Newspapers
Things are a-changin', or they already have.
Moving to the “mountains” almost twenty years ago, I soon found out that even simple things could be changed forever. What may not have been a big deal to most, bothers me to this day. There was no morning newspaper delivery “up here.”
From the time since I was nine years old, newspapers have been a big part of my life. With the money made delivering the “paper” (plus tips) I was able to buy my first car at age sixteen. I kept the paper route until my junior year of high school. While some kids did the fast-food thing for money in high school, I was working for tips.
I carried my infatuation with newspapers well into adulthood. I have even considered signing up for an adult paper route a couple of times in my life. Hey, traveling America, building (construction language) that will be torn down in a hundred years is not as glamorous as it sounds. Sorry, I might be drifting off in a direction we might not want to go.
Anyway, as an adult, I developed a dependence on reading the morning newspaper to start every morning. I was devastated to find that no newspapers were delivered to houses on our road. I was told I could have the paper mailed to our house, arriving the next day. I was told I could pick up a paper at the restaurant/convenience store just fifteen miles down the road. Don’t mention this to Elaine, but secretly I was choosing to live with Elaine or moving back to town to get home delivery. (I made the right choice.)
Eventually, I became used to (but never comfortable) getting “news” from the computer. I have never watched local TV news, too many car wrecks, and murders. I get weather reports by looking outside. If that doesn’t work, someone you know will tell you what they know about the weather for the next ten days. Oops, drifting again.
A couple of weeks ago, I was chatting with an old friend. Somehow, we got on the subject of newspapers. He told me about a paper he reads. He told me he reads it digitally every morning and the paper comes to his home in paper form once a week. He informed me although digital, it was like an old-time newspaper, written by reporters. No political slant. Just news, but with an editorial page. Just like an old-time paper.
Last week, a paper copy of the same newspaper arrived at the house via the mail. I gave it a quick look and carelessly left it on the kitchen cabinet with the rest of the mail. I planned on actually giving it a thorough look later. In walks Girl Twin.
Girl Twin: Is this a newspaper, a real newspaper? Me: Of course, it’s a newspaper. What do you think it is? Girl Twin: I don’t know, I’ve never seen a real newspaper. Me: This is unbelievable. Girl Twin: Why would anyone want to read this, just use your phone.
Things have changed. I might be living in the wrong century!
Although Elaine and I have been married since 1977, there have been times we are not on the same page. Yesterday was one of those times. While shopping at WallyWorld, Elaine was focused to get the stuff and get home. I didn’t have the same motivation. I was shopping, or at least looking. I guess Elaine was slightly frustrated. It came to a head, when Elaine said, “You are walking so (construction language) slow, I’m surprised you don’t fall over.” She wasn’t done. Arriving back at the car, Elaine said, “All you need is a giant shell. Next week, you are staying home.” Elaine knows, “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me”. I’ll be shopping next Saturday.
Your Daily Fiber is open for phone and online orders. Deliveries are going well, although we did need to take that responsibility from Elaine. Powerlines on the west slope are taking precedent.
Our crazy lives!
Monner
