Euphoria

I had an early morning meeting today that went longer than expected, so I was late in getting to the newsstand to buy extra copies of today's historic papers for my kids. This is a family tradition. Somewhere in this mess, I have "MEN WALK ON MOON," bequeathed to me by my mother, the librarian. I have "YES!!!" from Oct. 28, 2004, the day the Red Sox reversed the curse. I have "US ATTACKED," from Sept. 12, 2001.  And I have papers from the days my children were born, momentous occasions, all.

So there I was, on a mad dash from store to store, desperately seeking copies of the Times ("OBAMA") and the Globe ("Historic victory"). After many failed attempts, I snagged the last copy of the Globe at a CVS, while the woman behind me grabbed the last Wall St. Journal. We both raced to a nearby Starbucks, where we were each able to pick up one copy of the Times, leaving the rack empty behind us. The young cashier found this quite amusing: "We never sell out of those,'' she said, looking at the dead trees in my hand as if they were foreign objects. And it dawned on me. This may be the last time I collect an actual newspaper, a tactile object that feels smooth to the touch and leaves an inky residue on your hands. Sigh. A PDF just won't feel the same.

We all know that print is dead, but it sure didn't feel like it today. Newspapers were a hot commodity. Yes, today's euphoria is tomorrow's ephemera. But on this one day, it sure felt good to hold a piece of my past and a piece of my children's future together in my hands. And it's a feeling I'd like to savor forever.