Depressing

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A couple of days ago we went to something called the Tall Ships Festival in nearby Dana Point.

It was pretty cool. Lots of (gasp!) tall ships, mainly of the pirate variety. There was food and lemonade and science exhibits and …

… the table pictured above.

Sigh.

Damn, it was depressing. The person sat there and sat there and sat there, poorly located in the rear of a parking lot, trying to do the impossible—peddle print subscriptions of the Orange County Register. When I write, “Nobody was stopping by,” I mean—very literally—nobody. Not adults. Not kids. Not people intrigued by the sad and pathetic offer of a free Angels shirt with your paid subscription.

Not. One. Soul.

There’s a reason for this, and while I hate to admit it, well, it’s been true a long time: Print newspapers are CDs. Yeah, they exist, and loyalists remain. But they’re increasing in age, dying off, drifting far, far, far away. I love print. I was raised on print.

But either someone at the Orange County Register is hopelessly optimistic, or he simply didn’t get the memo.

It’s over.

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