Reading the paper. How long has it been since I’ve had the knowledge of the world stamped black at my fingertips? These moments  are far away from me. The newspaper itself seems lost in a dimension of another time. It’s a past that I never truly experienced.

We almost always had a computer around. When I was in the third grade we got an Apple IIE - I spent my time learning how to type, playing games, and I even learned a little Basic - the programming language. I was in awe of my skills - I could program the word “Hi” to flash indefinitely on the screen. Only I had the power to make it stop. I liked having that power.

From the moment that computer walked in the door, I was lost in that world. And yes, I was a budding writer even then. Though I was immersed in books, I never quite understood why everyone read the paper. It looked so blocky and cold and old. But I suppose in a world filled with Barbie dolls and computers there was hardly room for current events and obituaries. And now, I am told, the obituaries are one of the only reasons that people still subscribe.

Sometimes, I decide I want to believe in what the daily paper stands for. I think it’s the sense of community that intrigues me the most. I picture families sitting around taking turns reading the articles. They understand what’s going on in the world because the words make it so. The words speak to them. When asked who the Security of State is, they know because the paper told them so.

In our current system of flash and graphics it’s easy to believe that the information displayed on our computer screens is the best thing around. But amidst all of that, how many actually seek out information of world events? We want information in our faces 24/7 with our cell phones spewing text messages and internet updates, our email accounts jammed with useless information.

The words on the page are sometimes blurred and cheapened by this - lowered by a state of overabundance. I realize the irony in this as I type. I type, fingers pattering on the keys, with hardly a thought of the days of old when words were scratched with care with a quill on a piece of paper.

And yes,  I almost read the paper today. I came very close. Oh, I know about the World. I do listen to NPR and keep up with world events. It’s as much a part of my current reality as brushing my teeth. But at each turn, I somehow never got to reading it. I forgot to stop and buy a paper at the store. I couldn’t read the one at the cafe because some lady was using it to write on. And then I simply didn’t feel like reading it anymore once I finally arrived at the Library.

It was a lost moment. This day, the day that Barbie is now 50 years old (+ 1 day), I will always remember as the one where I almost bothered to read it. Almost.

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