I mean that I miss a huge low-cost or free newsprint ad extravaganza. Our local pennysavers and greenwheets nad thrifty nickels all charge a bit too much for advertising, say, one's excess hamsters or the desire that one has to find band-mates who also want to play doom metal with bazoukis. They're not as wonderful as the Recycler.
Between the one hundred pages of any good pennysaver, there are stories to be shared, oddities to be relished, mundanities to be endured, and, sadly, the perpetual sight of people seeking other people to make big money stuffing envelopes.
I love to hold in my hands pages of print-drenched ads for marvels unseen. I set my clock by the pennysaver. I can tell from the ads if a storm is coming. I love that I can find Yugos and tales of divorcing aquariums and
probated sofas. The world was created for less than a penny. A pennysaver keeps hope alive.