On a trip home to Milwaukee for Thanksgiving, every exit to my childhood home was under construction.
"Drive down the road," my dad said when I asked for alternate routes, "and come back."
Whenever I'm home, I'm always in awe of the transformation of the city. New buildings, new roads, new stores. The bowling alley that was our hub in high school on Friday nights is a strip mall now. The big mall is a modern shopping hub with upscale stores.
I tried to show my daughters where I took driver's ed in high school, but the building is gone.
That nostalgia about my hometown is magnified because I followed the local news when I was a kid and paid attention to what the city was then, so I can appreciate now what it has become. I read through the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel on the weekends and watched the 6 o'clock news with my parents. I understood the world was much bigger — and smaller — than I assumed, as a result.
I'm not convinced my children's generation will see the value of the news the same way.
Sure, a newspaper columnist writing about rapidly shifting news habits is like a door-to-door vacuum salesman rebuking the Roomba. I get it. But my worry is related to a disconnected society and the impact of that reality on our collective empathy for one another.
First, it's important to establish that the media landscape is diversifying, not disappearing, despite the impact of that change on newspapers across the country.