Warning: This is a mini rant. If you continue to read, consider yourself warned.
Back in my former life (when I was married) we subscribed to Time Magazine, which arrived every Wednesday. My husband had a meeting every Wednesday night, so I had the magazine all to myself. I'd fix a big salad for dinner, get out the magazine and read it from cover to cover. It took an entire evening to do that.
Then came the divorce. I've meant to subscribe, but never got around it it; until recently.
Several months ago, an adorable neighborhood urchin showed up selling magazine subscriptions. I took the opportunity to get back onto the Time Magazine bandwagon. The order form said I should start receiving the magazine in 6 weeks time; and sure enough a magazine arrived.
And, the first time Maxim arrived was when my son-in-law was visiting. I shudder to think what he thinks is going on in his mother-in-law's world.
I called and after a number of transfers, got ahold of someone who had to have been all of 15. She informed me that "yeah, we don't offer Time or Newsweek anymore, so we sent you Maxim."
They snail mailed me a list of magazines I could choose from; which I snail mailed back. Really, who snail mails anymore? Because I was so inconvenienced, they were going to offer me two magazines, and I chose some cycling magazine and a running magazine (my daughter, the one who does not read this blog, wanted me to get the running magazine).
I'm still getting Maxim even though numerous calls have been made.
However, while in the checkout lane at a local computer store, I got roped into trying Time for 8 weeks for free.
It arrived this week. No one told me that it's no longer Time Magazine, but is now Time Pamphlet. Seriously. What used to take me all evening to read can now be read during commercial breaks.
Too bad I don't read Maxim, because it's much thicker.
Apparently, that's how things are now days in the magazine business, heavy on the titillation; light on the news.