Table of Contents

    Musing: Education of a Paperboy

    In the morning quiet before others are up in our house, I sip my coffee and read newspapers. The habit started decades ago as a kid eager to read the comics (I still do that!).

    Back in those older days, though, the newspaper meant a physical paper, not an electronic version on the iPad like I read today. No longer do I have to worry about drying a rain-soaked newspaper in the oven without catching it on fire, someone clipping an article on the opposite side of the page from my favorite comic, or even getting ink on my fingers. As long as I have an internet connection, I can download and savor my paper.

    Unfortunately, that also means few people get to experience the first job I ever held, the job that taught me all the fundamentals of running a business—paperboy.

    In today’s parlance, of course, the job title would be carrier and mostly applies to adults using automobiles. Back in the 1970s, though, kids fanned out before or after school, on foot or bicycle, to bring the news to houses and apartments.

    In my case, it was the Gastonia Gazette—today called the Gaston Gazette, a two-letter reduction, probably instituted as a cost-cutting move to save ink. Seven days a week—Monday through Friday afternoons and Saturday and Sunday mornings— I delivered to 150 customers spread over two apartment complexes and one neighborhood of houses.

    A recent editorial in the Wall Street Journal paid homage to paper carriers and reminded me of how much I learned in the years I held that job.

    I was, like most carriers, a contractor, not an employee. There was no hourly pay, no overtime, and no extra money for working on a holiday. If I was sick or wanted to take a vacation, I had to find someone else to cover the route and pay them out of my pocket—though I might have unsuccessfully tried to apply the lesson I learned from Tom Sawyer whitewashing a fence. My friends, sadly, had read the same book and demanded upfront payment.

    My earnings were based on a simple formula—the amount of money I collected from customers less what it cost me to buy the newspapers, supplies, and any other expenses. If my bicycle needed repairs, the cost came out of my pocket. Same if a newspaper was lost, stolen, wet, torn, or had to be replaced for any other reason. I became very focused on controlling those costs because they were my costs, not some employer.

    And the collections’ side? I learned quickly that some adults would lie through their teeth to a kid to avoid paying the few bucks of a subscription. No matter how many times I had to knock on someone’s door or how long it took to collect, I didn’t get any extra money for that effort. If I cut my losses with a non-paying customer and terminated their account, I still had to pay for the papers already delivered.

    And, yes, I dealt with customer complaints. The one that sticks in my mind some 45 years later happened on a snowy Sunday morning. A surprise six or seven inches of fresh powder fell as I was delivering my route. The roads and sidewalks became too slick to ride my bike, so I ended up on foot pushing it through the drifts, a painfully slow process. As I neared the end of a very long morning, exhausted, hungry, and cold, a man charged out of his apartment and yelled that I was late. How dare I?

    But if that all sounds terrible, don’t let me lead you astray. For every negative event like that, I remember a dozen good ones. As that irate man berated me on that frigid morning, his next-door neighbor stepped outside and thanked me profusely for getting the paper to him in such terrible conditions. As I collected money each month, I received offers of fresh cookies or snacks from regular customers, not to mention benefitting from the numerous very good tippers along the route.

    I recall admiring dozens of glorious sunrises as I pedaled my way to the rhythmic thump of newspapers tossed with skill onto driveways and porches. I learned where to watch for wildlife tucked away in the corners of the neighborhoods. My life-long appreciation of nature grew in those solitary mornings.

    Later, in college, I supplemented the pay I received from my myriad of part-time jobs with savings from those newspaper days. Those earnings paid for textbooks and more than a few meals (and maybe a beer or two).

    Of course, I carried the lessons learned into a business career. And, in fact, into my present career as a writer (back to working for myself where my earnings are only whatever is left over after paying all the expenses).

    So it saddens me that few teenagers today will have the chance to be a newspaper carrier. It’s one of those foundational experiences that make me who I am.

    Enjoyed the Story? Try a Short Story

    Secrets, passions, and a reunion that changes everything

    Benjamin Walsh sees his wife, Nicole, walking down a city street. With her busy schedule at work, he doesn’t know how she found time to get away, but tries to catch up to say hello.

    To his surprise, she greets an old friend of hers, Eduardo Rivera. Eduardo left town two decades earlier to pursue a theatrical career in New York. What is he doing back?

    Benjamin is shocked when Eduardo and Nicole embrace. They disappear through a door together. With understanding of what is happening, Benjamin realizes he has only one choice.

    Publication Date: February 6, 2024

    Format: E-book (EPUB, MOBI, PDF)

    Pages: 38

    Price: Pay what you want (Minimum 99¢ to cover processing costs)

    On the Website This Week

    Books Read: J.T. Ellison’s It’s One of Us

    Gratuitous Dog Photo: Bro Hug

    bro hug - education of a paperboy
    Bestest Buddies Ever

    The bestest buddies ever, Roscoe and Typhoon, wrestle and play endlessly. Their grappling ended in a bro hug with neither willing to give the other the advantage in the game of the day.

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      Until Next Monday

      May you remember those foundational experiences with fondness.

      If you have questions or thoughts, drop them in the comments below.

      See you next Monday.

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      1. Cynthia Poe Evans on May 15, 2023 at 7:19 am

        This story of your paper boy delivery was enjoyable. And to hear your perspective and how you learned about business and life was cool too. Alas, this once-vital role has been nearly eliminated by technology. Thank you for sharing.

        Are your dogs rescue ones? I would like to know the story about them.

        Thank you and have a golden week! I always enjoy your Monday Musings!

      2. JEAN BURKHARDT on May 15, 2023 at 7:31 am

        My brother delivered newspapers back in the 1960’s. I too was amazed(and sometimes sad)when he would tell me stories of the customers who wouldn’t pay their bills for their papers. All in all though I think he met some wonderful people on his route and learned great lessons too. I also think it’s too bad kids don’t have that opportunity today!

        GOTTA love those 2 Roscoe and Typhoon!!!!

      3. Patty Markiewicz on May 15, 2023 at 1:27 pm

        You obviously have some fond memories of your time as a paper carrier. I hear it in your voice. The sunrises, the wildlife and the good people. Not to mention the fundamentals of business. Sounds like it was such a positive experience. And to still be able to utilize it today, just makes it all the better. 🙂

      4. Fay Bach on May 15, 2023 at 2:43 pm

        Today the” Paper Boy” is almost obsolete! So sad.
        Not as many people want or need a paper! They have the internet! I’m sorry, we still enjoy waking up with a coffee &the paper! Don’t know who’s delivering it
        now, but our original paper boy ‘s route was taken over by his Mom, but , alas , proved to be too much, but she did it for some time. So I thank all the people,
        Boys, etc. that have delivered our paper thru the years!

      5. Don Baker on May 15, 2023 at 5:53 pm

        I grad school in the 60s my then wife and I had a newspaper motor route. I soon learned when collecting, people found it harder to make excuses to her than to me. Part of the route was a trailer park and one morning we arrived at one address only to find a bare concrete pad. He absconded leaving us with an unpaid account. We inquired at the office. They said, oh, he goes to Florida every year. He’ll be back in the spring.

      6. Kathye Shuman on May 21, 2023 at 8:08 am

        “Way back” in the early 2000’s my kids had a paper route through the Mountaineer in Waynesville. While motor routes were the norm, my kids walked up and down Main Street delivering to all the businesses 3 days a week. Doing the “paper route” was part of our homeschool curriculum. By that time, they didn’t have to deal with collections because everything was paid through the newspaper office and they would receive a “paycheck” each month of (which was still the same idea: subscriptions collected minus the cost of the papers and other supplies). They also had a few newspaper boxes that they would fill and then collect all the quarters. It didn’t take them long to figure out that a lot of people put in money for one paper and took more than one! The shop owners were sad to see them go when they graduated and headed to college (with a nice bit of savings!)

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