I am so old skool. I subscribed to the newspaper this week. You know, the pimply-kid-catapults-it-onto-your-driveway-from-a-beat-up-Corolla type of subscription, not the fancy-pants techy online-y type. I’m as avid a novice techie junkie as you’ll find (note Smartphone in pocket), but there’s only one way I want to read a newspaper.
I like whacking my elbows into my fellow commuters when I open up the paper and fold it, origami style, into the configuration that allows me to read the articles that have caught my eye. (You didn’t need that rib, did you?) I like taking up the whole dining room table to spread it out in all its glory. (Newsprinted toast, anyone?)
I like skimming all the articles on the page to get a good overview of what’s going on in the world of page 4. If I know what I’m looking for in an online edition, I’ll be inclined to skip straight to that. I like that my eyes have to skim over headlines to see what I will and won’t be interested in reading. Every now and again some random tidbit will catch my attention. Who knows? Maybe a love affair with a whole new topic will take hold.
I like the tangibility of the beginning, the middle and the end of the thing. Take in the start, skim, read, dip in, dip out, giggle, bugger-that-middle-page-always-drops-out, hold the bulk of it in my left hand as I near the end, muse over back-page antics.
It makes me wonder about the constant debates about the death of print media. I get it, things are changing. They have to. I just hope that instead of being an either/or/live/die scenario, it broadens the whole industry instead.
I like the thwack of rolled up paper on my driveway, wrestling with that God-awful plastic they insist on using, and enjoying my beginning, middle and end.