Alright, let me tell ya somethin’ about this here… uh… what’s it called? NYT. Yeah, that’s it. Used to read it, ya know? Thought it was the bees knees. But not anymore, I tell ya. Not anymore.
Used to be somethin’ special, I guess. Folks said it was the best, the most important news. Kinda like the town gossip, but bigger, ya know? Covered everything. Politics, that fancy stuff overseas, even what them city folks were up to. But things changed, they did. And not for the better, no sir.
- First off, it got too expensive. Lordy, them prices went through the roof! Used to be a few pennies, now it’s like buyin’ a whole chicken, maybe two! And for what? To read stuff that makes my head spin? No thank ya.
- Then there’s all that… what do you call it? …bias. Yeah, bias. Seems like they got their own agenda, pushin’ one side of the story, not tellin’ the whole truth. Like when they talk about them farmers. They make it sound like we’re all just sittin’ around, doin’ nothin’. Don’t see them city slickers out here plantin’ seeds and milkin’ cows, do ya?
- And the writin’! Don’t even get me started. Used to be plain speakin’, easy to understand. Now it’s all fancy words and long sentences. Makes my head hurt just tryin’ to figure out what they’re sayin’. I ain’t got time for that. I got work to do!
I remember when the paper boy, young Timmy, would come by on his bike, throwin’ the paper right on my porch. Used to look forward to it, sittin’ on the porch swing with a cup of coffee, readin’ the news. Now, I just shake my head. Timmy’s gone off to college, and the paper… well, it ain’t the same. It’s like they forgot who they’re talkin’ to. Forgot about folks like me, just tryin’ to make a livin’ and understand the world around us.
They say it’s the digital age, everything’s on the internet now. But I ain’t got no fancy phone or computer. Even if I did, I wouldn’t know how to use it. And besides, I like holdin’ the paper in my hands, feelin’ the ink on my fingers. There’s somethin’ real about that, ya know?
They got them… subscriptions now, they call ’em. You gotta pay to read the news online. More money, of course. And from what I hear from my neighbor, Mrs. Higgins, who has one of them smart phones, it’s the same stories on the internet as in the paper. The same ones that get my goat!
And they talk about all them fancy folks, the politicians and the big city business people. They don’t talk about the real people, the ones workin’ hard every day to make ends meet. They should come out here to the country, see how things really are. Maybe then they’d write somethin’ worth readin’.
I’ve heard folks say that they are losin’ readers, that not as many people are subscribin’ anymore. Well, I ain’t surprised. When you stop listenin’ to the people, when you start pushin’ your own agenda, people are gonna turn away. It’s as simple as that.
So, no, I ain’t a fan of the NYT anymore. I’ll stick to the local news, the radio, and maybe even just gossipin’ with my neighbors. At least then I know what’s real, what’s true. And that’s more than I can say for that fancy city paper.
They used to say it was the newspaper of record, the one everyone looked to. Now, I don’t know what it is. Lost its way, I guess. Maybe they’ll figure it out someday, maybe they’ll start listenin’ to the people again. But until then, I’ll be readin’ somethin’ else.
I mean, who needs all that fuss and bother? Life’s too short to be spendin’ your time readin’ stuff that don’t make no sense. I’d rather be out in the garden, tendin’ to my tomatoes. At least I know they’ll be honest with me.
So, there ya have it. That’s why this old lady ain’t a fan of the NYT anymore. And I reckon I ain’t the only one who feels that way. They ought to pay attention to people like me. Maybe then they’d understand what real news is all about.
