A Spin Through The Past ...
It's called a Rolodex. It was invented shortly after fire and the wheel.
I am old enough to have had one. I still do. It lives on a shelf in the closet off of my office. It's probably time to shred all the cards and recycle the rest of it. But it serves a fine function as a time capsule, too.
There are phone numbers listed on some of those cards for ... radio stations that no longer exist.
I think I developed a tad of arthritis just typing that sentence.
In all seriousness, though, there are also phone numbers and addresses on some of those cards of people who are no longer with us and the world is a much poorer place for their absences.
It felt like such a rite of passage to buy a Rolodex, proof that I was a legitimate member of the working world. Once I had a permanent desk at the Tribune, I guess I was a legitimate member of the working world, though my Tribune business cards would not come until a couple of years later and, unbeknownst to me at the time, not long before I would decide to resign.
I thought about flipping through the cards and writing stories prompted by the various entries. I may still. Or I may not. I've spent a fair amount of time mulling apsects of my past.
As one person from my Trib past would say: Onward.