We are apparently among the few who still get a newspaper delivered daily. It’s not all that great of a newspaper as newspapers go, but these are trying times for print journalism, and we can’t give it up anymore than we could give up our morning coffee.
While I don’t have firm numbers, I would guess the newspaper is soaking wet 20 percent of the time. Certainly, rain can be the culprit, even when the newspaper is bagged in plastic, but most of the time it’s due to our sprinklers watering the driveway.
Our front yard is maintained by the homeowner’s association, so for quite some time, years, really, we tolerated wet newspapers because it seemed like a better alternative than talking to someone at the homeowner’s association. My husband tried microwaving the newspaper to dry it, but that caused a fire in the microwave, so now he puts it in the oven at 350 degrees until it crisps up a bit.
After one too many wet newspapers, we said, enough is enough! I called the HOA and left a message because no one ever actually answers the phone over there. No one returned my call, but a few days later, there was a leave-behind stuffed under the door to let us know the sprinkler heads had been adjusted.
Not long after, there was another wet newspaper. This time I took a picture and printed it out. I circled the newspaper in red and wrote, “wet newspaper.” I also circled puddles of water at the bottom of the driveway. I wrote our name and address on the bottom and marched gently sauntered over to the HOA.
The outer door was open so you could get in the lobby area, but no one was home. There was a sign that they were out for some sort of something … team building? Maybe even the trust fall but probably not customer service. Anyway, we could leave paperwork in the basket. Which I did. And took some candy from the bowl, too.
I hear nothing, so several wet newspapers later, I went back to the HOA. They were home! I knew the person in charge was Cassandra or Lisbeth or some other sort of new-age name, but to me, she’s Oz. Instead, I got Becky or Cathy, the backbone of the organization, who listened to all my questions and then would go back and talk to Oz and then come back and tell me what Oz said, which was not much more than, “We’re working on it.”
At one point, I suggested they change the timers to water at midnight, so the whole show would be over by the time our newspaper was delivered. She said just a minute, went into the back and returned accompanied by the elusive Oz, whose manicure, by the way, was impeccable.
Oz said they can’t change the timers, but they will replace the sprinkler heads with a different type that should prevent this problem in the future. In fact, it was happening today! Such good news and what a coincidence.
I thanked her and explained that I know it’s probably not a common problem, as we are among the few who still get a newspaper. She said she understood, that she loves the smell of a fresh newspaper.
“I wouldn’t know. We have to bake ours, and the smell is quite unpleasant.”
Maybe it was something I said, but I don’t think they’ve been here yet. That’s OK. One way or another, this will get fixed. I’m retired. I have lots of time and lots of ideas.
I live in an apartment building just south of the Los Angeles Intl airport. The newspapers were delivered inside (to about 7 apts once upon a time). Then it got down to me. One of the tenants called the police one morning because he thought the delivery person had nefarious intentions. The police chased the person down and all was well but the agency said that they would only deliver it outside. (Understandable.)
This worked for awhile and then someone started stealing my two papers. The news agency reconnoitered the building and realized that my apt faces the alley – 1st floor with the floor level about 5 ft above the alley with a 6 ft stockade fence. So they called me and asked if they could toss the papers over the fence every morning. Yes, please. So – voila! – I open my balcony door and there are the papers. Always in plastic. Excellent customer service.
I like your story better — and presumably, you get the LA Times at the end! That’s a win-win.
GOOD LUCK!!!
Thanks, I will need it.
“And took some candy from the bowl, too.”
Ha — you noticed. I almost cleaned it out but figured there was some sort of cam in operation.
“I’m retired. I have lots of time and lots of ideas.”
I used to work for a pension company. My boss always said to be careful not to piss off people who’ve retired, because they have lots of time and their brains are available for sorting out their own lives now that they don’t have to wear them out on their employer’s business. It made me laugh at the time, but boy was she right. Go Donna!
Exactly!!!!!