My Grandfather: Used to write on the top front page of the newspaper articles that he would like to go back to and read.
My Father: Used to write many a note on plain white paper (about 3”x5” in size) and keep it tucked away in this office. Must have been the genes.
Me: The other day, sitting in a meeting, I realized I was out of paper. I tore a tiny portion off a larger (and already utilized) sheet of paper and began writing a note. Looking across the table, a friend realized the ludicrous nature of my actions and offered, “Would you like a piece of paper?” No, somehow I was just fine. It was all in the genes.
Me, again: Looking at my work to-do list, I noticed that all of the top priority items were listed with stars. Problem. 7 out of 11 items were listed with stars. Flawed system. I blame the genes.
Me, again, again: Often I’m found writing random thoughts on tiny bits of paper. Who benefits from this? You the reader, who benefits from me writing down random thoughts and later developing them into full essays. Who’s to blame? The genes.
My 8-year-old son Sam: “I need a piece of paper.” Suggesting that he borrow one from the computer printer in the basement, he opted to tear off a 1”x1” corner off a flier from school hanging on the (much closer than the basement) refrigerator. Scribbling on the paper, Sam wrote down some bits of trivia that he wanted to remember. “Bored is 150” (translation: during Sunday’s children’s sermon, Sam learned that the word “bored” was first used by Charles Dickens about 150 years ago). “Revenge of the Fifth” (translation: if May the 4th is a Star Wars pun on “May the Force,” then May 5th can be “Revenge of the Fifth,” a pun on “Revenge of the Sith,” the third Star War prequel). Poor, poor Sam. He doesn’t stand a chance. Once again, the genes.
At least Sam used good penmanship for his micro note. Good penmanship is usually nowhere to be found “in the genes.”