Column: Something About Nothing

I opened the front door. I peeked my head out the door and peered down the street. I looked to the left. I looked to the right. The coast was clear. I scurried down the front steps in my bare feet in search of my morning paper. I found it laying to the side of the steps, reached down and quickly grabbed it tightly in my hand and scurried back up the steps. Before closing the door behind me I again glanced down the street and to the right and left making sure no one had seen my quick dash in my pajamas.

One of my most favorite things is lying in bed in the morning and reading my morning paper; at least it used to be. I haven’t subscribed to an actual physical paper in a long time. I have been reading my newspapers online but it wasn’t the same. When someone called and offered me a great deal on the physical paper again I decided to indulge so that I could again experience reading my paper in bed in the morning.

I remember years ago receiving my morning paper at my door. All I had to do was open the door and reach down and pick up my paper without ever leaving my house. I used to commiserate with my kids that lived in larger communities. Their papers would be tossed on their lawns exposed to the weather and they would have to scurry in secret to their lawn to find their paper. Secretly I felt smug that in my smaller community my paper was delivered almost inside of my house.

Imagine what a surprise it was to me to find that in 2011 to experience my paper I had to go on a treasure hunt every morning. The first few mornings it was an amazing hunt. I never found my paper. They hid it so well it wasn’t there. The next few mornings it was in my paper slot. Wonderful!

After that the hunt began. Some days my paper is lying on my bottom step flopping in the wind. One early morning I heard a bang. I sat up and wondered what had exploded. It was my paper hitting my front door and then falling into the mud at the side of the steps. It was a great alarm clock.

Some mornings my paper decides to travel down my sidewalk on the way to my neighbors. That makes the scurrying outside in my PJ’s a little more challenging. Who knows what cameras are set up waiting to capture my secret scurrying so I become a YouTube sensation.

My biggest challenge when it comes to reading my paper in bed is on the days it is damp and rainy. For a while my paper came in a plastic bag so it would not get wet while it waited for me to be on my treasure hunt to find it. Recently however my paper wants to enjoy the rain and drips all over my bed as I am trying to read it carefully so it doesn’t fall to pieces in my hands.

Times have changed. Service is not the same. We live in a fast-paced world. I would like to make a few disclaimers. The newspaper that is delivering my paper is not the one I write for, so, Tribune, rest easy. I also do not know who my delivery person is and I am not complaining about them. I am sure they are doing what works for them to keep on their schedule in their fast-paced world. I also have not complained to the newspaper. It seems like a small inconvenience in the grand scheme of things.

There is the fact that each day I wake up to a treasure hunt. It makes life interesting wondering where, oh, where is my paper today. I might not feel that way in the winter but imagine how fast I will wake up scurrying in the crisp winter air.

Wells resident Julie Seedorf’s column appears every Monday. Send email to her at thecolumn@bevcomm.net.