Tuesday, November 22, 2005 :::
Where Is My Newspaper?
Nothing chaps my hide more than wandering down my driveway in the rain to discover that my paper isn't there. Okay. Maybe it's just late. That can happen. No one else has their paper either...those garish, neon-yellow encased Times-Dispatches that make it possible to find your paper even if it's been tossed under a pile of leaves or deep inside a snowbank. I don't get the TD during the week. I get the Wall Street Journal It comes in an old-fashioned clear wrapper that requires extra-special sleuthing technology to find on dark mornings. Nope. It's not in the ditch. Or the holly tree. Or the mailbox.
I trudge back up the long hill in a darkening mood. I haven't received a Journal since Friday.
Calls to the self-described customer service department have gotten me credits for the missed deliveries and, I've been told, terse notes to the local circulation manager regarding the problem.
Those notes had better get some results.
Ah hah! There's the paper carrier! The electric yellow copies of the TD are flying from the driver's side window. There is hope!
No there isn't.
No paper. Again.
Another call to WSJ customer service. I'm on hold. They are playing Christmas music. I am nearly homicidal.
The operator apologizes for the missed delivery. Another, extra-terse note will be sent to the circulation manager. I ask if there is a wider problem with Journal deliveries in my area. She doesn't know...only my account shows on her screen.
Isn't that special.
I swing by 7-11 on my way in. They have a fresh stack of Journals waiting to be purchased. Reluctantly, I buy one, knowing full-well that I've undermined my own subscription extension. But dammit, I want my paper!
Under any other circumstances, missing delivery is no big deal for many people. But once upon a time, I had an after school paper route delivering the Denver Post (back in the stone age when papers had afternoon editions and kids could deliver the news and earn a couple of bucks to buy comic books). It was hard work...especially in the winter, when unpleasant things like blizzards could make delivering the paper a bit of a challenge.
But even with all that, the non-delivery of my paper wouldn't matter so much if the Times-Dispatch vice president of circulation had not penned this item on Sunday lauding the paper's delivery force (TD carriers also deliver the Journal).
It's actually a rather touching story. And I sympathize with the carrier in the piece. But then I come to this:
I TOLD this carrier after I heard her story that I wished she had called me -- I would have delivered the route for her.
If Kirkman is serious, then here's a challenge for him: my paper has been AWOL since last week. No one knows why. If you're really serious about pitching in and helping your carriers...even delivering the papers yourself, if that's what it takes, then find out where mine has been these last few days. Even better, wedge yourself into one of those shoe-box sized TD company cars and deliver my papers with your own hands.
Jim Bacon has wondered aloud who will report the news. But as the lovely and talented Mrs. Leahy remarked this morning, it's bad enough that papers have reporters who make shit up (she can be a salty when the mood strikes). If they can't even deliver the damned things, they may as well shut the presses down now.
::: posted by Norman Leahy at 11/22/2005
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