NEVER IN ISRAEL?
If you were to board the #174 bus with me going into Jerusalem on any given day, you’d notice that, while most of the passengers are engrossed in staring at the tiny screens on their phones, you’d most likely see me clutching a primitive device called a newspaper, a life-long reading habit that I acquired from my father, of blessed memory. On different days of the week, he would come home from work with one of the New York City newspapers: The World-Telegram & Sun, The Journal-American, or the Sunday edition of the Daily News, whose comics I’d devour from Dick Tracy (on the front) to Gasoline Alley (on the back). One of my teachers (I believe it was in the 8th grade) introduced me to The New York Times, and that became my newspaper of choice, which I started buying on my way to high school. Most of these newspapers have gone the way of the dodo bird, but old habits die hard. Continue reading