Front Matter
Preface
The last section is hardly where you would find the preface in a book. However, in a book, the “introduction” starts presenting the material, while the “preface” addresses the topic “how this book came to be and why you should read it.” In a web site, tradition (as much as web sites can have tradition at this point in history) holds that the first pages jump right into things, while the meta-information goes at the end. Perhaps web sites should have postfaces, not prefaces.
A prosthesis is a device that replaces a missing body part or augments the functioning of a misfunctioning body part. Almost everyone is familiar with prostheses: an artificial leg or a wheelchair might be a prosthesis for an amputee, and glasses or contact lenses might be prostheses for someone with imperfect sight.
For several decades, I searched for a mental prosthesis. I was incredibly frustrated by my inability to remember my commitments, follow up on my plans, use my time and money wisely, and organize my life. I was motivated: I was furious with myself when I let myself or others down by failing to fulfill some commitment or by neglecting some plan. I put forth considerable effort: I attended time management seminars, read time management and self-organization books, and tried every organization and self-management technique I could discover. Somehow, though, the techniques that seemed so clear during the seminar would become opaque shortly thereafter, the skills would evaporate quickly after the book closed, the lists become first cumbersome and then overwhelming; and I would return to “normal.”
When my search began—in the old days when day planners were rare and computers had their own rooms—all I had was Alan Lakein’s How to Get Control of Your Time and Your Life. The techniques described in this book are excellent tools—but for me they were not enough. I would “Swiss cheese” an overwhelming task into its pieces, and misplace the list of pieces. I would make up my “to do” list then forget to look at it. I would make and place signs with Lakein’s Question (“What is the best use of my time right now?”), read them, and be completely unable to answer the question.
When personal computers were introduced, I tried various computer programs to remember things for me. While Sidekick, its imitators, and its successors helped, this too did not work particularly well: a desktop computer is not something you can carry around with you. When laptop computers were invented and then became reasonably priced, my mental prosthesis became closer to reality—but it’s not like you can take the time to boot up a laptop computer every time you want to make a note of something. Besides, even laptop computers are inconvenient to carry around all the time—such as to meals, weddings, and church.
I of course tried day planners. Over a great many years, I tried pocket size wire bound planners, full sheet loose-leaf planners, and almost everything in between. I eventually settled on a half sheet loose-leaf planner—large enough to be useful in recording what I wanted to do and what I did, but small enough to usually carry with me. But the paper planner was passive: it could not remind me I was missing an appointment, for example. The paper planner also was difficult to search: unless I put a line describing a note in the monthly index, attempting to find some information from long ago took hours, whether the search was successful or not.
With the advent of the handheld computer—in particular, the Palm OS platform—my decades-long quest for a mental prosthesis has come to a successful end. My Palm OS device keeps my notes, lets me search months’ worth of records in seconds, reminds me of my appointments, and even lets me edit documents while relaxing in the easy chair watching television with my family. It fits into my shirt pocket and is always ready for use. A Palm OS device is also relatively cheap. A year’s supply of day planner pages costs $50 to $150, depending on the brand, layout, and design. A retail Pocket PC device will run anywhere from $400 to $800. A Palm OS device can be bought for as little as $50. (See the Useful Links page for stores.) So for less than a single year’s worth of day planner pages, I had my mental prosthesis. Since I had been buying day planners for everyone in my family, everyone in my family now has a mental prosthesis as well.
Over the last year, I have explored the capabilities of my Palm OS device, discovered some tricks, tried (and usually discarded) hundreds of applications, and formed some opinions. This web site is one I would have loved to see in my early days as a Palm OS device user. I do not pretend this web site is as comprehensive as any of the various books on the market. On the other hand, this web site is free.
So here is my little contribution to the world of opinion disguised as fact (or sometimes fact disguised as opinion) that is the web. I hope you find it useful, or at least entertaining.
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Copyright © 2002 Brian Hetrick
Page last updated 15 July 2003.
