WOOF! WOOF WOOF! WOOF! That’s the signal you hear in my house when the Times Union thumps down on the front stoop at about 4:30am. It’s nice that the dogs announce the arrival of the newspaper; I’m usually up by then so I step outside grab itÂ —but only after the carrier has cleared the house so they don’t think I’m in there waiting.
There would be four days less barking if we lived in Michigan and subscribed to the Detroit Free Press. That’s the paper that’s cut home delivery down to three days a week: Thursday, Friday, and Sunday. To me that’s a tragedy.
Internet or no internet, it’s hard to beat a real newspaper. Sure, you can sit at the computer and get your news, but can you fold a computer and stick it under you arm? Can you really sit outside and read it while having your coffee? Pull it apart and share it with someone? No. And newsprint isn’t just handy, it’s aesthetically pleasing. Your monitor is not a newspaper in the same way Kindle is not a book. And who wants to read the comics on a computer? Or the obituaries.
Yes, I get lots of news off the web every day —but the print edition remains an important part of my life. And the dogs? It’s their job to bark when that newspaper lands. You want to put a dog out of work?