Will he remember newspapers?
Personally, I think newspapers still have a decent shot, because too many people still prefer to touch the news, rub the headlines between their thumb and forefinger, clip and tear and save the things they love. You can't line a hamster cage with a laptop. You can't start a good Thanksgiving fire.
In our house, it has always been the Sports page first. From the time they could walk, I taught them how to read the Sports page over breakfast and use it like a blotter for spilled Cheerios.
Sure, you know how to read a Sports page, but they didn't have a clue. You start with the smallest print, the box scores, then work your way up through the standings, the game stories, the columnists, the ads.
To borrow a late colleague's line, a newsroom in distress is like a broken home. But, especially in tough times, it's still a home -- a sanctuary, a place where ideas are sifted and values shaped. It's still a city's conscience.
Witness Bill Plaschke's smart tirades against Manny and his master. Read Steve Lopez railing, with fire and wit, on behalf of those who can't catch a break.
The world doesn't need fewer newspapers, it needs more of them. And let me ask you this: What's a life without box scores?
If the very thought of that zings you a little, there is still hope for newspapers. If you couldn't care less, we might very well be doomed.
In the meantime, I'll play the pie-eyed optimist. How will our kids grow up -- the budding shortstops and quarterbacks, the gymnasts and the midfielders? They'll grow up smiling, because as long as a kid has a ball to kick and a team to cheer, childhood will always be more than just OK. It will be seven flavors of grand. Because sports, like movies, gives us way more happy endings than real life.
Now, batter up . . .
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Erskine's Man of the House column appears Saturday in Home section.
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chris.erskine@latimes.com
