We’ve been getting magazines all our lives. Comic books first probably. Then Boys’ Life and sports magazines. My sisters got ones that they liked. Teen or fashion mags which I’d take a boyish interest in when they weren't home. In school you’d get magazines. My parents almost never watched television. There were too many magazines that came in the mail almost every day to get through. It picks up your day to find a favorite one in the mail box. Start looking at a good one and it’s hard to keep looking at the TV show that’s on. The one in the photo just came now. It takes precedence. 

Three Lives the Greenwich Village bookstore I go to is closed but some of the staff must be in there because they emailed to say they could send you books. So last week I emailed them my request and my credit card number and the book arrived the next day. Maybe an independent bookstore near you will do that. You could always have Three Lives send you one. It’s a good transaction. 

Binge-watching is the thing now. A guy my age remembers when everybody was reading the same book. Now people start their day with the television going and end their day with it too. It’s the elephant in the room. It’s the real addiction. It’s not iPhones. It’s not Instagram or Facebook or Internet porn. It’s television. Count the hours. That’s a lot of sitting. In front of a very big screen. Ray Bradbury saw it coming more than 50 years ago. 

Some weeks have now passed. I’m not out with the sign. I miss everything about that. When the scare first happened and we were told not to take the subway, I considered walking to Chambers Street even though it was really too far to walk. Then it all stopped. We’re all indoors. Bookstores are closed, libraries too. I have books on shelves and on tabletops and on the floor, so I’m OK. Magazines come in the mail. I gave my mailman $20 the other day just for coming every day when not much else does.