Join me in celebrating the National Post-It Notes Moment. Not day or week or month — moment. This is the moment to pitch all those canary-colored notes that once were important and now are meaningless. Lord knows they won’t jump into the trash by themselves. Stop reading now and get on it.
Join me in celebrating the National Post-It Notes Moment. Not day or week or month — moment.
This is the moment to pitch all those canary-colored notes that once were important and now are meaningless. Lord knows they won’t jump into the trash by themselves. Stop reading now and get on it.
I can tell when it’s time. I can no longer see my computer monitor, shaving mirror, car dashboard or refrigerator. Sound familiar?
But what would we do without Post-It Notes? We’d curl into the fetal position under our beds. Life is not possible without them. Let’s just say we’d never make a doctor’s appointment, an oil change, tax deadline, work assignment or a meeting or lunch of any importance.
We came close to never having them. 3-M rolled them out in 1977 to near-zero sales. Art Fry invented them to mark places in his hymnal. Apparently that was not a major issue beyond Art. The bosses laughed, but Art persevered.
People didn’t know what to do with them. In 1978, 3-M gave millions of Notes to folks in Iowa. The farmers instantly papered their lives with them, hundreds of uses. By 1980, Notes were on way to a billion-dollar product.
We found ourselves converting all of our possessions into bulletin boards, including our children.
The adhesive, called “low tack,” sticks to anything, including flesh and dogs. Then again, it peels off clean, a miracle.
I have some notes on my computer that are 8-years old. My writing on them has faded, but that sticky still does its job. I’d toss them, but they make it look like I work hard.
If you really, really, really have to remember something, Post-It on a body part. It saves me every time.
I catch myself writing interview notes on Post-Its. This is why I never write 72-inch stories. If I cannot get it on three or four Post-Its, forget it.
I was checking out groceries. “You forgot the Italian sausage,” said clerk Mindy Lee. How did she know? She read it on my wife’s Note stuck to my hoodie.
Anyway, it’s time to take a moment and part ways with the Notes that need it. All Notes on your monitor equal no Notes. We cannot see the current ones in the mess.
There’s a protocol to ridding life of Notes. You must fold them in half over the adhesive. Otherwise, you cannot throw them away. These guys were invented to stick on something, even the trash can.
The concept is linkage. Notes attach your thoughts to anything, a way to communicate, just like a computer. Unlike e-mail, they cannot be ignored and won’t crash when you need them most or scam you out of your retirement fund.
Take a moment and write yourself a Note: “Throw out Notes.”
Jim Hillibish writes for The Repository in Canton, Ohio. Contact him at email@example.com.