Here we were, 4 in the morning, stumbling around the winter lawns of Hingham like three blind mice. That doesn’t sound stupid. That is stupid.
That said, all those hours in the car and furtive creeps up pitch-black driveways gave us perspective and appreciation, both for the people who deliver our newspaper and those who read it. Whatever they pay the delivery people, it’s not enough, and it’s more than a little depressing to think this debacle has been brought about by a desire to pay them even less. Whatever I’ve tipped delivery people in the past wasn’t enough.
And rather than be upset by all the complaints by longtime subscribers about abysmal service, it was actually heartening to realize how much so many people look forward to their Globe every morning. The least we owe them is getting the paper to them promptly. It’s on us. It’s all on us.
Look at that. If you’re doing something important, if you’re telling good stories, people want them. Print, online, skywriting, graffiti … if Serial was scrawled on the side of a building in one-sentence increments every day I’d go there and read it. There are still print ‘zines that thrive. Tell me a good story instead of boring on about what medium you need to tell it in.