That’s how much extra money I’ll keep in my wallet every week now!
Because the Soap Opera Digest I bought on Friday is the last one I’m buying indefinitely.
That could buy me any number of things.
- The extra-extra large sized mocha coffees I’m addicted to (hello, Starbucks and Caribou Coffee!)
- Most of a $5 footlong at Subway
- A greeting card to send to my boyfriend
- A short cab ride in Chicago
- A bowl of chili at my favorite food cart
- A round trip adventure on the Chicago Transit Authority’s fine trains
That’s $208 a year I’ll save! Hell, that’s definitely a down payment on the new Mac that I must have covet want.
Seriously? I’ve been buying SOD since 1986 and SOW (or, as it’s also been called, SPW – because who wants to be referred to as a SOW?) since 1989. No one wants them to succeed more than me.
But I took a vacation from Digest in the mid-to-late 1990s when every cover was Drake Hogestyn and Deidre Hall (quelle irony!) and became Days of Our Lives Digest. When the magazine returns to at least a slightly more balanced sense of coverage, and shies away from being Victor Newman Digest*, then I’ll welcome it back to my coffee table.
*It’s been said before but bears repeating – this is not a rant at the fine work of Eric Braeden. This is not about him at all. It’s about magazines doing really stupid things when their circulation is already disappearing faster than Sarah Palin’s borrowed wardrobe.