LET'S PRETEND - Segment 4 (Scroll down for earlier segments)

     In our office, my wife loves everything organized nicely in a file folder.  That’s probably why I can never find anything.   Having a preference for Alternative Order, I like the “pocket” file.  This is where I keep important notes and other critical information.  Important notes and other critical information mean anything I consider humorous that could go into a yard sale best-seller. 

     According to my teachers, who were willing to speak only on condition of anonymity, I never took notes in school.  I’m sure this was because I found very little humor in algebra, biology and woodshop.  I also had to deal with more important matters, like trying to remember where I was supposed to meet my wandering mind after school. 

    Today I am a prolific note taker, writing notes on any scrap of paper I can find; old receipts, corners of newspapers, napkins, legal documents….These are not just any notes. These are important notes; notes that could go into a highly disclaimed book.

 

    They first go into my “pocket” file, where they remain until it looks as though I’m carrying a water bottle in each pocket.  From there, they go to the computer, or to the plastic bag archives for future use.  After five years, if there is no evidence that the archives have been touched by human hands, they mysteriously vanish into the night, most likely in the garbage.  That could be the reason I’ve seen several sanitation workers sifting through our trash; probably looking for material for a book…”America’s Funniest Garbage.” 

     Occasionally, I think I’ve misplaced them, so I’ll ask my wife, “Connie, have you seen my notes?”

     

     “Here they are,” she says, as she hands me a little white paper ball.

     Once again, I have to remind myself to get my notes into a safe place before she starts washing my clothes. 

     I once thought I could rescue some of my hardly-sought-after material by throwing several little white paper balls into the dryer.  I don’t need to tell you how that worked.  As soon as I opened the dryer door, I was staring at the remnants of a paper blizzard. 

     “Maybe if you run outside to the dryer vent, you can hear some laughs coming out,” said my wife. 

    “That’s why you need to get rid of those crazy scraps of paper,” ranted Lester.  “You can’t sit outside all night with your ear to the vent.  People will start asking questions.”

     “What do you suggest?” I asked.

     “Use my method,” he said.  “Write notes on your hands and arms.”

   

     “I don’t want to look like the front page of the local paper, “I answered.  “Besides, every time you go to the library, people ask to check you out for two weeks.  And the librarian wants to file one of your arms for future reference.” 

     Lester said it was a small price to pay for eliminating the potential of losing valuable information.

     I thought Lester was a lone steely in a sea of marbles until my good friend and teacher, Tommy Hawk, told me his students did the same thing.  “I offer them paper, but they prefer keeping all their notes on their hands and arms.  I guess it’s good to have students who are open books.”

     Personally, I don’t want to be an open book.  I’m not comfortable having people ask, “Can I look at the back of your hand?  I think it has the directions to my hotel.”…”Remember to look under your arm.  You have a dinner appointment at 6.”…”I love what you said on your elbow.  It was hysterical.”…”That was a very funny story on your wrist.”…”If you hold your arm still, I can finish reading.” 

     I think I’ll stay with my pocket files.  

To be continued ...check back soon