Black mark on my carbon score this year, I succumbed and bought an evil page-a-day calendar. You know the kind, of course, a year’s worth of paper stacked in a sheath of attention-deficit daily entertainment.
I justify these things (likely wrongly) because I only buy calendars from the discount bin after the new year has already begun. Supposedly, if they go unclaimed they will end up in a landfill in the next few weeks (whereas I can recycle the paper) and when I’m fairly sure they are off the books — or at least red-marked (so they won’t be counted for next year’s inventory orders) — but then what do I know?
Actually, it’s been a couple years since I’ve found one worth buying. My last one was purchased in Vancouver, and was a paper-airplane-a-day calendar. The previous day’s page became the current day’s model, with slick printed designs adorning the back-side. The calendar was fatally flawed, however: first, the planes were too small to do anything. They only barely flew, though few of my office mates objected to the occasional cross-cube paper airplane war. Second, and more troublesome, was the lack of design. I think the whole 365 days only included a dozen or so plane designs, repeated ad naseum.
I’m hoping for better this time. I picked up another paper-folding sheath, this time in the more traditional form of origami. No flights of fancy, but likely a windowsill filled with little paper critters. Though, if I get to February and they are repeating models, I’m giving up on that little cultural meme permanently.