Growing up in New York with parents who were blindly devoted to the Democratic Party no matter what, our family respected two Bibles: The New York Times, and The New Yorker magazine. I read both of these religiously until well into middle age, at which time I reluctantly started to think for myself. (It's so much harder!) My parents were both gone and I had become a parent myself. It was time to let go of my childish notions.
Even though they had published some of my drawings, which definitely opened doors as far as getting more freelance work, I let my subscription to The New Yorker lapse. It had simply become unreadable, unless you lived on the Upper West Side and shopped at Zabar's and thought the Earth revolved on its axis around the Clintons, none of which I did. Still, I kept reading the Times, although it too was becoming an obvious organ of the DNC. Still, there was the Sunday Magazine with its holy crossword puzzle, and unless or until politics permeated that weekly brain exercise I was determined to remain a faithful supporter.
Now I'm a senior citizen and I can say whatever the heck I want since, like Michael Dorsey said in Tootsie, "Age has no effect on me -- I'm a character actor." And what I'm saying is that both the Times and The New Yorker have nothing to offer anyone still capable of an independent thought.
Over the years they have morphed into the National Enquirer and the National Enquirer on Steroids, required reading for all those Prius-driving, NPR-supporting, Planned Parenthood-loving, never-Trumpers chomping down bagels at Zabar's and all the Zabar clones in affluent cities on both coasts. Especially on Sundays when they preach to the choir of their readers who, like Narcissus, look lovingly at their own reflections and then settle down with the editorial pages to find out what they should think, who they should mock, and more importantly, what to respond in case, God forbid a million times, they were to somehow be challenged by the enemy.
Still, there's the crossword puzzle, so we continue our Sunday home delivery of the Times. With a cursory glance at the front page propaganda that always elicits a wry grin at the blatantly slanted language chosen to downgrade everything pertaining to the current administration, meanwhile further demoralizing the country and keeping the Clinton fires burning, and caring not a whit that its collective words carry weight and maybe, just maybe, they could be used instead to convince our warring leaders in Washington to work together for the good of the country, not to mention the world and all mankind, I sadly chuck the rest of it into the recycling bin, sensing the tears of my parents falling down on me from Heaven. Or maybe those are my own.
Even though they had published some of my drawings, which definitely opened doors as far as getting more freelance work, I let my subscription to The New Yorker lapse. It had simply become unreadable, unless you lived on the Upper West Side and shopped at Zabar's and thought the Earth revolved on its axis around the Clintons, none of which I did. Still, I kept reading the Times, although it too was becoming an obvious organ of the DNC. Still, there was the Sunday Magazine with its holy crossword puzzle, and unless or until politics permeated that weekly brain exercise I was determined to remain a faithful supporter.
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| Is this any way to welcome a new administration? |
Over the years they have morphed into the National Enquirer and the National Enquirer on Steroids, required reading for all those Prius-driving, NPR-supporting, Planned Parenthood-loving, never-Trumpers chomping down bagels at Zabar's and all the Zabar clones in affluent cities on both coasts. Especially on Sundays when they preach to the choir of their readers who, like Narcissus, look lovingly at their own reflections and then settle down with the editorial pages to find out what they should think, who they should mock, and more importantly, what to respond in case, God forbid a million times, they were to somehow be challenged by the enemy.
Still, there's the crossword puzzle, so we continue our Sunday home delivery of the Times. With a cursory glance at the front page propaganda that always elicits a wry grin at the blatantly slanted language chosen to downgrade everything pertaining to the current administration, meanwhile further demoralizing the country and keeping the Clinton fires burning, and caring not a whit that its collective words carry weight and maybe, just maybe, they could be used instead to convince our warring leaders in Washington to work together for the good of the country, not to mention the world and all mankind, I sadly chuck the rest of it into the recycling bin, sensing the tears of my parents falling down on me from Heaven. Or maybe those are my own.
I don't like calling yourself or any of us Senior Citizens. There needs to be a better term. And the tears are yours plus those of your parents and also mine! I feels as though a week can not become a next week without reading the Sunday NYT plus (let me add)), the Wall Street Journal and by my sort of rule, we get a whole week to read it, so a Sunday paper needs to be done by the following Sat pm or next Sun early am. OK back to Senior Citizen - need a word or phrase that speaks to our knowledge, experiences and adventures, noches and tsuris (sp) and all we have read and all that we want to read, and so forth. A good word, a great word, multiple syllables, maybe with an ae or ??? I respectfully assign this important task to you.
ReplyDeleteI HATE the term Senior Citizens, but that's what they call us and face it, we aren't going to change it. I use the term rarely. As for taking the whole week to read the paper, I also did that once upon a time, but more and more I sense the business side of things more than the news side. For example, Arts & Leisure, formerly my favorite section, is now one gigantic ad for Broadway shows and movies. Ditto the Book Review, pushing the best sellers. I now limit my reading to the News and Opinion sections only, and find both the Times and the WSJournal pushing their own agendas exclusively. How is that possibly "news'?
DeleteI don't like calling yourself or any of us Senior Citizens. There needs to be a better term. And the tears are yours plus those of your parents and also mine! I feels as though a week can not become a next week without reading the Sunday NYT plus (let me add)), the Wall Street Journal and by my sort of rule, we get a whole week to read it, so a Sunday paper needs to be done by the following Sat pm or next Sun early am. OK back to Senior Citizen - need a word or phrase that speaks to our knowledge, experiences and adventures, noches and tsuris (sp) and all we have read and all that we want to read, and so forth. A good word, a great word, multiple syllables, maybe with an ae or ??? I respectfully assign this important task to you.
ReplyDelete