Folks (of a
certain age) take newspapers for granted.
They walk down the
street and see the “news” – staring back at them from corner delis.
They don’t wonder
where it comes from. How this essential service magically appears every day. The
best of them just gather whatever chump change they have in their pocket and
pick up a copy – and read about the neighborhood, the country, the president,
their passion.
Box scores for
baseball fans, crossword puzzles for word nerds.
I remember the
daily “Peanuts” column. “Doonesbury.” “Bloom County” (sniff).
Features have come
and gone. But the papers, the promise, remains.
And here, on
Monday (July 23), the story breaks that the New York Daily News is cutting half
of its already drastically reduced staff. Photographers, gone. Sports reporters
and desk – slashed to the bone.
Ooof, that hurts.
As I’ve written here recently, I’ve got a stake or two in this opinion. In
fact, if my print job is still there (such history sparks caution) in 2020, I
will have worked in newspapers in each of the past six decades – 70s, 80s, 90s,
00s, 10s, and 20s.
It seems to me
that every other person I talk to these days is working on a “book.” What we
need are people working on newspapers.
Do your-soul a
favor and pick up a paper from your neighborhood newsstand. In fact, pick up
two. Repeat. At this rate, they may not be there forever.
Next: Running for Your Life: “Gatsby” Gulch
