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  • Growing up in Iowa we had our Sunday routines but one of the routines was the Sunday paper. Mom and dad would have their coffee and sit down to read the paper for what seemed like (and probably was) ... Hours.

    They would dole out comics to me and the sports page to my older brother. Paper and kids would be spread out over the living room floor. No TV would be on as we need absolute silence for the ritual of the paper.

    Occasionally the silence would be broken by mom saying, "Bill ... Did you hear about ...?" Or dad saying, "What will they think of next?"

    Then a giggle from me as I read Blondie.
  • As I grew up I continued the Sunday paper ritual. Even as I traveled ... After I finished college ... After I was married ... After I had a child.

    But it seemed the paper got thinner and thinner, with more ads, and less news. Sometimes the print quality wasn't as good. Technology became stronger and stronger.

    One day I said, "Let's not get the paper anymore, I can find all the news on my computer or I-phone."
  • It's overwhelming.

    Too much news. Sound bites, videos, snippets of this and that. Where is the rest of the story? (I miss Paul Harvey!)

    Comments (can people really be so cruel?)

    Man's inhumanity to man like film clips spinning ever faster and faster.

    Do I really need to hear about the life of the common (wo)man? When it is so trivial and or disgusting? Is there any good news? Politics of tearing down each other to one up and get a vote? For what? Who is less idiotic than the other? Who has made more mistakes than the other?

    Social media.
    Media ... Yes.
    Social ... No.

    What food should I eat?
    What diet should I take?
    Ads that look like news to trap you.

    What child is now hopelessly lost in a society spinning out of control?

    Is it any wonder?
  • Now that I think about it, the Sunday paper did have some human interest stories.

    Like the time I was in the paper with my brother when we got our new dog after our other one tragically died. Or the time I caught a four pound bass at Lake Manawa. Or the time they showed our neighborhood Fourth of July parade.

    But that was in Iowa and in another time.

    Not that there wasn't war or famine or death - just not in my little world.

    Laying on the floor, reading Blondie, sipping a glass of milk, and giggling.
  • The picture is from a newspaper that I clipped and put in my scrapbook as a child. I must have thought it was funny at the time to include in my childhood memories.

    Apparently it was also newsworthy from the newspapers standpoint. It is about a woman recording her husband's snoring to prove to him he does.

    I guess some things never change ... no matter how modern we get!
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