Sometimes I see someone with an e-book reader on the train. It’s usually being held quite self-consciously by an early- to mid-30’s male with a satchel. The body language is mostly “I am the Masterchef of e-bookery” and a little “I am only holding the e-book so high because this angle is actually most comfortable for my arm. Honestly.”
[Update: I now own an e-book reader! See post “Here Kindle, Kindle, Kindle“]
It’s hard to read an e-book or any book, over someone else’s shoulder. When I lived in London I used to catch the Tube to work. It was definitely Not OK to read another passenger’s paper. Even if you were standing so close that you could hear the rustling of their nose hairs when they breathed, you Could Not read their paper. I wonder what special sense allows us to instantly feel when someone else’s eyes are wandering over our headlines?
I had a newspaper subscription for a year. It was made out of paper. Its physical presence would remind me to read it, and so I kept abreast of world events and local issues. Now the subscription has ended and I rely on the free newspaper websites.
I don’t read properly on the web. I also rarely watch news on TV – it clashes with the feeding/bathing/wrangling of kids. I think there are some important election issues being debated, but those headlines don’t have any of the words that my superficial website scanning eyes seize on. Phrases such as “millionaire’s wife; chocolate pudding recipe; bizarre sex; children’s health; striped t-shirts” will get me clicking every time.
Today I bought a newspaper.
Brought to you by the InterWeb – How to fold a broadsheet newspaper
On the Tube, I admired the way stripy-suited City workers could precisely crease their papers lengthways at the exact halfway point, thus creating a long thin train-friendly paper. See instructions on how to fold a broadsheet newspaper.
A life less digital 