Dear Diary, I have to admit this to somebody before I burst: I love paper! Sometimes it’s all I can think about and at other times I find myself wanting to talk only about paper even when other paper—I mean, people—want to switch the subject. I’m going to try to get it out of my system here and now. So, what is it about paper that I love so much? I can’t imagine I’m alone in loving the whisper thin, dependably lined, sometimes hole-punched, consistently 8” x 11” crisp, white, previously pulpy material that can be blown across the room or down the street with the gentlest of breezes. What a weakling, you might say. Paper, so defenseless and an absolute bore at parties. Easily crumpled and tossed in the trash. The next sheet sits patiently to absorb and reflect whatever thoughts, ideas or utter nonsense passes through a person’s mind. I’m not sure even dogs are that patient with we humans. Can I propose a new slogan? Paper, man and woman’s best friend:) I should warn any deeply devoted dog lovers to skip to the next paragraph now. I had a dog when I was younger and he was cute, but there was a boat load of droll (our generation’s all-natural version of slime:), poop coming out the wazoo (literally!) and loud gagging with subsequent throwing up of all sorts of things (and I mean all sorts—often inedible objects that apparently looked delicious through the eyes of a dog). Don’t even get me started on the early morning wake-up calls, periodic car rides with door opened coaxing the dog to drive home after eluding backyard security, and tumbleweeds of hair and hair and—did I mention? Hair! (not to be confused with here, hear, or hare) Back to paper. Quiet, potty-trained, never-needing-nails trimmed, hairless paper. Sure, paper can’t curl up next to you or clean up the floor after dinner, but dang—it listens like you wouldn’t believe. And, that’s all anybody really wants in this world isn’t it—to be heard? Lord knows it’s harder than ever to be heard these days and so may I suggest: Paper. It's cheap. It will not judge or suggest you spelled something incorrectly. You won’t find yourself caught in a tug of war with paper when a letter you decided to make lowercase is forced to be uppercase. It’s like forcing lefties to be righties. It’s just wrong! Paper may run out of room but will never lose power or force you to stop writing because of an all-of-a-sudden-necessary software update. Paper is slow to anger and rich in—oh wait, sorry, that’s something else. And, while it may be a bit more difficult to find in stores, back in my 20th century days there were whole stores that celebrated paper. Kinkos was one of my favorite places as a young whippersnapper in college with a whole wall devoted to different styles (not just different colors) of paper. Kinkos was like the prequel to FedEx Stores and it had paper for every occasion and any mood.
Daily journal writing may just be the first step toward world peace: imagine everybody, heads down, writing silently in their journals. It doesn’t get more peaceful than that! With that, I’ll leave you with two last ideas.
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