Saturday, June 11, 2011

Saying goodbye to an old friend.

Ah...Saturday. Who doesn't love a relaxed Saturday morning?

Okay, maybe people with new children or puppies, the two entities oblivious to the sanctity of an official sleep-in day. Saturday or Tuesday—doesn't matter when your kid has just awoken to a soaking diaper and hankering for a little human lactose smoothie.

Okay, maybe also those who must work weekends, those who aren't fortunate enough to stick to the same schedule that they had growing up and going to school; non-cubicle jobs like waitress, fire fighter, weed dealer or newspaper carrier.

Speaking of newspaper carrier, the circle has now closed on my initial point. I know I've spoken about this before, but it's time to mention this topic again, because an era is ending. The familiar act of cracking the front door and bowing my stiff lumbar to scoop up the paper, engulfed by the aroma of the crisp morning air, is ceasing.

I've cancelled my newspaper subscription.

Subscribing to Seattle's last printed paper,
The Seattle Times, runs approximately two hundred dollars for a year's worth of weekend service. It's really not much until you consider that the Saturday edition is now about the size of The Chinook Wind, my elementary school newsletter. Those two Benjamins could be better spent buying four hundred dollars worth of Groupons for pole dancing class.

I'm not particularly happy about contributing to the demise of an institution, just as I'm sure no one felt good about spending an entire day at the mall searching for digital camera film. But, as the Reverend Harold Camping proclaimed on May 22, "Apparently, life goes on."

Let's face the facts. Most of us only scan the headlines because most of us have grown acclimated to perusing our monitors and drawing conclusions from tiny bytes of information. Even the older among us, and I include myself within that group, have become quite adept at gleaning an article's essence from just a few words.

To illustrate my point, the following headlines appeared today on, and I'll demonstrate my carefully honed aptitude for deciphering the gist of a story:

"Weiner to take a 'leave of absence,' seek treatment."

For a minute, I thought they were referring to most guys over forty, whose weiners left for vacation with no forwarding address, but then I realized this headline is expounding on the tribulations of a congressman who refreshingly opposed any type of cover up.

"New Yorkers weigh in on Weiner."

Ouch! Get off! You've flattened it, you bastards!
Okay, no more Weiner jokes.

"Palin emails show work, feuds."

I don't even care about this headline. I'd rather take giblet gravy beer bongs than read Sarah Palin's emails.

"Buffet lunch auctioned for $2,626,411."

That would only have been $1,313,205.50 if that person had used a Groupon.

"Chewable Viagra popular in Mexico."

Aha! Finally we have a forwarding address for all those vacationing weiners.
Oh, sorry, I did say no more weiner jokes.

"Morgan apologizes for anti-gay rant."

Good idea.

"Marines honored for heroism."

That's like saying "Urologists honored for prostate exams." Marines are all heroes.

"Gingrich vows 'whatever it takes'."
I'm not sure if Newt wants to be making such a statement, unless he's willing to change political party, intelligence, attitude and race, and heretofore refer to himself as Barack Obama.

Kidding aside, I feel bad for the employees of America's slowly dying newspapers, especially those who rise, rain or shine, at ridiculous o'clock to assure that the paper is waiting on our doorsteps. Thank you for a job well done.

I heard Newt is hiring.

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