As a teenager growing up in both New York City and in upstate New York, I had several menial jobs including delivering my hometown newspaper - The Amsterdam Evening Recorder.
Before starting out my door-to-door, porch-to-porch delivery route, I would sit on a curb near a stack of 80 or so freshly printed, twine-bound newspapers that were dropped-off by a truck and start to devour a PB&J on Wonder Bread sandwich.
I’d start with the funnies, followed by the sport section and then the concise police blotter. Next, I would wash down my late afternoon snack with a pint-sized carton of milk and conclude my journey through current affairs by visiting the weather, obits, business pages and last but not least, the front page.