(Scratchings found on a piece of paper)
At 6 a.m. Monday, April 27, 2015, the sky over Dyckesville, Wis., was clear, the air was crisp and cool. How’s the weather where and when you are today?
It’s hard to believe that we here in 2015 don’t realize what is about to take place, but then it’s hard to believe that the people in your time have forgotten what we know is important.
Books and old newspapers (and mechanically reproduced sounds and images) are portals to the past. We neglect them at our peril.
So, too, is old technology. There may be something to be studied in that old machine – that 1941 Philco radio, that 1972 Plymouth Barracuda – that holds the key to the next step, something we’ve forgotten that is better than we replaced it with.
The past holds keys to tomorrow.
But still, all we have is now.
The world as it was when I wrote the words “April 27, 2015” is gone forever. No need to fret (or celebrate) – simply tend to the needs of the moment.
And on we go.