Notebook Note

Anyone that hangs around me for any length of time knows or notices that I usually have a pocket-sized notebook and pen with me.

I carry this pad of paper for the overt reason of taking notes of something that I either really want to remember or something that I need to do. On one level, it provides people with whom I work a bit of comfort – when they utter a profound thought or state a project need – seeing the notebook come out is a non-verbal cue. With the notebook, I am saying, “Your current discussion/statement is important enough that I’m going to try to make sure that I can remember it.”

People, being the creatures that we are, usually respond with a bit of chagrin and needling toward me. This is analogous to people not being able to take a complement – I get the needling because somewhere in my fellow conversationalist’s psyche, he finds it difficult to believe that someone thinks enough of his/her thought to put it to paper.

That is Reason #1 that I carry a pad of paper.

Covertly, I carry the pad as a reminder of my dad.

Years ago, when I was just out of college, visiting back home, and running errands with Dad, he said, “Do you have a piece of paper? . . . of course you do, you’re an engineer.”

Those few words, in a passing moment (probably in a hardware store) placed upon me a little bit more of my dad’s admiration and love toward me. It felt good.

It still feels good today.

That is Reason #2 that I carry my brown-covered, pocked-sized, curved-to-match-my-butt pad of paper.