Sunday, February 19, 2006

I am a Member of an Elite Club...

... but don't worry, I will still talk to you.

It had been reported in this blog that my Valentine's Day present to myself was a box of the Godiva Platinum chocolates, but since I bought these chocolates with a gift card LittleBrother had given me for Christmas, I figured I had another indulgence coming.

I've known for a few weeks now that I've got to start reading the New York Times so that I can columns where I may be able to pitch my work and, oh yeah, keep up on world events and ... stuff. So I decided to make a new plan, to go out and buy the Sunday Times every weekend. I told G4 about this plan and he told me to subscribe; "If you have to buy it yourself every Sunday, you won't do it." I marveled at how well G4 had come to know me in such a short period of time, and since I can recall entire Sundays passing with me in my pajamas, I decided that he had a good idea.

So, on Valentine's Day, I pulled out the credit card and signed up for home delivery of the Saturday and Sunday New York Times. Saturday, as I was leaving my building, I tripped on something on the stoop. Oh, hey, a NYT in a blue wrapper. Then I wondered if this was my NYT. I looked for an adress label, but I saw none. I pulled out the paper and poked around- no marks denoting ownership. I figured it was probably mine, and if not, what's a pissed off neighbor the in anonymous New York apartment scene? I took the paper in and vowed to give it a good home.

When I left my apartment this morning, I found another one on the door step. Again, no address label. Well, it was probably mine and besides, the other little guy was getting lonely, it might be nice for him to have a brother. So I brought him inside and vowed to give him a good home. I was a little overwhelmed by the heft of the thing. Jesus, I had only managed to get through a third of yesterdays, and now here was a brand new paper. I suppose I could have stayed in to read it, but I had a full day of brunching and drinking ahead of me. Maybe the two papers are supposed to last me all week? I mean, hopefully there's nothing too dated or time sensitive in there.

Tonight, when I came home the papers were still there. I was kind of hoping that while I was out they had read themselves and placed themselves into my recycling bin. No such luck. When I checked my email, I had an email from the NYT. Hey, look at me, already I am somebody! It was an email thanking me for my subscription and inviting me to participate in a contest to win fabulous prizes, so of course I clicked through. I was taken to a sexy Flash site with music that helped me explore the paper and compete for a DVD player and other fabulous prizes. Wow, that was great. Thanks,Times.

But wait! Then I learned about that I can register my supscription and be a Times Select member. You know when you're poking around on back issues of the Times and they want to charge you to view the full text of the articles? Well, those rules no longer apply to me, baby! I can look at 100 articles from the archives a month, for free! Well, not free really, for the cost of my home delivery subscripton. Then I learned about the TimesPoints program, where I can earn "points" towards my subscription and other NYT merchandise just by purchasing the items I do anyway. Sign me up! I love points! I already earn Amazon points, Amtrak points, American Airline miles, money for my future children's college funds- at this point, I get a point every time I fart.

So far, this is really working out for me. I feel smarter just having the "paper of record" sitting on top of my commode. And, I was able to remark today, "Did you read that piece in the Times Magazine about the unreasonable amount of brand loyalty Cheerios enjoys?" Christ, that right there was worth the $2.40. And the newspaper is great. I might actually try reading it at some point. Damn, there's a lot of words. Am I supposed to read them all? That seems a rather impossible. What percentage should I be aiming for here? Anyone want to ballpark it for me?

1 comment:

MCMCMCLY said...

Maureen Dowd was on Meet the Press this morning. Is she suppossed to be some sort of New York sex symbol? Because I think she's prety frumpy. The woman just looks manic depressive to me.

Drew and I considered getting the Times for a sort while, but if you think the subscription rate is high in NYC, try getting all the news thats fit to print here in the middle west. Ouch!