My alumni rep assigned to my region contacted me about a year ago. Though my donations over the years would barely qualify for having my name engraved on a flush handle, I had referred the previous representative to a more accomplished classmate in the same city who chaired a medical school department. He made a huge gift. The referral got me an online invitation to a small-group meeting with the University President. More recently, the new alumni rep arranged for us to chat over a beer.
As a promotional gift, he left me with a chocolate colored genuine Moleskine notebook embossed with the University seal. It remains in mint condition, unopened, on an honored surface of my desk, its matching elastic cord still keeping the pages shut. I had never used one of these. For much of my career, I depended on a seven-ring Franklin Planner, investing time to create core values, then intermediate and long term objectives, Each day I listed tasks with priorities, just as the Franklin Planner tapes instructed. Retirement largely retired my daily organizer, though I still revise what initiatives I plan to pursue twice a year. Each Sunday morning, I list the items whose progress would comprise a Good Week, then every evening I create a list of activities for the following day. All on loose sheets of paper using color coded pens. I have desk journals, marble or spiral books obtained at back to school sales. Each week I monitor my exercise progress. Each day I select three personal achievements worth recording. And at the suggestion of a Harvard professor, I mark something each day that annoyed me, then revisit this observation one month and six months later. So I am very used to maintaining personal notebooks for different purposes. Yet it would never occur to me to keep one on my person to pull out randomly, let alone pay a premium to acquire and maintain one like that moleskine.
Periodically, I receive gift cards, sometimes to Amazon, which I assign to frivolity. Maybe I could use a pocket notebook. Since these sell for many times what my marble or spiral notebooks cost, they must have a justification for that premium. Indeed, as I searched YouTube trying to decide which to get, I encountered a notebook or high-end stationery subculture. Ratings of different brands. Quality of paper. Lined, grid, dotted, or plain paper. Some did not handle fountain pens or even gel pens very well, with smudging and commonly bleeding through to the reverse side. Bindings that allow some to lay flat better than others. Little frills, like a small envelope near the back cover to insert loose paper fragments, paper clips, and thin magnets. Some come with an elastic pen loop, others offer a sticky pad with elastic to create one. My local Target, Staples, and Barnes & Noble all carry displays of Moleskines in a variety of sizes, also standardized by the industry as A or B series followed by a code number indicating size. Target had only Moleskine, which had gotten many critical YouTube reviews, often at a cost above $12. Staples had a house brand. Amazon had several brands. though only moleskine in pocket size. Amazon had all the brands assessed by the YouTube content creators. I selected on Amazon a two pack made by a Japanese company. Lined paper, two flimsy ribbons as bookmarks, tiny envelope at the back. I added an adhesive address label to which I added my cell phone number should I lose it. One notebook went atop my University's Moleskine gift, the other into my cross-chest pouch.
These notebooks typically become EDC or Every Day Carry items. I have mine. My smartphone, two kippot, a microfiber lens cloth, and a cloth face mask not used since the COVID years in my left pocket. Keys, coin pouch, and handkerchief to the right. A Flash drive in the coin pouch. And an overstuffed wallet in the left back pocket. A wristwatch. My bifocals. I also purchased a nylon cross chest carrier for an overseas trip. When I go to OLLI or short errands, I sling this over my neck. It has paper, a multicolored pen, foldable rain poncho, microrecorder, sunglass clip-ons, earphne. My new Aisbugur pocket notebook wedges perfectly over the poncho. After pasting a sticky with my name and address at the inside cover and adding my cell phone number, I took it to a coffee shop. It took less than half a porcelain mug to date and fill out the first page.
Key decision point. How to use this. The library lent me an ebook on the history of notebooks which have acquired a myriad of purposes since first appearing in Italy when commercial paper became economical. Notebooks of various sizes became the prototype for business accounting ledgers, personal diaries, collections of thoughts, preliminary sketches for artists, venting of various types, planning ones day, lists for shopping or errands. I decided to dedicate mine to recording what I think at the time I write in it.
These undertakings go better with rules. It had been my initial intent to rent some space at a coffee shop for a half-hour in the form of a purchse, while I sit undistracted. Each page would have a date, prompted by a printed Date at the top of each page. The lined paper would be filled to the bottom with sentences, then closed, with the elastic strap moved to mark where I left off. Not continued on the next page. I made a quick modification. I did not need the isolation of a coffee shop, just the coffee and a few moments of focus on a small page that reflected my observations, aspirations, and irritations. That has worked well. No competition with phone, laptop, or even Daily Task List as I fill each page with cursive in ball-point that does not seep into the reverse page. I did not reserve two pages for an index, though as I reach the end, I could jot down what appears on each page. They do not come pre-numbered, though. Indeed, some notebooks have perforated margins that enable users to detach pages. For me, I have designated it not as a diary that records things I have done, nor a surrogate psychiatrist where I can express what I feel. It is a place to write text, to connect mind to paper. A useful tool, dedicated to a purpose, much like my marble and spiral books.
YouTube videos greatly expand the culture of these books and the different instruments that people use to enter content. I found people like me, fascinated by pens. Previous Amazon gift card frivolities got me two low-end fountain pens. My Flair pens come as a full multi-colored set, stored in a separate pouch of Burberry Plaid. Apparently, Japan hosts stationery expos where people can sample pens with different inks and price points, stationery products though screens have replaced premium Crane's paper and most professional letterhead for correspondence. The pocket notebook, with its assigned purpose, becomes one element of linking brain to paper, whether the record be disposable or permanent.
Thus far, I have found my new pocket notebook a worthy destination, a valued partner with a mug of brewed coffee, and a setting apart from competing distractions.
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