There’s been much debate about the slow death of newspapers, the nails of the coffin coming from the easy access to information via the internet. Many newspapers made the leap and here’s a case in point.

This morning’s San Francisco Chronicle on Kindle contained 185 articles, with thirty in the Sporting Green alone. It’s a rare day when there are less than fifty articles in the daily edition.

The subscription through Amazon is $5.00 a month.

There are no advertisements at all, though I suspect that will end someday.

A hardcopy daily edition outside of the Bay Area is $1 except for Sunday ($2.50, I think).

Newspapers that do not adjust their business models to this electronic reality should go out of business because the refusal to use available technology means they are reporting yesterday’s old news and that is a failure of their fundamental mission.

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When this blog falls towards the wayside, its neglect is not from lack of interest but more a misdirection of interest. Such is the case now.

In October and November, foreclosure notices were taped to the front door of our rental. Considering the times, we perhaps should not have been surprised but we were. The landlord had stopped paying the mortgage and the bank exercised what they considered prudent fiscal policy: they wanted their money or the property. Who can blame them? We were in no danger of being thrown into the streets immediately, as prudent and admirable research by our daughters proved that we had rights as loyal tenants. We would have to leave, yes, but time was on our side.

Our landlord offered to work out a deal so we could buy the place but the 1950s-era house had seen far better days and would, in our opinion as longtime residents, become a money pit. We moved out at the end of November.

[A quick divergence here to thank everyone who helped out. You did a magnificent job and we are beyond grateful.]

Next on the calendar were the holidays and unpacking, simultaneous events that are not recommended for the faint of heart. Two months later, we are starting to feel at home.

Along the way, I began fulfilling a promise to myself to work on my grandmother’s photographs. Regrettably, they have not been stored in ideal locations but many survived the rigors of time. My plan is to eventually copy them to CD for all interested parties and then, sadly, find a final resting place for them.

That moment will be hard because the pictures were people who touched and loved me and my family across the decades. As I scan the pictures sequentially in time, I watch my grandparents grow older together (but never old to me), their children learn to walk, my parents hold me, and my grandfather kiss my mother for what may have been the last time in his life. It’s impossible not to feel something.

But that is life. It moves on. As each day goes by, I am becoming the older people in the pictures, but in my own way as each journey is unique. At this point in time, I do not know how many pages are left in My Book of Life but like my ancestors, I will try to fill those pages with good times, good people, exciting adventures and memorable experiences that will keep me company as I get closer to the last chapter, whenever that is.

My mother and grandfather in 1940.

American on Purpose by Craig Ferguson


My rating: 5 of 5 stars
A tad nervous about giving this five stars, especially since I closed the cover a few seconds ago but to quote one of his countrymen: “It doesn’t suck” (Dudley Moore). Mr. Ferguson of The Late Late Show takes his readers through his rough-tumble upbringing known as the Scottish public education system up through his battles with alcohol and drugs, the latter nearly consuming him and burying him six feet deep. He speaks of his failed relationships and career disasters with honesty and humor. In doing so, he repeatedly does one thing that I admire and don’t see enough of: takes responsibility for his actions and mistakes. He never gives up, though, because he knows that “the road to success must pass through failure.” He also does something I respect: he’s proud to be a citizen and doesn’t treat ‘patriotism’ as a dirty word. OK, I’m not nervous about giving him five stars. Thanks, Craig.

View all my reviews >>

This is not one of those “I’ve been too busy with real life to write about my fake life” blog entries (though the fake life would be more interesting). This is more of a “I can’t believe this is the first post of the year” type thing. Let’s get to work:

First off, mind-boggling tragedy in Haiti as evidenced by the mainstream media and these pictures. Go to redcross.org and donate right now. (By the way, I recommend thinking twice about helping through Wyclef Jean’s charitable foundation.)

The grandparents of Pat Robertson and Rush Limbaugh would be ashamed of them.

The pundits are all over the map on Mark McGwire’s confession. For what it’s worth, I think Mark is a decent human being who made bad choices and found himself way over his head (have you ever testified in front of Congress?). He strikes me as someone who will follow the advice of people he knows and respects without thinking things all the way through to their conclusion, and I’m willing to bet dinner that Tony LaRussa sat him down sometime recently and had a “father-son” talk. Finally, I believe McGwire’s Hall of Fame candidacy was the farthest thing from his mind and he personally doubts he’ll ever get in. When it’s all said and done, I’m glad that on the day of his confessions that he reached out to the Maris family. All things aside, that took balls and speaks to his character as a person.

Sammy and Barry: Confession has an atomic half-life of a soap bubble. Jump on this bandwagon now.

And congrats to Andre Dawson for getting in the Baseball Hall of Fame. Hawk, I hope you wear a Cubs cap but the Expos were pretty cool, too. Either way, it was overdue and well deserved.

Nevada’s budget crisis is worse than you know, trust me. Politicians and candidates across the state are lining up to take whacks at low-hanging pinatas labeled “social programs”, including the primary health care provider to the impoverished children and adults. Speaking as a private citizen, this is an incredibly complex issue and there’s a rare chance it could be the opening salvo at programs once considered sacred cows. What’s next on the chopping block? Child protective services? Elderly advocates? Services for mental retardation and developmentally impaired citizens? Does Nevada so desperately want to balance the state budget at the cost of its soul and for the honor of becoming a third-world state in the greatest country in the history of history? Personally, I think this is all political smoke and noise but, oh, the humanity.

Speaking of budget things, the health care reform bill should become law if for only one reason: better fiscal management of medical services provided through a hospital’s emergency department. Big bucks there, folks. Do you think the hospitals are *really* losing money there? Think it through.

And speaking of politics, a lot of hubbub over Harry Reid’s remarks last year about candidate Obama. Bottom line: probably didn’t change the mind of a single Nevadan voter. We all made our minds up about Harry long ago, one way or the other.

As for Nevada’s other senator, I get the sense that John Ensign the politician will revert to John Ensign the veterinarian in his next election. You can screw up when talking about the President, but you can’t screw an employee and get Dad the Casino Mogul to pay off the hubby for (failed) silence. There’s some things you can’t do, even in Vegas.

Was stopped at an intersection and took a straw poll to see how many people were talking on cell phones while driving. Results: about one out of ten. Is this problem worse than drunk driving or is it yet another instance of the popular media selling fear?

A certain family member wants a weight update here. Can I take the Fifth?

Seven weeks from today, The Bride and I will be watching Spring Training in Arizona with some of the greatest people in the world. Maybe I’ll post again before then. In the meantime, keep reaching for those stars, folks.