All week I work either in front of a computer screen or in collaboration
with people who either want something from me and my team or who need to be
told and cajoled to follow required corporate practices.
I know technology. My house has Wi-Fi and broadband. We have cable and Roku.
We have smartphones and Facebook accounts and then there is Flickr and
blogging. We're solidly in the technical age.
But we LIVE in New Orleans, in a city that has always been so far behind
it's ahead. We, New Orleanians, relish the simple pleasures: A good cup of coffee
or a Sazerac on our patios and porches. The sounds of the calliope or the
whistles of trains. We compare the song cycle offerings of our neighborhood
mockingbirds. (Ours does Blue Jays, Cardinals, Thrushes, 1 house alarm and 3
different car alarms and the beep-beep associated with locking and unlocking
cars and every once in a while lets loose with a unique only in NorthWest Carrollton
repartee. But I digress.) We talk about what's growing in our gardens and share
plants and seeds and the bounty. We wander to the Art Market and Hollygrove
Market & Farm for local offerings of Art and Food. We have a bowling alley
that offers live music for crying out loud.
I know how to get to news using technology. But as a New Orleanian I don't
want that to be the primary way I get my daily news. At the end of a work day I
want to settle into the my patio or couch with a Sazerac or a glass of ice
tea and flip the tangible, not virtual, pages of my daily city newspaper. I
want to take a look at the silly horoscope and see how many stars the day I
just lived had and reconcile that with what actually happened. If it's Friday I
want to see what the Lagniappe says is happening in town so I can plan just how
ambitious I'll be in taking part in the many festivities or where I can go to
avoid them. Or on a weekend I want to spread the paper on the dining room table
and wander from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and imbibe slowly but steadily
though all the sections. I may do left over dishes in between a section or
start a load of laundry or decide to water plants on the patio. But what is
lovely and unique about this newsprint newspaper experience is that I while I
can take my time and wander from thing to thing, I know when I'm done with all
the sections so I feel sated and complete.
With a 75% penetration rate (am I the only one who thinks that's a awful way
to talk about the people who pay for the privilege to read the paper?) I'm
obviously not alone.
This forced move to digital is not the reason why the TP has so many
(compared to other markets) faithful subscribers. What we are paying for is the
simple pleasure of unplugging to get our news, to take it slow, to be
contemplative, to see a well written story by someone who lives in and knows
our city that we might not see or even want to experience if we were to limit
ourselves to what we know and like online.
This forced move is all about profits for out of town owners who are greedy
and out of touch with the people they serve and on whom their longer term
success is dependent. New Orleans knows something about how to be unique and
successful. It seems this is something that the Newhouse folks seem to be
completely unable to grasp. So instead they are leaping over the digital cliff,
leaving behind the town and the advertisers that are willing ready and able to
continue to pay the bill for the simple pleasure of reading news in newsprint
form.