There was no newspaper on the driveway this morning.

Home delivery of the paper was recently cut back to four days a week. Actually, three days a week, plus a “bonus” Saturday home delivery. So, it’s not unusual to go outside some days and find nothing. I’m not comfortable with the new set up, but I’m learning to accept that this is the way it’s going to be for the foreseeable future.

But today is Sunday.

If there is one day of the week that I look forward to reading the paper more than others, it’s Sunday. It’s a given that the Sunday paper consistently has better content than the papers on other days. It’s reflected in the price, too.

When I saw there was no paper on the driveway, my first reaction was, “OK, Lori must have taken the paper inside already.”

Wrong.

Calling to complain wasn’t an option. If Lori had been home, I might have asked her to call, but she was at the mall with the kids, shopping for clothes for our youngest, 14-year-old Joseph, who has gone through a recent growth spurt and is now taller than his mom.

Running out and buying a paper wasn’t an option, either. The Pilots had a 1 p.m. game against Southern Utah and I was more interested in getting to the Chiles Center than I was in reading about Alabama-Auburn or Central Catholic-Tigard. Plus, if I’ve learned anything since the paper cut back on home delivery, I know that I can survive a day without a paper.

Again, I’m not comfortable not having a daily paper, but I accept that as a new reality.

Yes, almost all the information that is in the paper is available online. Sometimes I get the feeling that the paper would prefer that I access content online rather than read it the old-fashioned way, but I’m not wired that way. I’m not that kind of reader. I enjoy the physical newspaper more than navigating a website. I like that I can put the paper down and then pick it up later.

Same goes for the magazines that I subscribe to. All of them are offered in a web-based or Kindle format, but I don’t want to read them that way. It’s just a personal preference. And I know I’m not the only one who feels that way.

I still read plenty of stuff online, mostly out-of-town papers and websites such as The Onion and Deadspin. But when it comes to the local paper, I go out of my way to avoid clicking on any of the paper’s online content. I’m afraid that the more I click, the more inclined the paper may be to continue down the path of less and less home delivery.

I don’t want to encourage them.

It’s hard to imagine a time when home delivery is reduced to one day a week or when print editions no longer exist, but maybe that’s where we’re heading.

I wonder if it’s too late to make a call?