By Abe Villarreal
I keep a Rolodex on my desk. It's a long, rectangular kind. Business cards of all colors and designs are in there. When I'm in a hurry, I stuff Post-its with handwritten numbers on them. Sometimes the pink "while you were out" slips are in there too.
I like the word Rolodex. It stands for something that doesn't sound like it exists anymore. I'm assuming the word came from something that kept an index of information. Something that rotated. I'm sure it was a novel invention at the time.
My Rolodex, now boringly called a business card holder, doesn't feel as amusing as the Rolodex of the past, but it still serves the same purpose. To me, it does more than give me a phone number. I can use my smartphone for that. It reminds me of when I met that person, who they work for, and why I felt I should keep the business card on file.
Even with the advancement of technology, I think more people should keep a Rolodex. Now, we throw everything away when we think we've found a new way. A new way to remember things, to organize things, to keep order in our lives. Just because something is old doesn't mean it has lost its value.
If I were to take a picture of my office, where I spend most of my life, it would tell you that I'm living in the present while trying to hold on to some of the past. Not everything is worth hanging on to, but some things are worth keeping, just to remind you of who you were and how you lived when you were just getting started.
Time doesn't wait on anyone. As you get older, making every minute count seems like a losing battle. We get slower. Time moves faster. Still, my Rolodex remains there, by my updated digital desk phone. Near it is an old clock radio. The kind where you have to roll between stations to find the least staticky one. I can't press a button to find the exact station call numbers, so I just move the little wheel to try to get it right where it sounds the clearest.
I like my clock radio. Not because it tells me the time. I like it because it reminds me that I could tune in to the local station. To hear those corny commercials. Those familiar advertising jingles I can't get out of my mind. To listen to the top 20 songs in a seemingly unending loop. I can't experience all of that without the clock radio.
Most other things in my office are keeping me up to date because that's what the company wants to have to be successful. I say success comes with both what brought you to today and what will take you into the future. A lightning-speed laptop is just as useful as a hanging 12-month calendar, filled with notes reminding you of upcoming important dates.
We are all a mix of old and new. Of Rolodex and iPhone. Of what we were and what we've become. I like to remember who I was. I think it makes me a better who I am.
Abe Villarreal writes about the traditions, people, and culture of America. He can be reached at
