
‘Cheerios & Town Papers’
Maybe I love Cheerios because I love watching what happens every time you’re down to the last dozen of ’em floating around on top of the milk.
They do the wildest thing. They all start gravitating toward each other, snuggling up—creating big group circles of ’em.
I still don’t know why that happens. But I love it every time.
Seems to me—towns are a lot like a bowl of Cheerios.
If you’re lucky, you’re in a town where there are magical things that somehow, some way, get all the Cheerios in town together.
A lot of towns don’t have these things.
In the Palisades, we do.
Our magical things are our amazing schools, and churches, and synagogues. And our bounty of clubs and organizations. Baseball, and bocce, and basketball at our park pull us together. And packed, happy town events.
And one more—that I never take for granted.
Our town paper.
Our fabulous, full-of-love town paper. The Palisadian-Post.
I’m sure you know that town papers, all around the country—are an endangered species. And good ones—they’re really rare.
For my money, we don’t have a good one. We have a great one.
Our town paper is the story of us.
In stories and pictures, it celebrates the best of our kids, of our families, of our seniors—cheering on those making a difference in the world.
In these divisive times, when all we hear and read about are folks so angry and behaving so badly, we yearn for a little “treat” that settles us.
Comforts us. Blankets us. Informs us. Inspires us.
And every time we read a story about a grammar school kid who’s doing something great, or a mom who’s taking a gutsy shot at starting a business, or a fantastic bagger in our grocery store—it bonds us.
It reminds us we belong to something. Something to cheer for.
Our home team.
And the sad thing about town papers around the country?
Once they go away—they don’t come back. Just like an endangered species.
You just hear they closed the presses one day. And, then, after a few months, it starts to sink in … the treasure a small town once had.
Lots of reasons they’re disappearing. At the top of the list is that stores and businesses are shifting ad budgets to Facebook, Instagram, places like that.
So what can we all do about it? Maybe tell some of our pals to get a subscription. Or whisper in the ear of friends who run a store or businesses in town to think about taking out another ad—if they’re on the fence.
This story made me hungry. I just made myself a lovely bowl of Cheerios.
I’m thinking about how just like picking a town, there are lots of choices in that big aisle of cereals.
Some aren’t good for you, some are just plain boring. But, for me, one feels just right.
Nothing like a bowl of Cheerios.
And I love who they remind me of just swimming around, having a great ol‘ time in that bowl.
You.
Jimmy Dunne is a modern-day Renaissance Man; a hit songwriter (28 million hit records), screenwriter/producer of hit television series, award-winning author, an entrepreneur—and a Palisadian “Citizen of the Year.” You can reach him at j@jimmydunne.com or jimmydunne.substack.com.
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