Saturday, February 28
Death of the Rocky
I'm not a highly religious person, but I still consider the morning newspaper a miracle. Even with all the instant wireless net stuff and Tweeting this and Facebooking that and blogging everything else -- and don't forget good ol' TV! -- the coordination required to report, write, edit and manufacture a several-dozen-page daily printed newspaper and have it delivered to my doorstep each morning for about 50 cents a pop is still something worth appreciating.
Long ago, I worked for several newspapers from tiny ones to small weeklies to medium-sized dailies owned-by-the-NY-Times, and it never ceased to amaze me that I could be up at midnight typing frantically to beat a deadline, go home, eat a bowl of cereal, watch Letterman, sleep and wake up a few hours later and have a newspaper on my driveway, waiting for me, with my words in it.
I bring this up simply because Denver lost its Rocky Mountain News on Friday, after nearly 150 years of turning out a paper. It's gone. Newspapers seem doomed, which is a shame.
Maybe some genius will figure out a way for all those editors and pressmen and writers and photographers to find a way to get paid and be employed in the digital future. I sure hope so.
Long ago, I worked for several newspapers from tiny ones to small weeklies to medium-sized dailies owned-by-the-NY-Times, and it never ceased to amaze me that I could be up at midnight typing frantically to beat a deadline, go home, eat a bowl of cereal, watch Letterman, sleep and wake up a few hours later and have a newspaper on my driveway, waiting for me, with my words in it.
I bring this up simply because Denver lost its Rocky Mountain News on Friday, after nearly 150 years of turning out a paper. It's gone. Newspapers seem doomed, which is a shame.
Maybe some genius will figure out a way for all those editors and pressmen and writers and photographers to find a way to get paid and be employed in the digital future. I sure hope so.
