Not only did I start a new job today as copy editor for a national newspaper chain (that's right Canada: I M IN UR PAYPUR EDITIN UR NOOZE) but my son, 12, greeted me when I came home with the news that he is going into the family business. He is getting a paper route.
And yes, he knows about my internet handle. He also knows my professional history, from delivering the Sault Star as a boy to writing the high school pages and then covering Rotary Club meetings when I was 16 in Hamilton, the grind on the weeklies in across Southern Ontario (Ingersoll, Caledonia, Port Dover, Listowel, Napanee, Picton and Stoney Creek) and the big money jobs for great metropolitan newspapers in Tokyo and elsewhere.
This makes him the fourth generation of our clan to bring you your daily newspaper. My grandfather briefly drove a newspaper delivery truck and my father was a paperboy for several years.
As the blues song says "They call me the paperboy, because I can deliver"
That song hasn't been recorded yet, so enjoy this song, by another Paperboy:
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