The Paper Chase

I flew to Europe many times, earning ”bonus” mileage.  I used mileage for tickets to bring Martha’s sons, Ric and Joe, from Chicago to Texas during spring break.  I do not know if the boys enjoyed spending a week with the old lady, but Martha was grateful that she did not have to worry about what the teenagers were doing while school was out and she was working.  

Another time I got tickets for Martha and me to fly to an Elderhostel in Pennsylvania.  We saw magnificent gardens at Longview and Winterthur, then – quite a contrast – visited an Amish farm.  When I arrived at the Philadelphia airport for my return flight, the airline offered me a $300 voucher to wait for a later flight.  Best deal I ever made.  I got to fly back to Dallas first class and used the $300 for a trip to Chicago.  A free trip on top of a free trip!  

Now that I am on dialysis every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I can not go anywhere.  It is a big event when someone – David, Martha, or Doug – drives me to Fort Worth or Decatur for a day out.     

Last year I received a notice from American Airlines that I had 10,000 “miles” that would expire on March 31.  Not enough to get a free airline ticket. I used the “mileage” for magazine subscriptions.  I already subscribed to TIME and the New Yorker, which come every week, and the monthly Smithsonian.  Now my mailbox is stuffed with a bunch of publications which I don’t have time to read. 

Next to the dining table is a stack of Harper’s which I have not opened.  The weekly copies of Baron’s go into the box of papers to be recycled.  Ditto Bloomberg Markets.

I transferred the Wall Street Journal subscription to my son Karl.  He has no money – he lives on S.S.I. and food stamps – but he considers himself an expert on everything.  I hope he enjoys reading the Journal and writing letters of complaint to the editor.  It is a family habit.

Then there is The Atlantic. 

I picked up the January-February issue, planning to skim through the pages.  Then I read a fascinating article, “What’s Inside America’s Banks?” – How Wall Street could blow up the economy again.  Then there was “Awake Under the Knife” focusing on anesthesia and the mystery of consciousness.  Finally, the one that haunts me, “The Real Cuban Missile Crisis.”

Do I really want to let my subscription to the Atlantic expire in March?  I have not decided.  Newsweek stopped its print edition; I used to read that during dialysis on Fridays.  The Atlantic comes only eight or ten times a year. . . . But sometimes I feel I am drowning in paper.

I should have time to read.  I will not be taking any trips.