I got thinking the other day, as I was watching a sitcom, about paperboys of the past. Maybe in some areas, they still ply their trade – sacks of newspapers over their shoulders or tucked into baskets on bikes, riding down the street and casually tossing the papers onto the front porch, or onto the roof, into the rosebushes, under the sprinkler. We don’t have that any more, at least not in our area. Mine is a surly young man in a vehicle about the size of a smart car. The transmission and exhaust system have done their duty and are trying to retire gracefully. He arrives sometime before dawn, because he obviously can’t see where to drop the paper. So he’ll leave it conveniently in the middle of the roadway I share with the neighbors in our condo complex, where they’ll be sure to drive over it. Continue reading “The Paperboy”
I'm Thinking...No! 