The need to explain a newspaper.

Saturday is errand day. I was grabbing a quick lunch at a bagel place in Santa Clara, reading today’s paper of which I still get the dead tree version each day. A boy walks up to my table, perhaps five years old, curiously tucks at the paper, and asks what it is.

Evidently, he hasn’t ever seen a printed newspaper before.

Strange future we live in, said the old man.

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