Read? Listen? Who has the time?
"TAMPA—Sitting in my motel room Thursday on the fringes of Tampa, maybe 20 miles and three weather systems away from the convention site, I am surrounded by enough newsprint to equip a Broadway revival of The Front Page. These are all the newspapers, glossy magazine convention specials and other journalistic handouts that I have meant to read since I arrived on Sunday. Later today, when I arrive at my convention workspace, I will also have my pick of all the major newspapers this side of Le Monde. And (sorry to end this paragraph on a downer) I undoubtedly will read none of them.
Relax. This isn’t another jeremiad about the death of newspapers. At my first convention as a fledgling reporter—Miami Beach in 1968—I was awed to discover that stacks of dailies like the Washington Evening Star and the Chicago Daily News were flown in each morning as a promotional gesture. And sadly I never got around to reading them either..."
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