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July 13, 2020


I started my newspaper career in 1971 as a reporter for the Daily Local News in West Chester, Pa., where I learned pretty much everything I know about journalism, and wrote my first weekly humor columns. Today I was in West Chester and went to visit my old paper, only to discover that it has moved (the sign on the door didn't say where) and the once-spiffy building where I worked for five years is being consumed by plant life. Amid the greenery by the front entrance were a female deer and her two babies. Here I am with the mom. I'm like, "What are you doing here?" and she's like, "I live here. What are YOU doing here?"



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You could pack up the deer and fawns and take them to the new location.

What could go wrong?

Oh, deer!

I can't help but notice that neither you, or the deer, are wearing masks.

See the deer how big it's grown
But friend it hasn't been too long, it wasn't here

It's now a deer abbey.

Are you talking about flora and fawna?

Good to see that you're well, but the overiding questions are: (1) What day of the week is it where you are? (Month & year would also be beneficial) (2) Do you have any memory whatsoever as to how you got there? (3) Are you able to sit, comfortably?

Am I the only one who sees (on the right-side horizon) a saucer cleverly disguised as a water tower?


Their website gives the Daily Local News in West Chester, PA mailing address as:

390 Eagleview Blvd
Exton, PA 19341
Phone: (610) 696-1775
Newsroom: press 4

And one of their lead stories portends more bad news for you. The local brewfest has been downsized due to covid!!!


Oh the humanity!

Covid has been bad for local newspapers. A couple have folded around here. ( Get it... Newspapers... folded ? ) Hwah Hwah Hwah ( laughs like the penguin )

In the year 2525, if deer are still alive....

Not to be a wet blanket or anything, but when you get to the Statue of Liberty, you'll find it half-buried in sand. I know this is true because I saw it in Planet of the Apes.

It's tough to go home again. I grew up in northeastern PA. Lots of grass coming up between the cracks. Or as Jack London famously wrote, "You can't go to Nome again."

Well it was probably nice to get out for awhile to somewhere different.

I'm sorry they moved and didn't tell you, Dave.

It reminds me of an Emo Philips joke.

"When I was ten, my parents moved to Downers Grove."

"I found them when I was 12," says Philips

Tom Wolfe was correct...

A profound question from the deer.

Dave, what are you doing here?

Dave: "What are you doing here?"

Deer: "Just trying to make a buck!"

Dave: "Me too!"

@Mike Smith - Ha ha! That was clever.

A friend sent me a picture of a SQWALLET today. Apparently someone in California has found a use for squirrels. Plugged SQWALLET in the search and sure enough, there it was.

The building should become a historical landmark with Dave’s accomplishments listed.

Dave, lucky you. You returned in the nick of time: My first job was my senior year of high school, 1957 at a little radio station in Springfield, Missouri. KICK's transmitter couldn't reach beyond a 4 mile circle around town... which was a good thing because nobody lived more than 3 and a half miles around town.
We disk jockeys were Like Kings and our realm was populated by perky little blondes and brunettes, who played us like cheap violins against the football stars of their high schools (whom they really wanted). I was fortunate enough to parlay my experiences into a pretty good career in the broadcast industry... and recently, violated the old adage "you can't go home again". Unlike your vacant building, my tiny radio station sold off the transmitter, but kept the tower and trucked in a stainless steel brewery. Damn, where were they when we needed them.. The girls might still be around .. The "Lost Signal Brewing Company" probably clears more on a Friday night than KICK radio billed each month (and has a Hell of a lot more followers in my old College town). Economists refer to that as "Creative Destruction"... I see it as urban renewal, without deer and fawns, but a few feral cats who are a lot less friendly than your deer. Yep, you can go home again..-but don't expect the old landmarks.

How the mighty have fallen. Starts out in West Chester, and ends up
In Miami.

https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/12116942/bubonic-plague-warning-squirrel-tests-positive-humans/ Dave, for crissakes, wherever you go, what ever you do, just stay the hell out of Colorado.

R.I.P. Grant Imahara (Mythbuster)

There's a "they had no choice but to abandon the building" joke here somewhere.

How about:"Members of Dave's many fan clubs kept showing up demanding autographs leaving them no choice..."

I bet Dave still has his first paycheck from that job. Mostly because the day he tried to cash it, his bank ran out of change.

@Ralph: groans at "deer abbey"
@Clankie: more groan
@Mike Smith: >rimshot< and groan
@John Criswell: nice story

Doh! A deer.

Perhaps we should start captioning Dave's many anticipated pics as if they were Newspaper headlines? As in: "Florida Man Bites Newspaper"

" the once-spiffy building "

There sure are a lot of adjectives for snazzy.

Dave – Had you looked closer, you would have seen that the building wasn’t really vacant after all…
(cue Rod Serling narration)
“You’re looking at the headquarters of the Daily Local News, a once-thriving small town paper that served as the source of information for the fine folks of West Chester, PA.
(Panning through the office, light streaks across dust-covered desks)
"Interested readers could find news of the day, from light-hearted stories about Aunt Mae’s award-winning mincemeat pie recipe, to the tragedy of which boys wouldn’t be coming home from Vietnam. Yes, at one time, the newsroom was a beehive of activity. The clatter of typewriters competed with the din of ringing telephones, and the raised voices of reporters negotiating those telephones and typewriters, feverishly trying to turn today’s deadlines into tomorrow’s headlines.
“But those days have passed, and the drones have all left this hive. If you close your eyes, you can almost hear the faint echo of the keys hammering again.
(Scene goes to black as the sound of a single typewriter rises; the scene comes back into view, but is now black-and-white).
“Walking past the deserted desks, you come upon a solitary figure sitting at a desk behind an open door marked simply ‘Editor’.
(The smoke from his cigarette encircles a figure hunched over a keyboard)
“As he slowly, methodically picks away at the keys, trying to finish the task at hand, piles of crumpled paper surround him on the floor, as a testament to his failed attempts. This is Mr. Arthur Lebovitz, Editor-in-chief… member of the once proud Newspaper Industry…writing his final story…perhaps fittingly, an obituary...
in... ‘The Twilight Zone’.”
(Glancing over his shoulder, you see the title of his work: ‘Arthur Lebovitz’)
(cue Theme music: “do-do-doo-do, do-do-doo-do, do-do-doo-do…”)

That's fantastic!

It looks like Dave has somehow slipped back in time to 1971 where Dave accidentally steps on, squashes a butterfly. This seemingly insignificant actions alters the future.

Here is proof:

Boys dressing like girls,
Girls dressing like boys,
Marijuana is legal,
Trump is President.

Dave, carefully get back to the Way Back Machine and set the controls for 2020 without destroying anything else.

Stixnstonz, that's a great Twilight Zone script. Very appropriate as our man Dave is doing a remake of "Walking Distance" right as we speak.

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