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Old-fashioned news

I scrolled through the comment section of the online news story, my eyes darting through differing opinions until I landed on one that caught my attention. I felt my shoulders tense and my breath quicken as I read the fiery thoughts of a stranger.

Surely, there must be a better way to read the news?

I thought back to the ’90s. Every morning, my mother would open the front door to retrieve the Winnipeg Free Press. I would jump at the Arts section until I found the comics and giggle while I ate my cereal. My parents absorbed the news while getting ready for their day, and eventually the newspaper found its way to the top of the paper pile in the garage. The next morning, the cycle would repeat itself.

DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: I work in a high rise downtown and every day I come to work at the same time. I often ride the elevator up with this new guy working a few floors under me. I always feel a little disappointed when he has to get off, and I continue up into the sky.

I’ve worked my way up to speaking pleasantries about the weather, and he responds with cute remarks about the clouds. The good news? He’s not wearing a ring. I also found out his first name from hearing other people say hello to him. Now what?

— Feeling Frustrated! Downtown

Dear Frustrated: Next time you’re on the elevator ride together, say “Hi! My name is such-and-such and I work at such-and-such. Where do you work up here in the clouds?” That should make him smile and break the ice. Then you could consider asking if he might like to join you for a coffee on a work break, if you can co-ordinate it.

DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: On our last day at a beach rental cabin the kids and I were packing up later than the rules asked for, when a familiar car pulled in next door. It was my ex-husband with his new woman and her kids.

My children yelled out, “Look Mom, it’s Daddy! He came to the lake to see us!” and ran over to him for hugs. His girlfriend had the cabin keys dangling, nodded at me, and went inside quickly.

I said to my former husband, “Fancy meeting you here! Come on kids, we’re going home now.” My ex said, “Oh, settle down. Give me a few minutes with my kids, will you?”

So, I finished packing and locked the cabin door, and waited for the kids for 30 minutes in our car. Then I started to cry. It just came gushing out and I couldn’t control it. Finally, my ex brought the children back out. He could see I’d been crying and said in disgust, “Get over it, princess. I have!”