26. 3 x 5 Cards

Today is 14 days from the first anniversary of Dad’s passing. I’ve committed to writing 40 stories about him as that day approaches. Forty Steady Stories.

Dad was an early adopter in terms of technology. He moved to digital photography way before most people did, because he saw the potential ahead — as well as the huge savings on his film costs! He bought the iPhone when it first came out. Before the iPhone, he had a string of handheld devices going back to the 70s-80s. The first one I remember was a Hewlett-Packard financial calculator that could compute compound interest and depreciation via automated function keys. He was fascinated by that little gadget and used it all the time in business long before computers were on every desk and in everyone’s pockets.

I don’t know why he even needed some of those early calculators, though. He could do math in his head like no one I’ve ever seen. Trust me, business associates that let his Bristol accent and “How y’all doing?” demeanor capture their attention often found themselves playing catch-up when Steady the Mathlete kicked it into gear. It was truly fun to watch. And negotiations were just plain done whenever he pulled out a deck of cards and started doing magic tricks — like cutting for high card on the difference in price. (I’m leaving a couple of priceless stories out right now!)

However, the one constant before, during, and after all the shifts in technology were his 3” x 5” index cards. As long as I can remember, Dad kept cards with him at all times. ALL times. He was meticulous about keeping his TODO list on the cards, and he really had a great system that he constantly tweaked and refined.

It started with white cards in his shirt pocket when I was little. Through the years it evolved into multi-colored cards, leather card holders for his pants pocket, and wooden holders for his desks, and even a separate holder for his car. Mom knew that if she needed Dad to do something, that item had to make it onto a card that she’d put on the kitchen counter or table.

He had custom cards printed for himself and anyone else who wanted them. I have a few stacks of different version of PMC cards like the one above. I treasure this one in the picture. I found it going through some of Dad’s things. It has Dad’s handwritten notes entitled “MY STORY” from what I gather are his early childhood memories from days in Bristol, Virginia. It’s covered front and back with brief notes and names of what and who he found important. I can tell from the writing that it’s several years old at least before his writing became harder to read.

I have seen thousands of these cards with Dad’s handwriting — thousands upon thousands over the years. Quite simply, it was the way he got things done. One of his favorite things to do when he finished the task on the card was rip the card in half and throw it in the trashcan. I remember days when his home trash can was full of cards ripped in half.

This system was such a paradox to me, but it was so incredibly effective. The paradox came from the fact that Dad loved technology and innovation that increased his or the company’s efficiency, but his list still got done with pen and paper at the forefront.

Dad’s system of getting things done was incredibly simple, but it just plain worked. I think I’ve tried 57 varieties of apps and task-tracking software, and I just can’t ever seem to settle into one thing because I want to make the system better or more personalized for me.

I’ve decided to drop the digital efforts and try going “old school Steady” next year. My New Year’s resolution is to use 3 x 5 cards for the month of January. I can’t wait to write on the first one, handle that task, then rip it up, and throw it in the trashcan. I might even bring myself to write it on a Carolina Blue card in his memory, but that might depend on how Wake’s teams are doing in a couple weeks.

I’ve already decided what I’ll write on my first 3 x 5 on January 1, 2022, since that first card is important. It will simply say, “THANK DAD.”