DAVID MURDOCK: On what always works

Frankly, it’s been a rough year for me. It really has. However — there’s always a “however” — it’s also been one of realizations.

The end of the year prompts me to think about it. The ends of years always do that to me. There are simply some things that I don’t notice … until there’s a reason.

Some small examples are calendars and books. That I might write about the subject of books is no surprise, but my yearly consideration of calendars always does surprise me a little.

But it’s simple, really. I don’t think about calendars much except at the end of the year. That’s the time that, like most people, I buy one … or a couple — one wall calendar for the kitchen and one notebook calendar for my journal.

Sometime before New Year’s Day, I’ll go buy an 8½ by 11-inch calendar for the journal, used for keeping track of upcoming events and past ones. I’m not quite as obsessive about it as some, but I do tend to note anything out of the ordinary. I know exactly which notebook calendar to buy at what store, and I’ll have to go soon before they run out.

That journal calendar is important to me, mainly because it’s a sort of “year at a glance” for all the events that happened in this soon-to-be past year. It forms an ad-hoc index for my journal; if I want to know when I wrote about something, I look on the calendar.

The wall calendar is a bigger decision. After all, I’ll be looking at the artwork for all of 2024, and the choice of what calendar to buy takes on added importance. The last few years, I’ve been specifically buying calendars featuring great artists — either a sort of anthology like “Impressionist Artists,” or one devoted to a particular painter like this year’s calendar featuring the Scottish artist Deborah Phillips or 2021’s, featuring (and I’m not joking) Bob Ross, the “happy little trees” painter from PBS.

And … I save them all after the year is done. I love to go back and look at the art.

Now … books.  I haven’t read as much in 2023 as I would have liked … but I might say that same thing of any year. However, the books I’ve read have been excellent, some of them really shattering whatever I thought I knew about the world. Well, to be specific, the world of writing and reading and literature in general. Honestly, some of them have changed the way I think about those subjects.

It amuses me that I just wrote several paragraphs on calendars and only one on books. Once that calendar decision is made for the coming year, it’s made. My book decisions will last longer.

But the idea that draws them both together is that … they work. They function. They never give me any problems. What I mean by that is that a physical calendar or a physical book is always there and easy to use.

I’m thinking about that because … my Kindle e-reader keeps running out of charge. After all, I use it a lot.  After settling in to read and opening it, I’ll get that dreaded “low charge” warning, and that lets me know that I won’t be able to read perhaps as much as I like. But a book always works. No matter how old the physical book is, the words on the pages can always be read.

Same with the calendars, in a way. I always know where my calendars are; I never have to wonder “Now where did I put that calendar?” in the way that I have to wonder “Where did I put that cellphone?” The answer half the time, by the way, is “under the cat.” I usually toss the cellphone on the bed when I come in, and Simi Kat likes to nap on it. So, when I start looking for the cellphone, I usually start by rousing her to see if she’s on top of it.

Granted, I do sometimes lose track of where I put a book — I’ve written columns about the subject — but it’s not a daily occurrence. I’m far more likely to lose track of an idea in a book — that’s why I annotate and highlight. Sometimes, I’ll use an annotation as a sort of calendar, writing something like “See journal entry for this date” and note the date.

The greatest advantage in physical wall calendars and books, though, is that they’re quiet. They never nag me with messages like “low battery.”  They simply work. The only “battery” needed is me. And … my “reading battery” has bottomed out occasionally — I’ve fallen asleep for a few moments before while reading.

Those physical wall calendars and books are forgiving, though. They also encourage lingering. I can linger over the pages of a book, for example, and flip back-and-forth easily to see my annotations and underlines — something that’s not as easily done with an e-reader. That stash of “great art” calendars? The same. That’s why I keep them.

If this last year has taught me one thing, it’s to take things slowly. If it’s taught two: Look under the cat. Three? Look around and linger over that which I love.

David Murdock is an English instructor at Gadsden State Community College. He can be contacted at murdockcolumn@yahoo.com. The opinions expressed are his own. 

This article originally appeared on The Gadsden Times: David Murdock looks at the value of calendars and books