It was in the paper

NO, I GET PAID TO DO THIS: Is there anybody alive out there? (This is Radio Nowhere ... )

LINKS: That thing I wrote about the one movie that everyone was talking about

So have you ever noticed about certain professions that the people who work in them don't always seem to be that engaged, when they're not at the office, by the thing that they do for a living? I'm not sure what this would be like outside of the journalism world. Maybe it would be like if I managed a Taco Bell and served burritos and chalupas and nachos to people all day long, but never ate any of that stuff myself, or even thought about it, really. Or let's imagine that I worked in a salon, doing hundreds of cuts and styles every week, but never paid attention to my own hair or beard beyond washing them. Maybe I'd even go to work with a paper bag over my head. Suppose that I got a job as librarian, checking books out to patrons, sorting books, shelving them, etc., but never actually read a book, or even used one to prop up the sofa with the missing leg.

The dirty little secret for at least some people who work in the newspaper industry is that we don't ever actually, you know, read the paper. I'm a little more active about flipping through the Web site. Mostly, though, I get my news by listening to the radio while I exercise, or hitting a few key stops around the Internet after hours. Maybe if I could put the Daily Herald on my Sansa and listen to someone read it aloud while I jog to the gym ... eh, even that might not cut it. To be honest, I don't even think about the newspaper all that much. (I do have a current subscription, but that's just so that my wife can get the coupons.) And I know that I'm not the only one because of a funny little thing that happens every so often at work.

Picture me sitting at my desk, minding my own business, maybe watching the new trailer for Captain Ameri — er, reviewing my interview notes for my next feature story. A co-worker comes up and lounges on the partition behind my iMac. We'll pretend her name is Janet. (Maybe we'll even pretend that Janet is a she. Don't you wish you knew?) Janet: "So, Cody, what did you think about The King's Speech?" Me: "It was great. Did you read my review?" Janet: "No. When did you review it?" Me: "It was in the paper. It was in January, when the movie came out. Do you read the paper, Janet?" (I was teasing when I said this — it's OK. Janet's a good sport. We can tease about stuff.) Janet: "So you liked it?" Me: "Yes, I liked it. Colin Firth is excellent. I put in my Top 10 Movies of the Year that I do every year in December. That was in the paper, too, Janet." Janet: "Well I don't read the paper."

And what can I say about that, really? I mean, I want you to read the newspaper. Of course I do. I guess if you don't, however, then we can still be friends. I mean, we probably won't hang out. Don't feel bad if I never show up for poker night. If you want to, though, you can ask me whether I liked that one movie. I promise not to snark at you. Mostly.