I've mentioned before how I've made a conscious decision to read more. I've picked up a few thrift-store books (Three for a dollar? Can't beat that!) and visited the library once or twice. But I have to be honest with myself. I have dozens of perfectly good choices already on my bookshelves. I recently read Game of Thrones (George R.R. Martin), The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley), a couple by Agatha Christie, and, of course, The Complete Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle). Earlier this year, I proudly completed Dracula (Bram Stoker) for the second time in my life. As soon as I finish the so-so 25-cent book I've got open now, I plan to take another look at Frankenstein (Mary Shelley) and/or The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (Robert Louis Stevenson) as seasonal selections.
As I perused my shelves, trying to find the best method of storing them, I came across a few that will not be going on my "to-read" list. I found five that could be considered textbooks! Why do I still have these? I've been out of college for a number of years (that shall remain unspecified). I distinctly remember two, and I expect the others I picked up at garage sales just because I thought I should have more.
I have nothing in particular against textbooks. I realize that I still have my introductory texts to both psychology and sociology. No, I haven't opened them in longer than I can remember, but I liked those classes and you never know when I might need to look something up! There are a few thick collections of poems, short stories, or plays. Naturally I have more than a few dictionaries, style guides, and other similar reference books. And I will never give up either volume of The Norton Anthology of English Literature (though I'm not sure I will ever open it to read Beowulf again).
There was a time and a place in my life for these books. But no longer. Now I am glad to say that I read for enjoyment...for me. I discover new authors (recently finished my first by Neil Gaiman) and revisit old favorites (Douglas Adams, I'll be coming back to you). I don't need guides to criticism and theory. Oh, I might subconsciously analyze, compare and contrast, or critique. But I'll do that however it comes naturally. It's time to kick these paperbacks out of the nest.
Oh...that means I have room for a few new books on my shelves. What should I choose next?
When I heard the "clunk" on the porch today, I assumed the wind had blown something over yet again. I discovered, however, that it was actually the sound of the new phone book being delivered.
That still feels like kind of a big deal, even though I no longer immediately flip to the page where I can see my name in print. (I'll never be a celebrity, so for me it's almost like 15 seconds of my 15 minutes of fame.) We actually get books from two different providers. This is the smaller of the two, so it's more convenient to store in the car or in a tiny nook. Perhaps it's the librarian in my family DNA that gives me a bit of a rush to have so much information at my fingertips. I can look up a phone number for an acquaintance or an address for a business. Local ZIP codes and area codes are there, too, just in case you need to double check one.
Then I wondered, when was the last time I opened the previous edition? Maybe, just maybe, I was trying to get ideas for a different place to eat. Perhaps I looked for a store ad to find out their hours. But realistically, I must admit that I don't use it as often as I used to. Once folks chose to have their numbers "unlisted" or "non-published," it became harder to find the number you needed. Now, of course, many households have only cell phones and no landline so they aren't even included. I also wonder why I ever had to look up a person's number in the first place. If I expect to be calling someone, I'll just ask for the number. If I don't have it, I probably don't need to call them anyway. Besides all that, I must admit that when I want to find that information, I'm more likely to just bring up a search engine on my computer or phone. Is it possible that the printed phone book of our youth has become "old-fashioned"? But we need them for youngsters to sit on to reach the dining room table! (Yes, I remember it being done that way.)
Naturally, that isn't the only thing that could become just a quaint reminder of the past. For several years I've used an electronic calendar. I can have the page open when I'm in front of my computer or have reminders sent right to my phone. I'm still not quite ready, though, to completely ditch something I can actually hold in my hand to flip the pages. We can write things down using different colors of ink or simply "pencil you in." I just hate the thought of being tied to an electronic device for everything. I feel more secure having a real-life record of important (and some not-so-important) dates and events. As I type this, though, I realize that I've long since abandoned my "real" address book. My contacts are stored in various places where I can view them as needed...as long as I have electricity or a wi-fi connection. (That was another nice thing about the old phone book. There was always room inside the cover to jot down your most-used numbers so you didn't have to look them up every single time.)
Don't get me wrong. I love that I have access to so much information with just a few clicks. I can update an address or appointment with a few keystrokes rather than a bottle of Wite-Out. Many tasks have been made so much easier that we can hardly remember how we managed before. But it still makes me nostalgic (as many things do) for how things were done "back in my day." Library lovers lamented the loss of the traditional card catalog at their favorite home for books. Sure, a computer is faster, but it's just not the same. Greeting cards seem to continue to sell well, but in many cases they've been replaced by text messages or posts on social media. (I'm guilty of that, surely. I think I'm more likely to use cards for more serious occasions and big holidays.) I still clip some coupons from the Sunday newspaper (yes, I still read a printed paper), but I also find savings with phone apps or by loading them onto a supermarket loyalty card. I think I have a road atlas in the car, but I'll get directions online or use GPS if I'm looking for a route. (Could anyone successfully fold a road map, anyway?) I use an online dictionary on a regular basis, but I also own several hardcover editions. There's something a little awe-inspiring about seeing all those words, many of which I don't know and may never use. Last month I baked an apple crisp from a recipe in an email newsletter (which I printed out). Last week, though, I made a soup I found while browsing the old Betty Crocker. Sure, I can find thousands of recipes online, but real cookbooks make a kitchen feel more homey. And don't even try to make me give up my Post-it Notes, which are conveniently located in every room in the house.
Online resources and storage can certainly be more efficient and don't use nearly as much paper as they did in their original formats. But I feel more connected to my information if I can actually touch it once in awhile. I'm not ready to transition completely away from that. So if you ever want to know the date of an upcoming event or need to find a phone number, I'll be happy to look it up for you.
