A little while ago, my sister, Paula, posted a lament on
Facebook related to the skyrocketing cost of her daily paper. She has been reading the San Francisco
Chronicle, cover to cover, every day for as long as I can remember. Like me, she doesn’t particularly like
e-readers, and prefers the real thing in periodicals, newspapers, and books. Plus, that paper has contributed to some of
her best tales (like running out to get it in her coat over a slip, one day,
before work, and then forgetting that was all she had on, and almost going to
work like that). I may have gotten that story a little bit twisted, but I think
I’m close. Anyway, she decided to fork over the funds and continue receiving
her paper each day, despite the exorbitant price.
In a similar vein, I was at a home show a month or so ago,
and the Seattle Times had a booth there.
I decided to sign up for the daily paper, since our local rags don’t
publish daily (not do they have lots of national news). I have grown weary of watching news on TV; it’s
just the same 30 seconds over and over and over again (except for PBS Newshour,
which I do love).
I love everything about the newspaper: the feel of the pages,
the rustling noise they make when I turn them, the more-in-depth information I
can get from them…and the non-news bits.
When I was a child,
my dad tried to come home from work every day around 4:00 pm. He and I would go downstairs to the family
room, have a little drink together (I mentioned this in a previous blog post,
and will again say that having a little bit of bourbon in the late afternoon
with my father from the time I was about nine years old never seemed to hurt
anyone), and watch chat shows while he read the paper. I would wait (not so) patiently while he went
through the “boring parts” (news) until he got to the section with comics and
puzzles. At that point, we would read
the comics together, me perched on the arm of his big easy chair, and then we’d
do the Jumble. I think the comics page
and those puzzles probably played a decent role in my early reading skills
(that, plus my sister forcing me to read “Stage Coach Days,” which I bet Paula
still has in her vast library). I would
even ask him to do the Bridge puzzle with me, but I didn’t have a clue what all
of the information meant, and I’m not sure my dad even knew how to play
bridge. We typically skipped that one.
So, once my Seattle Times started showing up on my doorstep
each morning, I dove right in and was reunited with all of my old friends,
including the comics and the puzzles.
Now, when I turn the pages in the news sections, I think of my sister,
and wonder if she’s having her morning cup of hot water and reading her beloved
Chronicle at the same time that I am having my coffee and reading my
Times. I think of my brother’s house in
Idaho, when we visit each summer, and how much I love coming downstairs,
hearing the rustling even before I hit the landing, and seeing the kitchen table with the paper on
it, and Marc or Janet (my brother and sister-in-law) there reading through
glasses, neither of them having yet put in their contacts. But mostly, I think of my dad and doing the
Jumble and reading comics with him every day for years.
Last summer, when we were visiting with Marc and Janet, my
brother and I did the Jumble together. Again,
I was transported back in time. It was
heavenly.
So, I hope that Paula is reading this, and Janet, too. Keep getting the real paper. It’s not just about the news; it’s about a
way of life that is valuable and so easily remembered. It’s about comfort and happiness and
warmth. Not a bad investment, if you ask
me.
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