I have been in love with newspapers my whole life. For eight years, I shared my breakfast table with the New York Times. It's always been there, waiting on my driveway until I wake up enough to be able to absorb its thoughtful news stories, art reviews, opinions and, after a cup of coffee, its crossword puzzle. The other day, I divorced myself from the Times forever. And, I have to say, I'm glad it's over -- even though I admit I'll miss that old Grey Lady. The end of my ill-fated love affair with the Times started innocently enough earlier this month.
Since I love the Times so much, I decided I would share the joy of "all the news that's fit to print" with my parents. As a Christmas present, I ordered a subscription for my mother and father, who live in another city.
On December 1, I went online to the www.nytimes.com, gave them my credit card and entered my parents' address. There was nothing to indicate when the new subscription would start, so I told my mother to call me if she didn't get a paper by December 6. She received nothing, not even an e-mail confirming the order. (I had provided my mother's e-mail address and phone number as the primary contact.)
A little chagrined, I called the New York Times. The customer service clerk said the subscription was there but wasn't scheduled to start until December 10. I was a little surprised it would take nine days to start a new subscription, but so be it.