They’re growing like weeds on our sidewalks and roadways, these unsolicited advertising circulars stuffed into bread bags and masquerading as newspapers. I remember a time I was excited to see one appear on my driveway: It meant I was getting a sample edition of my local paper. Now, as with the rest of the weeds on my lawn, I’m desperately trying to stop them from spreading.
I understand advertisers subsidize the cost of the content I consume, making things like my morning reading ritual more affordable. However, there is no “content” in this latest plague of junk left on our doorsteps. It’s more like room service waking us up at the crack of dawn with a complimentary — yet unrequested — plate of bacon, lettuce, and tomato on rye. Except without the bacon. Or the tomato. Or the rye. When addressing complaints, they wonder why no one’s happy with all those free plates they’ve been delivering.