When I walked out to the driveway, my morning newspaper was missing. Again. No problem: The Albuquerque Journal has an electronic edition and I read it on my iPad, as I do when I’m out of town.
Then it occurred to me: I no longer need a daily delivery of newsprint. After all, I’ve been reading the Wall Street Journal online for years. So I switched to an electronic-only subscription and will save $15.57 a month.
I had a moment’s hesitation because this is a big milestone for me. Newspapers have been part of my life as long as I can remember. My folks got a couple of newspapers a day and I started reading them as soon as I could understand the comics. I delivered newspapers as a kid and was editor of my high school newspaper.
In college I worked part-time as a reporter for the weekly paper I had delivered a few years earlier. One of my public relations jobs required me to read all four Chicago newspapers and clip anything of interest to the company. Over the years I edited at least a dozen employee publications, most of which were in newspaper format. Handling newspapers smudged my fingers so often that I joked about printer’s ink leaking out of my veins. I can only guess at the number of trees I participated in killing.
The impermanence of newsprint shaped my attitude toward my work. I never thought I was writing timeless literature because I knew my newspaper article would wrap garbage or line a birdcage in a couple of days. Publishing a book a few years ago was a novelty because I had created an artifact that was registered with the Library of Congress and would endure on a bookshelf.
I already had made the atoms-to-bits transition in my work. In the last decade or so of my freelance career most of what I wrote was published and distributed electronically. My last employee publication was a website. Often the only paper evidence of my work was the check I received from the client. And this blog goes out into the cloud.
So I was ready to sever my connection with newsprint, but not without mixed feelings. Seeing the words I wrote appear in print gave me a sense of accomplishment and wonder that I still relish. I will always have fond memories of Sunday mornings with five pounds of Chicago Tribune.
As a former paperboy, I had a moment of sympathy for the carrier whose missed deliveries prompted my decision to go electronic. But I will not miss stepping onto a frigid driveway in the winter and will have more room in my recycling bin. Perhaps this will save a tree or two. Not to mention $15.57 a month.