Homage to Dick Feagler

"Did you hear Feagler's retiring?" asked Dan.

"Nah, the paper pulled his column," said Matt with certainty. "He's not relevant to these kids any more. Besides, who reads a newspaper anyway."

"Well I still read it," said Jeff. "At least the 'education' section. Stuff like box scores and high school football standings. And, ya know, it's a whole lot easier to hold a newspaper than the internet when you're sittin' on the throne."

"Unless you're usin' one of them Crackberries," said Dan.

The boys were assembled for the weekly gathering of old farts at the coffee shop, just like they had done for years.

Not some greasy spoon diner, though. This place was a real, honest-to-goodness coffee shop. A place that served good, strong coffee. Over on Superior a couple doors up from the T-shirt business. Locally owned, too, not some fancy-schmanzy foo-foo Seattle-based chain.

"I used to read the paper a lot too," mused Matt, "until they started dumbing it down for the lowest common denominator. I'm not gonna waste my time with it for some touchy-feely feature story plastered all over page one to appeal to the 'Dancing With the Stars' mentality."

"Or that PDQ crap," Jeff said with disdain as he swallowed a bite of his blueberry muffin.

"My mom used to read him," said Dan.

"Who?" blurted Matt and Jeff nearly simultaneously.

"Feagler!"

"Oh, yeah, we were talking about him," Jeff said.

"As a kid, our family took the Press, not the PD," Dan said. "Dad was a carpenter. Blue-collar guy. Liked the Press because it came out in the afternoon. Felt the news was newer than if he took a morning paper that sat around the house all day while he worked."

"Afternoon papers. You just don't see those any more," Matt said, taking a sip from his latte.

"Yeah, they're an anachronism these days," opined Jeff. "Hardly any left in this country."

"Anyway," said Dan, "I remember my mom talking about Feagler probably thirty, thirty-five years ago. She'd read his column all the time. Liked his take on the world. Usually she agreed with him, which is more than you can say about some of his readers.

"Like any kid, I worshipped my mom, so I started reading Feagler too. Then I moved away to college, got a job, started a family, moved around some more, and finally moved back to Cleveland. Lo and behold, what do I find? Feagler's still here!

"So I start reading him again," Dan continued. "Curmudgeonly old Feagler. Still taking shots at corrupt county officials. The Brownies. This town's inferiority complex."

"You know, he was on to more than his Aunt Ida and the gang at the coffee shop," Matt said. "He was one of the first guys to come out against the war, back when most people still thought Dubya and Dick and Rummy were on the right track. Mission accomplished. What bull!"

"Don't forget Obama, either," said Jeff. "Feagler saw the need for change and called it like he saw it. Boy, did the neocons jump all over him for that!"

"My mom's been gone thirteen years now, but if she was still here, she'd still like what he has to say," said Dan. "With him leavin' the paper, who's gonna write for us now?"

"Yeah, who's gonna write for us?"