I got up this morning (some people didn't you know) to find my Sunday paper in the gutter. Not on the driveway where one might expect it to be and heaven forbid that it'd be on the front porch where it would be easy to get to. No, I suppose those days are long gone.
If your over the age of thirty you may remember when the news paper was delivered by a neighborhood kid on his bicycle. Yeah, they actually used to ride their bikes back then. No I'm serious, real bikes, not computer simulated ones played on PlayStation or Xbox. Anyway, as I recall these kids would make an effort to get your paper to a spot where you might actually find it. Of course if you were one of those grumpy old farts that would dodge them on collection day or conveniently forget to leave a tip in the envelope then all bets were off. You'd have a better chance of finding an Easter egg in a tall field of grass with a blindfold on.
Yes, this is when their pitching practice would really shine. Somehow they knew the pattern of a sprinkler system without ever actually seeing it in action. Armed with this God given talent they were then able to loft this three pound piece of news print high into the air, arching it over any obstacle, so that it would land in precisely the right spot. This would be where the sprinkler head would pop-up and catch the edge of the plastic bag with its spray of water, thereby soaking the entire contents into an unidentifiable homogeneous paste. Yes, the very same bag that was supposed to protect it form the imminent rainfall (that of course never came unless the paper was delivered without this little "raincoat") was now its new burial chamber.
Ah.......... those were the days.
So, if you're fortunate enough to still live in one of those rural areas where a kid fires up his Schwinn each morning to bring you the paper; please remember him on collection day, because he will surely remember you all the other days.