Not so long ago, I used to say to friends that I hoped printed newspapers would last longer than I did, because I couldn’t imagine starting the morning without a folded paper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Imagine my surprise when this old journalism major instead was the first to give up
Yes, we have canceled our subscription to the daily delivery of the local newspaper, the San Luis Obispo Tribune. I feel a little guilty, especially when its parent company, McClatchy Papers, filed bankruptcy a day later. (Not that their decision had anything to do with our subscription. They were seeking a way out of their pension mess.)
An end of an era. Saying our own goodbye to the daily paper being delivered.
Don’t get me wrong. I still love reading the newspaper every morning. For years, we have subscribed to the Kindle edition of the Los Angeles Times, so I still start my day with a newspaper read. And I prefer the e-edition of an on-line paper. I don’t want to go scampering around on-line lists of story titles that might interest me. I want to read what an editor has curated cover to cover.
Also, we still get so many magazines. The mail delivery person must think we’re spendthrifts in that regard. But the funny thing is that for the nearly $1000 a year the Tribune was demanding for local delivery, I easily pay for all my magazines, the online LA Times, and Amazon Prime—with money left over.
Robert and I grew tired of arguing every few months with the McClatchy overlords that we weren’t willing to pay their rates. For a while they would lower the price, and then would come the inevitable notice that the rates were going to a new level even higher than the one we bargained lower just months earlier. Meanwhile, the paper dropped its Saturday edition, regularly grew thinner, and filled its remaining pages with long, poorly edited wire stories.
I broke.
Sometimes, I think I’m not meant for this modern age. A lot of people seem to love the freedom of their on-line experiences. Not me. Increasingly, I find my Facebook and Twitter feeds clogged with promoted posts and tidbits based on some algorithm that makes no connection to my real interests. Amazon keeps suggesting books based on items I bought as gift for others. (You see . . . I still like discovering books for myself in a brick and mortar bookstore.) For a while, I enjoyed reading e-books, but I am back to the real thing. Thank God for our local library’s used book store which resells what half the town reads for pennies on the dollar. As for TV, Netflix, Amazon, and Hulu shows sound intriguing, but if I’m not paying a $1000 a year for the local paper, I’m certainly not subscribing to all those services for one or two shows that often bore me after the first few episodes. As for streaming music, I just don’t do it.
And don’t get me started on the metamorphosis of the phone. We hardly ever answer our landline any more. We look at the caller ID, and recognize that it’s almost certainly spam. Luckily we found an app called Nomorobo for landlines that cuts off suspect calls after one ring. (While I’m writing this, the phone rang. It wasn’t spam, but The Tribune. I guess someone wanted to have another bargaining session over delivery rates. I didn’t answer it.) On the other hand, our mobile phones do take great pix.
I just have to admit it. I’ve become an old curmudgeon. That unsettles me. It’s likely that there’s another twenty or more years on my personal runway. I often think I need to transition to something else or risk complete boredom.
Maybe giving up the printed paper will help me along that path.
I’ll send you a letter if it does.
Please check out all my novels in paperback or Kindle format, including: Tales from the Loon Town Cafe, The Finnish Girl, The Devil’s Analyst—and my latest, The Long Table Dinner.
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