Rachel and I spotted this old newspaper box the other night while walking around the neighborhood. I knew I had to take a picture of it. Nowadays, seeing these boxes has become more rare. I mean, just look at how rusted and worn this box looks.
The Philadelphia Inquirer is Philly’s flagship newspaper, and one in which I read growing up and interned at a few times during college. I still subscribe to the Inquirer, but I don’t read the print version. Instead, I read the Inquirer.com, which has been much improved recently. I can’t remember the last time I regularly read a print newspaper – it may have been up to 10 years ago.
The days of print newspapers are dying fast, but we saw that coming. And many Americans loathe the media nowadays, especially after four years of Trump calling the press “the enemy of the people.” With Biden in office, maybe that’ll change, though I’m not sure.
Either way, I love seeing these old Inquirer boxes. I guess it’s a bit of nostalgia, but it reminds me of a time when we didn’t get our news from social media, when we weren’t constantly inundated with disaster reporting and yellow journalism and huge headlines barking about the end times.
You know, simpler times. But as I’ve written before, all nostalgia is a case of bad memory.