This morning, Saturday, our newspaper was not delivered. The Sunday advertising and fluff pages were however delivered. I don't know how that happens, are there two delivery persons? Does one person make two trips?
Anyhow, this is the second time in a week with no newspaper, so my wife sent a scathing, but polite, Email to the circulation dept. and they responded that they would make sure we got a paper today.
Long story short, we went out to run our typical Saturday errands and when we arrived home, lo and behold, there's a newspaper in our driveway. It was another Sunday advertising and fluff sections, but by golly it was a newspaper.
This got me to thinking about my times as a paperboy in a southeast suburb of Cleveland, Ohio.
You need to know that my brother and I (we shared a "route") were 13 and 14 years old.
Every morning, except Sundays, Mom woke us at 4:30 am to make our walk or bike ride to the top of the suburban street where the paper guy would leave our wire bound bundles of newspapers on the bench of a bus stop. A pair of pliers was needed to cut the wires off the bundles so the papers could be stuffed into muslin bags with thick shoulder straps and we were on our way!
Many of customers were steel and auto workers who needed to be on the job at 5:00 - 5:30 am, and many of them liked to read the paper before leaving home. They tipped us for this service, which is why we rose at 4:30. Did I tell you my Dad was an auto worker? That's why Mom was up at 4:30 am.
Next week, weather, bicycles, milk chutes, and lawns.
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