Remember back in the good old days of journalism, when reporters lived like veritable kings? Me neither. But we know those days existed, because now everyone who lived through them is getting nostalgic:

The first time I went down to Rio in 1986, I flew business class. I was working for The Wall Street Journal. When I got back, I handed my expenses to Eric Morgenthaler, then the bureau chief in Miami.

He had a glass office. I watched him, before he called me in and asked why I’d flown business. Overnight flight, I said, interview with a minister the next morning, blah, blah, blah.

“The Wall Street Journal,” Morgenthaler said with a certain class and solemnity, “flies first class.”

Now those same reporters wish they had money to purchase in-flight snacks. But like town cars at Conde Nast and the drink cart at Time Inc. and the legitimate possibility of full-time employment, those things are gone now. The golden age of journalism, when the money flowed freely, was actually an aberration. Now, things are back where they used to be: with reporters hitching rides cross-country on box cars. America! [NYT]