This Throws Off My Groove
Apparently, my newspaper carrier has forgotten to spring forward.
How the heck am I supposed to blog if my brain hasn't been sufficiently engaged with not only the world, but my world?
And, don't suggest reading them on-line, either. It simply isn't the same. Even with a laptop, sitting in my chair scrolling up and down electronic images isn't the same as the romantic ritual. You know...like taking it out of the protective rain sleeve (and, just to let you know that my newspaper delivery person only has a clock-setting deficiency, my paper comes double sleeved on potentially rainy days), putting the sections in "A-B-C-D, etc." order--Main, Metro, Sports, Business, Entertainment, (every now and then a "Healthy Living" or "Home" section gets thrown in) Comics--and either laying it out on my kitchen table and flipping page by page or sitting in my chair.
This ritual is important, folks. It gets the brain moving.
Scrolling on a screen just doesn't have the same romance. And don't get me started on the coffee issue, either. If you spill a bit on the paper, well, no real biggie...but the caution of the cup around the keyboard and such...well...I think I've made my case for not doing this on-line.
Similarly, on Friday, my smokin' hot shutterbug trophy wife had the detail of trying to secure tickets to Opening Day by getting on-line the minute they went on sale (our Texas Rangers sell out about 6 times a year: Opening Day and the five times the Yankees are in-town. 7 if they have fireworks on July 4.). She had complete success and when I got home there were 3 sheets of paper--one for each ticket and one for the parking pass--that had been colorfully and functionally printed out, complete with bar code for scanning. But somehow, the romance of having the actual tickets and the actual rearview mirror hanging parking pass wasn't there.
I get it.
They're both functional and ultimately more inexpensive. Not to mention convenient.
But I like my ticket stubs that eventually become book marks.
And I like flipping through my 24-inch by 36-inch pages that leave mild ink residue on my fingers and can withstand a little coffee spillage.
Sheesh.
Could I *be* more middle aged?
Apparently, my newspaper carrier has forgotten to spring forward.
How the heck am I supposed to blog if my brain hasn't been sufficiently engaged with not only the world, but my world?
And, don't suggest reading them on-line, either. It simply isn't the same. Even with a laptop, sitting in my chair scrolling up and down electronic images isn't the same as the romantic ritual. You know...like taking it out of the protective rain sleeve (and, just to let you know that my newspaper delivery person only has a clock-setting deficiency, my paper comes double sleeved on potentially rainy days), putting the sections in "A-B-C-D, etc." order--Main, Metro, Sports, Business, Entertainment, (every now and then a "Healthy Living" or "Home" section gets thrown in) Comics--and either laying it out on my kitchen table and flipping page by page or sitting in my chair.
This ritual is important, folks. It gets the brain moving.
Scrolling on a screen just doesn't have the same romance. And don't get me started on the coffee issue, either. If you spill a bit on the paper, well, no real biggie...but the caution of the cup around the keyboard and such...well...I think I've made my case for not doing this on-line.
Similarly, on Friday, my smokin' hot shutterbug trophy wife had the detail of trying to secure tickets to Opening Day by getting on-line the minute they went on sale (our Texas Rangers sell out about 6 times a year: Opening Day and the five times the Yankees are in-town. 7 if they have fireworks on July 4.). She had complete success and when I got home there were 3 sheets of paper--one for each ticket and one for the parking pass--that had been colorfully and functionally printed out, complete with bar code for scanning. But somehow, the romance of having the actual tickets and the actual rearview mirror hanging parking pass wasn't there.
I get it.
They're both functional and ultimately more inexpensive. Not to mention convenient.
But I like my ticket stubs that eventually become book marks.
And I like flipping through my 24-inch by 36-inch pages that leave mild ink residue on my fingers and can withstand a little coffee spillage.
Sheesh.
Could I *be* more middle aged?
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