Showing posts with label my father always made us sing the Beaver Fight Song. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my father always made us sing the Beaver Fight Song. Show all posts

Monday, April 20, 2009

Feeling the newspaper love

Whenever we were on the road as a family (which was a LOT in the summer), my dad always started off his morning with the local paper. It's a habit I acquired from him, especially when I pass through small towns.

My favorite small town paper is the The Beaver Press, which I always, always, ALWAYS buy on my way to St. George. I love getting updates on church ball games and the Senior Center menus (this week at the Milford Center you can get pork chops, creamy chicken with rice, and chili dogs--just not on the same day). I'm especially fond of the Beaver County Sheriff's Report that gives you the straightup 411 on criminal activity in the area--1 abandoned vehicle, 1 animal problem, 2 assualts, 1 burglary, 3 citizen disputes, 1 convulsions or seizures, 1 livestock problem, 2 unconscious persons, etc.

My favorite bit this week was a wedding announcement that concluded with the following sentence: "Please consider this your invitation."

I realize it sounds like I'm making fun of the paper. I'm not. Honestly, I love that there are still places in the this world where everybody knows everybody and that what happens there matters. A piece of me wishes I had a life in a place like that.