Wednesday, April 20, 2011

The Paper Route

By RODNEY D. BOAM
Citizen editor

Riding the bike on the paper route

I’ve been delivering papers for the mother ship (Herald Journal) even
before they became our mother ship. Some five years ago my son, Jon,
wanted to deliver papers to earn some spending money. It was about the
only thing he could do for a job as a nine year old.
I was with him every step of the way.
While some parents get their kid up early and kick him out to do it by
himself, for me it was a chance to work together doing something
meaningful. He got the money; I got close to my son. I was criticized by
some who thought he should be responsible enough to do it himself. He
bought all kinds of worthless stuff. His friends thought he was rich. He
had his own bank account and when he wanted money, instead of asking his
parents for money he just went to the bank and got what he wanted.
He got the money; I got the greater reward.
We found that when we used bicycles we could cut down the time by
covering more ground faster.
When Jon got into sports, he was less interested in working with his dad.
He became too old and sophisticated to go around the neighborhood early
in the morning dropping papers on the door steps with the old man.
I decided to keep doing it.
The old bike is pretty handy for throwing the news. For a guy who needs
to keep active, it’s a fairly good gig. During the summers I’m usually
out there about the same time as the neighborhood joggers. One thing
about paper boys is they are out there rain or shine, summer or winter;
it has to be done and done at an early hour.
If you know someone who is looking for motivation to get up early to jog
or exercise, get a paper route. You’re paid for the pain of getting up
every morning to exercise.
For the most part I get up at 4 a.m., shower, and get my lunch ready. The
papers are usually on the door step about 5 a.m. I fold them, get out the
door and try and make the bus stop. I can usually catch the bus at the
end of the road if all goes well.
It snowed recently and the old bike didn’t quite act the same on ice as
it does at other times.
It does fair on snow, but on ice, any lean to make a turn is one of those
magical moments, when life goes in slow motion. The bike goes down and it
kind of separates from the rider. The rider slowly slides down the
driveway on his back in sort of a halting motion, while the bike picks up
this cosmic energy and shoots out into the street.
The good thing about this kind of display of cosmic energy is it’s dark
and early enough, no one is awake to see such an embarrassing thing
happen. There is not enough light for even the best of video cameras to
record the incident.
I’m sure a trick like that would make the sweepstakes winner on any of
those submit your funniest video television shows.
Unlike a beetle on its back with its legs working to get it turned back
up so it can get going and live, when a big guy hits the pavement on his
back, he just lays there stunned at what just happened. About the time
you figure out you are no longer on your bike, but on your back, you
wonder if you are still alive; then you see if you can wiggle your toes.
As soon as the guy figures he is stilI in one piece, he is still alive
and there is nothing bruised or broken, it’s time to look around to see
if there was anyone within viewing distance that could have possibly seen
what just happened.
Then it’s off to the next house, glad for the cover of darkness.
I had two of these glorious experiences and still made my bus.

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