Sunday, February 6, 2011
If there's one thing I miss being abroad, it's the Sunday papers. As a teen, I used to get up before everyone else and devour The Observer colour supplement, review, sports, travel sections and those little Kaleidoscope catalogues selling executive toys, while listening to prog & krautrock in the dining room. This routine continued (without the prog) through the 80s and 90s until I moved abroad and that was that. Every summer I get re-acquainted and each time they get bigger & bigger, but not necessarily better. Free Prince album! Fantasy Football! 28 pages of Property! I pity the paperboys who have to deliver them. I did it for years and Sunday was always the worst. Dark winter mornings, haf a ton of paper strapped to my Chopper, a hundred houses, and all for 50p.