Sunday, March 15, 2009

Give me hot newsprint, hot coffee, fresh news

In the New World Wreckage, many computer-age gurus predict the End is Near for many traditional institutions, including, Heaven forbid, newspapers. I hear the crunch of press rollers chomped into metallic scrap destined for a recycling plant.

Across the world, front lawns thirsteth not for spring rain that brings the flowers but shed large-font sized tears for the early morning plop of double-bagged news, newsprint hot with freshness that awakened American homes for generations.

The aromatic bite of brewed coffee will never be the same. Yonder, the news delivery man who dutifully greets the dawn in his appointed rounds, shifts into high gear and waves an affectionate farewell.

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