Twenty years ago, all lawyers used WordPerfect for data processing, and everyone had a Rolodex in which they kept the names and phone numbers of the important people in their lives.
A Rolodex was the key to information. The collecting and documenting of phone numbers was almost as important to your practice as the law books that lined the book shelves in your office.
Everyone I knew kept and organized the cards on the ferris-wheel like mechanism in their own way. Sure, they were generally alphabetized, but people were often listed not by their name, but by a category or where they worked. Some typed up the cards, some wrote them neatly, others just scratched the name and number and left it at that. I did a little of all.
I still have the original Rolodex I bought when I opened my practice 20 years ago. It’s a medium sized one. I thought about getting the biggest one they made, but didn’t believe I could properly fill it. I never really completely filled the medium one, so I guess I made the right decision.
Now that all my contacts are on my phone and I have easy access to the Internet, I use the Rolodex about once a month. That is about the same frequency that I manually change the channels when I watch television. My Rolodex usually stays in the back of a big drawer in my desk until I need it every full moon or so.
The other day, I went to look for a number in the Rolodex and I found that the number for the individual I was calling was no longer working. I then preceded to call a number of people that I had not spoken to in the last 15 years and obtained the same result. I soon realized that many of the numbers I had collected and held on to all these years had become useless. I had to face the reality that many of the people I thought I had contact for were no longer in my world. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to reach out and contact many of them again.
My outdated Rolodex is just a reminder that people come in and out of your life; and if you don’t specifically make an effort to stay in touch with folks, you’ll simply lose touch with some of them. Technology helps us keep up to date, but I’m sure there are many numbers and addresses in my iPhone that no longer belong to many of my connections. I’m now in the process of cleaning out my Rolodex and moving the good numbers to my phone if they’re not already there.
While I intend to “clean” out the Rolodex, I will not throw away the cards or the Rolodex itself. I will put it upstairs with all my old worn out briefcases and books. It will sit on the shelf in the remnant closet, where it will have to be thrown away after I die. I should cut out the middle man and throw it away, but it has been a good soldier and it deserves to retire to the closet.
Besides, it might give those that take inventory of my stuff after I die some pause as to whether they should throw it away or keep it. The truth is, whomever is deciding will probably have no problem with the decision. If they read my columns, before they start throwing my stuff away, they’ll know that the correct decision is to throw it all away. It’s the way I intended it, I just couldn’t do it myself. We all need a little help now and then. That’s especially true for those of us way up in the CHEAP SEATS!
Bill James is a co-founder of the James Law Firm with offices in Little Rock, Conway and Fayetteville, Arkansas. His primary area of practice is criminal defense. He can be contacted at Bill@JamesFirm.com