I come from one-of-the-generations which have fallen in love with their morning paper. My morning move to fetch it — through rain, sleet, snow, wind, pea-soup fog, soft sunshine or utter darkness — always grounds me in the here-and-now (no matter what my dreams have suggested). Seeing the morning paper lying in wait in “whatever” climate condition prevails… creates a hunger in me to consume the day.
So I was extremely frustrated when my Times carrier began dropping my beloved Times off much later than the 5:30-5:45am window I had requested. On a complaint call to the Times they suggested that they couldn’t get my paper to me that early in-the-morning – to which I replied that I would have to cancel. The Times agent suggested that they would try to get the paper dropped off during my requested window.
The paper came-on-time for-a-few-days, and then, punctual delivery became sporadic again. I couldn’t take it anymore. My breakfast was getting screwed up; my coffee didn’t taste right; and, most inconveniently – my morning constitution was terribly compromised. I called the Times after 2 weeks of this Hell and said cancel my paper and give me the Times on e-mail. Then, as if God Itself intervened – the voice from my beloved Times said I could have both versions for the same price! I asked if I had died and gone to heaven?! If the hardcopy didn’t arrive on time – I could read my electronic version!! What could be better?! It was like morning sex under all-the-right-conditions!!!
And suddenly, my hardcopy paper started coming on time. Was my “paperboy” feeling the competition from the computer-version of the Times? I’m not sure – but my Times came-on-time for 3-straight-weeks – and I remember picking up my paper one morning and thinking: “I’m going to have to give my carrier a great Christmas bonus this year.” But the next morning that I came to collect my paper – it hadn’t arrived.
No problem thought I — I will have my copy on the Internet. And sure enough – there it was. It was pretty cool munching on my Cheerios and drinking my coffee as I scrolled my way through The Times – but sitting on the can for that Morning Constitution – with the Toshiba on my lap — was a bit odd…and, I’m not sure that I could replicate this procedure on a daily basis.
I am learning that I must now consider myself Old School. Once-upon-a-time I considered myself revolutionary and progressive, particularly in music – but now I am happy to listen to the Blues (from any era and any artist that has felt the Blues). I can’t keep up with the pace of this culture – “it is too much with me late and soon,” or, as T.S. Elliot put it in his Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: “I grow old, I grow old – I shall wear my trousers rolled.”
I often wonder if my Times “paperboy” wants to “bust out” of the confines this culture prescribes. I wonder if he tastes the early hours of darkness as he loads up for his paper run, and then, does he pull over to marvel – at the rising sun – as I start my day, all undone?