My Love Affair With Index Cards

The highs and lows across the years

I am not sure it is a love affair so much as it is a compulsive addiction. I am intensely guilt-ridden over the many hectares of trees that were senselessly slaughtered to make all the index cards I have used over the course of my life. Seriously, I feel terrible about it.

I recently mentioned that an index card can be a great tool for creativity but thinking back over my life I now realize that I have used them more for utilitarian purposes than acts of creativity.

I know that the left breast pocket on men’s shirts were originally added to hold a pack of cigarettes. But they also happen to be the perfect size for holding an index card. I cannot even begin to count the many times I have gone out into the world with an index card in my shirt pocket.

The very first time I ever used index cards was in high school — or maybe it was junior high school. I do not remember exactly; it was many decades ago. I was taught how to use them for research for a term paper. In the library I poured through books and when I found a pertinent fact I would write it on an index card. When I had a big stack of index cards full of facts I would then try to put them in some kind of order to write the term paper. I never used that method ever again.

I remember some time in the Seventies I read a book by Erica Jong. In the book she talked about her novel writing methodology. She took a bunch of index cards and at the top of each one she wrote, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, etc. Then under each chapter heading she wrote one or two or three sentences describing what happened in that chapter. It was her way of outlining the book she was about to write.

I was still a newb back then so I gave it a try. I came up with a book that would have twenty-four chapters in three parts with each part having eight chapters. It was very mathematically succinct. So I began writing the book and I think I was on Chapter 20 or 21 when I decided the book sucked and I threw it in the fire. I have no earthly idea what happened to the index cards.

Since then I have never, ever, ever attempted to outline a book before I wrote it. Never! That takes all the joy and spontaneity out of writing a book. It is way, way too left-brained for me.

So at this time I had an awful lot of index cards laying around the house so I started using them for other purposes besides research and writing. One of the most useful purposes was for making grocery shopping lists — especially for when I went grocery shopping while wearing a shirt with a left breast pocket. I have been using them for this purpose ever since. I cannot imagine using anything else for shopping lists.

At some point in time a woman had the crazy idea of marrying me and moving in with me. It did not take her long before she noticed that I had index cards all over the place. That is when index cards started becoming fun and creative.

Way back then she and I were both doodlers. With all those index cards laying around it was really easy to pick one up when we got a spark of creativity and draw a doodle on the back, unlined side of an index card. We would then leave the completed doodle somewhere that the other one of us would surely stumble upon it. I slipped them in her purse or under her pillow or in her pants pockets and she did the same. We left them taped to the bathroom mirror or between kleenexes in a kleenex box or inside books that we were reading. I once stuck one between slices of bread in a loaf of bread. She once left one in one of my shoes. It was a great way to spice up each other’s day.

Seriously, the blank backside of an index card is like a teeny little canvas just waiting for something to be drawn on it, or a line or two of humorous poetry to be written on it. It screams at us to get creative.

It’s not the same with sticky notes. For one thing they are sticky. Yuck. But also they tend to be square. Sorry but I can’t do square. It thwarts my creativity. It has to be rectangular — and what better size than three-by-five? Once I bought a package of four-by-six cards but they were just too big — plus they would not fit in my shirt pocket.

I am not sure exactly when it happened but around sixteen or seventeen years into the marriage, for some reason, my wife and I abruptly and simultaneously stopped doodling and stopped using index cards for creativity. I think that may have been when the marriage started heading south. I have not doodled since — until recently.

I would hereby like to give some advice to all marriage counselors. Start incorporating index cards into your therapy sessions. Hand each of your partner patients an index card and a pen. Have them turn their backs to each other then doodle or write something on the index card. When they are done they then hand their partner their card. Is my idea brilliant, or what? And I am not even a licensed psychologist!

If I could afford some therapy from a noggin doctor I would want to find out why I stopped doodling. It has been close to twenty years since I stopped doodling and I just can’t seem to do it anymore. It is like I forgot how. My hands just do not work that way anymore. It is perplexing.

But maybe I do not need a noggin doctor. (They are so darn expensive!) Perhaps I can get the therapy I need from my two granddaughters. They have recently been coaxing out my inner doodler. Recently I have started to doodle some animals and cartoon characters on the back of index cards and giving them to my ten-year-old and seven-year-old granddaughters. The last time I was over at their house I noticed that the ten-year-old had taped a few of my index card masterpieces on the wall at her desk. This melted my heart and I felt my inner doodler was about to come spewing out. There may be some hope left for me after all.

Anyway, I always have several packs of index cards in my home. When I get down to opening the last pack I immediately have to go out and buy more packs so I am sure to always have enough. Well, yesterday I noticed I had three unopened packs of index cards in my office so I took one and wrapped it with pink little girl Christmas wrapping paper and put a red bow on it to give to my ten-year-old granddaughter. I bet it is the very last thing she would ever expect to get for Christmas.

I hope she likes it.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

Speaking of being a grandpa…