The New York Times on Sunday is a three-pound box of chocolates.

The Wood River Sunbeam is a lemon drop.

The two newspapers are as different as night and day, but I look forward to them equally each weekend because of where they take me.

The Times boasts that it delivers the world, and it does: Last Sunday's A section included stories about whites battling to keep their farms in Zimbabwe and the sport of dogfighting in Afghanistan. Travel featured Java. Sunday Styles' "On the Street" took me to 57th Street in New York for a gander at the holiday windows and fashions.

So much to love. My faves are the obituaries, the Book Review section, Vows, the Op-Ed pages, Deborah Solomon's one- page Q&A's with trendsetters and big thinkers, the recipes I'll never make for exotic cocktails with Cointreau and appetizers with escargot.

Snooty full-page fashion ads from Bergdorf and Louis Vuitton and Chanel. They also take me places I can't go.

Likewise with The Sunbeam.

The 'Beam serves a rural community of about 9,000 in central Nebraska. I spent summers there as a child on a farm my ancestors homesteaded. For more than 100 years the weekly paper has kept folks up to date on weddings, births, deaths, crop reports, sheriff's calls, the bloodmobile schedule, cards of thanks, town council meeting minutes, weekly lunch menus at the senior center and the elementary school. Lots of coverage of the Wood River High Eagle grapplers and cagers. Who's completed basic training. Church circle reports.

I'm a regular reader of "Mountain Man," M.J. Paulk's Outdoor Tips and Trivia. This week I learned that at Christmas, the English traditionally serve a goose, while Germans eat pigs and Americans turkeys. Paulk often includes a simple recipe for venison or Spam. This past week he shook things up a bit with "A sophisticated version of Turkey A La King."

I also never miss "Way Back When" by Tami Spiehs. Spiehs digs up area news from 10, 20, 30, 50 or 100 years ago. Dec. 25, 1908, for example: "The young folks are having a jolly time skating on the Afflerbaugh Pond. About 30 were out Tuesday evening." And this: "Will Colewell is having his residence property wired up in fine shape ready for lighting when the electric lighting plant is connected up."

The back page carries want ads and auction notices. This week, Gibbon Packing is seeking production workers at $11.80 to $17.65 an hour, and Hastings Utilities needs someone to run its coal-fired power plant.

Forty-some years ago the 'Beam ran a picture of me with my 4-H lamb. I've been smitten ever since.

I feel the same about the Rocky Mountain News as do thousands of readers, many of whom have written poignantly on the subject in letters to the editor. Contemplating its possible demise is almost more than I can bear, so I don't. I think about other things.

The Rocky. It is one of so few things we share as a community: the Denver Broncos, the Rocky Mountains, Colfax Avenue. If the Rocky goes, what happens to that glue, that daily diary of events that largely makes this city home? What will inform us as a community? Where will we learn about business, politics, scandals, crime, our heroes, our history, good deals at Argonaut Liquors? Where will we find all the talented columnists who give the Rocky its unique personality?

The Internet - maybe. Or will we just scatter to the wind?

I like newspapers because I can count on where they'll take me. All I can count on in 2009 is a very wild ride.

mwinte@aol.com