Ewing & Associates Sotheby\'s International Realty

Confessions of a Print-aholic

There is something about holding a paper

Even my little dog, Walter, prefers reading a book to reading online. He is shown hear at story time with a friend.

Even my little dog, Walter, prefers reading a book to reading online. He is shown hear at story time with a friend

By: Sher Hann

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It has been raining all day, and I am finally at home, sitting in front of the fire, a glass a wine in hand, reading, of all things, the newspaper.  Ink on the fingers, for many years a bane, is now a badge of honor.

I use a computer all day long: reading e-mail, check the MLS, surfing the net, visiting Facebook, reading the headlines on my Google homepage. And I’ll admit that many a morning begins still in bed, with a cup of coffee and my Blackberry in hand, as I scan CNN headlines on my phone. Yet, before I dash out, I am not happy if I cannot hold the Wall Street Journal and, at the very least, read the front-page capsules. A tech column Walter Mossberg, for example, would be a special treat, and I want to read about in the paper, not peruse the Wall Street Journal online.

There is something about holding a newspaper, book or magazine that a screen cannot satisfy. A screen does not bend to the touch. It doesn’t flutter closed as I jump up to pull my little dog, Walter, from the edge of the fire (where he looks like just another log on the hearth) and holding a laptop is not comfortable when I lounge on the sofa.  Not even a Nook can do this (although I do admire the Kate Spade Nook covers at Barnes & Noble).

Tomorrow I will most likely succumb to the urge to buy a book, I am sure. Two things drive me to read a book: bad weather or being sick. I will brave the rain to check into Barnes & Noble, where I will buy a cappuccino, peruse the latest mysteries and select some very cheap entertainment: a book, to be touched, read, savored and remembered in a way that instant articles never can be.  I will take my new book home, enjoy a warm fire, pluck little Walter from its edge, and read … and read … and read.

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