I'm torn to see newspapers go
I love my laptop, but I'll miss the feel of paper.
San Pedro, Calif.
Every morning in the summer it's my job to pad down the outside steps of our apartment to pick up the Los Angeles Times in its plastic bag from the sidewalk.
After retrieving it, I straighten up and survey the sweep of the L.A. harbor. I breathe, savoring the salty San Pedro air. Inside, my husband awaits me with a mug of tea. It's our practice to sit at the kitchen table and read news stories out loud to each other.
But something has changed. There we sat one morning but, without even thinking, we had plopped open our yin and yang MacBooks (mine black, his white). Clicking away, Ted read me a headline from CNN, and I remarked on a wacky forward from a friend.
This went on for about 15 minutes before I remembered to get the paper. When I brought it upstairs and guiltily unsheathed it next to the two sleek laptops, it seemed an awkward suitor.
"Ah, the paper," my husband said, and set aside his laptop. But I can't deny it. Lifelong addicts to the printed daily paper, like chocoholics who lose their taste for the bonbon, we are moving on.
The print version of the L.A. Times is skinnier every day. And recently the cuts, resignations, and layoffs at the Times, in particular, were featured on CNN and the News Hour with Jim Lehrer.