This morning my roommates and I went to Muddy’s and dedicated a few hours to our favorite family pastime — pretending to read The New York Times. Generally speaking I pretend to read the Book Review; my roommate Jeff, who also subscribes to Harpers, pretends to read Politics (occasionally reading headlines aloud to us, for added effect); and Sarah glances over the pictures in SundayStyles.
Our fourth roommate, Lena, stays in bed on Sundays until 4pm or later and sets a few sections next to her plate at dinner. On weekdays we don’t even bother unfolding it; typically, I will shake it out of its blue plastic bags (two per issue, which are added to an ever-growing “bag of bags” in the basement) in the morning, dutifully display it on the table for the duration of the day, and then put in in the recycling bin at night.
It would never occur to use to get it canceled. We like getting The Times. We like referring to it, complaining about it, shuffling it around, and spending less time on the computer, scrolling through the Dos And Don’ts or pretending to read blogs. Being Times subscribers helps us to define our personal brand: We are smart, well-read, reasonable people who have embraced our inevitable future transformation into yuppies, at which point we will be too stressed out by our spoiled, attention-deficit-ed offspring to actually read up on issues. For now, we’re old enough to comprehend the articles and young enough that we’re still forming our opinions on things. We’d be the perfect newspaper readers, if any of us had the attention spans necessary to do more than skim.
There’s been a lot of talk lately about the Death of the Newspaper. Readership is down, subscriptions are way, way down, the Post Intelligence is getting bought by Scrooge McDuck. I believe it, 100%. I’m well aware that you can get all of the news, for free, on the internet; that classifieds have been replaced, rightly so, by Craigslist; and I also know that, in the same way that I am not unique, my roommates are not unique, and that therefore there must be other people out there, paying 5 bucks for a Sunday paper they’re only pretending to absorb.
In closing:
1. Is The New York Times a fashion\lifestyle accessory?
2. When the newspaper industry folds entirely, can we replace it with authentic radio?
3. Does anybody have a great idea for creative newspaper recycling? I found a few lists at The Craft Gossip Blog Network, which included these extraordinary newspaper slippers:
I’m thinking these will be great gifts for my friends and family in the coming year. Just let me know if you want a pair.
