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No longer were these called 'newspapers.' From here on out, they would be 'papes.'
As I walked across Granada Boulevard with my wife and three of our children, I was armed with a stack of newspapers to give away to festivalgoers Feb.1, at the Granada Grand Festival of the Arts. It was a big stack — so big that I started giving them to my children to help. It felt great to get them involved: We would do this together, delivering newspapers, the family business, a bunch of Newsies ready to —
“I’m not doing that,” my 15-year-old daughter, Ellie said, keeping her distance.
Kennedy, 10, took two copies but wasn’t too enthusiastic. “Does this mean I would have to talk to people?”
Luke, 6, took two copies as well, but they somehow ended up back on my stack a few seconds later.
“Wait, guys!” I said as they scattered. “We’re here to hand out newspapers!”
As I began asking people if they wanted a free copy of the Ormond Beach Observer, I was happy to find that most people said yes. A few stopped me and asked for one themselves. Some who declined said they had already picked up a copy elsewhere, or they prefer to read it online.
Still, I secretly felt a bit awkward, and I kind of wanted to stop. I realized I had a choice to make. I could find somewhere to set down the rest of the newspapers, about 10 more, and just walk away, assuming that people would pick them up without me. Or, I could go big, playing up the Newsies bit, even if it would embarrass my children.
Like any good dad, I chose the latter.
No longer were these called “newspapers.” From here on out, they would be “papes.”
I started holding up one pape a little higher. Rather than asking people if they wanted a copy, I led with the headline.
Raising my voice above the crowd noise, I went back in time 100 years and shouted, “Fluoride removed from Ormond water! Read all about it! Ormond takes fluoride out of its water supply! Extra!”
My children put their hands more deeply into their pockets so as not to appear recruitable.
One woman walking by said, “Can I have one of those? I’ve been wondering about the fluoride.”
As a matter of fact, all ye citizens of Ormond Beach, yes, you can have a copy. They were made just for you!
“Read all about it! Fluoride! Love it? Hate it? Read all about it!”
When the final copy was firmly in the loving hands of a reader, it was time to go home. Our work here was done. I had succeeded in playing Newsie, and my children had succeeded in pretending they didn’t know that loud guy on the corner.
