Who's Afraid of My TV Guide?

I was listening to the radio on my way to the asian grocery store this afternoon when I heard two gentlemen talking about the steady decline of TV Guide. It seems that The People are more inclined now to seek tv listings on the internet because of the variety, searchability, and so forth. One of the two talked about seeing people on the subway "in the old days" with their newspapers folded over to the television section, a highlighter mapping out their week to come. I detected notes of superiority and nasty pity in his voice that indeed rubbed my rankled fur this way and that. Why?! Why, do you ask? Because if I lived in NY and rode the subway, you might see me on your train on Mondays with my Green Section and maybe not highlighter, but at very least a Sharpie, figuring out when I need to be home, when I can tape, and when I can stay out late with no compunctions concerning "Case Files with Dr.Henry Lee."
The Fact of the Matter is that I don't like most tv listings on the net, I don't find them fast, easy, and infinitely searchable, I find them Annoyingly Time-Consuming. I'm all for the net and technology of every sort, but I find comfort and some bit of anticipatory excitement in laying back on the couch and browsing the tv listings in the paper.
So kill me.
I admit, however, that TV Guide used to be... better, somehow. Growing up, I would beg my mother for a subscription, trying vainly to explain what a valuable resource it was, as we were living in a series of tiny hamlets in North Carolina,only to consistently run up against cat-eye-glasses magnifying tired, irritated eyes. So basically, I always lost. The sad irony is that once I was on my own and could afford the paltry cover price I was no longer interested as I felt, even at that point, that TV Guide just wasn't what it use to be, (or literally "wernt wut it usta be").
Ultimately I am saddened now, by the snowballing irrelavancy of the Guide, the memories of the way-too-easy/dumb backpage crossword puzzles, and the bittersweetness, mostly bitter, of my lost youth.
So it goes. I am tiny.