We still get the daily newspaper. You know, the paper one. The one they throw in your yard every morning at 5 or 5:30 AM. I still remember how grown up I felt when I moved into the first house, my wonderful town home, I bought (with help from Mommy and Daddy, of course) at 23 and ordered my own paper delivery. That piece of it seemed so grown up and responsible for some reason, to get my own copy of the Telegram.
Much has changed in that 25 years. Not the least of which is that newspapers are completely obsolete. We are inundated with new and more efficient ways of news delivery, 24/7/365. The paper has shrunk and shrunk in that time, especially in the last few years when readership levels have plummeted. It is no longer a part of American life. Americana, yes, but not how we live today.
Tomorrow is the last day for our delivery. I didn’t renew this year despite my affinity for our paperboy, who is a 60 or 70 something wonderful man named Bill. He is Carrier of the Year. I am melancholy about it because I do like the feel of the paper in my hand. I like the excitement of looking to see what’s in the paper. I can scan and skip anything that isn’t pertinent all on one easy page.
Unlike most everyone else on the planet I do not get other news sources like Yahoo, nor do I watch TV news or anything of the like. This is by design. I guard my mind like the temple it is so I do not allow just anyone or anything in. That is easy for me to do with the paper. I simply do not allow anything in that doesn’t help me. I think on things above. I have my own definition of that, of course, and you may not agree with it. That’s okay, I respect your opinion of what is important for you. For me, living this way brings energy, life, freedom and joy like I have never known before.
Farewell, friend Telegram. I celebrate you and all the wonderful years we had together.
