Pouring rain now as I set ready for bed. Up early, you know. Papers never sell themselves, my old boss Pete McDaniel would always say. Coffee timer is set to go tomorrow at 4:30. That's not always true. Selling a newspaper is easy. Getting someone to pay for it is the hard part. Was stiffed more than once, across the demographic range. Black, white, rich, poor. Whatever bias you've got, stick it back where you picked it from. Your people, your kind walked off with a paper without paying too. When Wally died two weeks ago , I sold a few more. Was tipped a bit better too. Maybe they remembered that this news shtick is a full-bodied thing, that there's a team of people hawking the paper. Not just the guy on a milk crate. There's the writer, the editors, the headline guy, the engineer, audio, video, the talent, the columnist. Wally was a radio guy, but directly connected to the print world. If he said anything interesting, I sold more papers. Simple as that. The News Moses ...