | Larry Goldberg
In 1965, I met Chuck Pryor in Cranford, N.J., a suburban enclave 22 miles from Manhattan. He had just moved to town, and we met each other where all the neighborhood kids congregated, at the High Street playground, across the street from Chuck’s house. I was only 11 at the time, and I was glad to find another boy my age to hang with. That was also where we met Steve McGrath, one of our schoolmates.
-
2 months ago | 
telegraphherald.com | Larry Goldberg
I rode my bicycle in Cranford, N.J., in 1965, cruising down High Street hill with my neighborhood friends, Chuck, Barry and Mike. My bike was a nondescript black Schwinn, but to me it was pure gold. We followed the rough trails along the Rahway River, which wound through the town, and we peddled in parks, on ballfields and on every street in that suburban oasis only 22 miles from Manhattan.
-
Mar 11, 2025 | 
telegraphherald.com | Larry Goldberg
My son, Ben, was born in 1990, and my daughter, Emily, followed a few years later. Like many young couples, Kate and I were running around like crazy, trying to manage the kids and work. This perpetually chaotic state made it challenging to prepare a decent family meal and take proper care of ourselves.
-
Feb 11, 2025 | 
telegraphherald.com | Larry Goldberg
When I was living in the East Village in New York City in the 1980s, I used to go to an old dentist who worked alone in a musty office: No frills, no assistants, no music, no fanfare. He was inexpensive and suited my needs in those days, and I assumed I was getting adequate dental care. When my family and I moved to Dubuque in 1997, we saw a number of local dentists, and I was amazed at the excellent care we received.
-
Dec 12, 2024 | 
telegraphherald.com | Larry Goldberg
As basketball die-hard fans of Iowa native Caitlin Clark know, women’s college basketball is in full swing, and ravenous devotees cry for more. They will be devouring basketball from now until March Madness and the grand conclusion of the women’s tournament. But 50 years ago, before Clark, there was Carol Blazejowski, and I played against her.
-
Nov 13, 2024 | 
telegraphherald.com | Larry Goldberg
I have Parkinson’s disease. Somebody had to (a nod to my brilliant hero, Bill Bryson, “The Lost Continent”). According to the Parkinson’s Foundation (www.parkinson.org), about a million people in the United States have Parkinson’s disease, or PD. I was first diagnosed with PD in the spring of this year. The variety and number of symptoms I was feeling had mounted; they probably go back 10 or more years, but at first were not recognized as possible signs of PD.
-
Aug 12, 2024 | 
telegraphherald.com | Larry Goldberg
Baby girl Goldberg was already swaddled in her bassinet when the obstetric nurse released an earsplitting cry that reverberated down the hospital corridor. “Doctor! Come Quickly! There’s another one!”The piercing scream and my mother’s next contraction brought the obstetrician with an unsettling surname to the delivery room. Dr. Hymen gowned up and, before he reached my mother’s gurney, I made my entrance.
-
Jul 8, 2024 | 
telegraphherald.com | Larry Goldberg
Recently, my wife Kate and I were dining at Versus 2.0 Authentic Asian Kitchen/Bar, a Pan-Asian restaurant in Dubuque that serves sumptuous meals such as Filipino pancit and Thai drunken noodles. We sat together, next to each other, on the same side of the table. It was cozy and comfortable, the same way we sat in restaurants decades ago, back in New Jersey and New York.
-
Jun 10, 2024 | 
telegraphherald.com | Larry Goldberg
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” — Shakespeare’s Romeo and JulietLet’s start with the family name, Goldberg, on my father’s side. According to family lore, Grandpa Jake was originally Jacob Goldenberg (from Poland), who passed through Ellis Island with his wife, Fanny (from Romania), with nary a name change.
-
May 13, 2024 | 
telegraphherald.com | Larry Goldberg
It takes my wife, Kate, at least a half hour (or more if she’s having a particularly good time) to bid adieu to friends at a dinner party. I try to catch her attention, using my old tricks, pointing at my wristwatch, looming over her. “It’s time to leave,” I say. “Yes, I know,” she says, but keeps right on chatting with our friends, who are not ready to leave either. I keep the pressure on. “You asked me to remind you that you have an early meeting in the morning. Plus we have to let out the dogs.
