Actual newspapers are actually awesome

Like many millennials, I have witnessed the evisceration of newspapers.
I can remember when a paper would be waiting on our doorstep every morning after I woke up, wrapped in plastic to protect it from the elements. I remember shuffling through the voluminous Sunday edition in search of the comics, and how the number of pages would swell with ads every Christmas shopping season.
But one day newspapers stopped showing up at our house.
The internet was better at delivering the news, we were told. Instant access to breaking stories, no subscription costs, no wasted paper, no plastic to protect it from the weather. The internet fixed everything.
Then came the ads. Local newspapers started folding. The concept of "staying informed" was usurped by clickbait merchants, drug dealers offering an endless stream of dopamine hits in exchange for fractions of pennies in ad revenue.
A strange paradox emerged: we had more access to information than ever before, but were increasingly less informed.
When I heard about The County Highway a year or so ago, my reaction was one of predictable nostalgia. The masthead evoked a bygone era, one that I didn't realize I had missed until it stared me down. The paper's point of view, which I'll call "cultured small town" was unique, and seemed to complement the medium perfectly.
"But can I justify the price?" I asked myself. "Newspapers aren't supposed to cost that much." One afternoon the impulse won out, however, and I subscribed.
The first issue arrived, and it was like being reacquainted with an old friend. The newspaper, it turns out, is a wonderful medium. It pairs perfectly with a hot cup of coffee and a cold winter morning. It's an accessible salve for the struggling attention span that I've been working to strengthen. And it's fun.
A few stories have stood out: Jack Kerouac's final home, American Samoa, competitive lumberjacking, an over-the-top Christmas pageant in Texas. The arrival of each issue introduces me to a collection of new people, new places, and new ideas. None of which I intentionally subscribed to or "followed."
And that's what makes it so enjoyable.