I Miss My Old Media

I miss all the news that fit to print -- not all the news, and pseudo-news, and churnalism, and press releases published verbatim, and gossip, and updates to gossip, and galleries, and listicles  that drive  just one more page view.

I miss editors who say no.

I miss reading Playboy -- or anything -- for the articles.

I miss cutting things out to save them for later.

I miss ads that sell hard from a full spread and feel good about it;  ads that don't stalk you, and nag you, and creep you out.

I miss hearing from my friends once a year and spending all night catching up and telling them how much their kids have grown since I'd last seen them because the last I'd seen them was a year ago.

I miss organically yellowed pictures.

I miss the way old film cameras used to smell.

I miss having just one TV remote on my couch.

I miss turning the dial on my radio, and hearing crackling, and static, and then catching a faint song that sounds like it's played thousands of miles away because it is.

I miss songs on the radio being selected by someone but a playlist algorithm.

I miss knobs, and buttons, and dials, and switches.

I miss running to my mailbox and finding a handwritten letter.