I've subscribed to The New Yorker for over twenty years. I initially received a subscription as a birthday gift because I liked reading the short stories. For the first few years those were my favorites, but the quirky characters and meandering plots grew tiresome. What was once a pleasure became just another 3000 words to slog through to yet another pointless slice of life ending. But there were always the cartoons! In the worst years (thank you Tina Brown) they were about all I could truly look forward to. So I renewed year after year, not wanting to miss Roz Chast. Gradually I noticed I was reading more than the cartoons, talk of the town, and movie reviews. Sometimes I even skipped a cartoon when turning the page. There are suddenly more interesting articles that I want to share. And as a bonus, the writing can't be beat. Always sophisticated but not pretentious. Writing that makes reading a real joy.