So how exactly am I supposed to use a daily tear-off calendar?

Beck gets it. The real value is whatever is on those day pages, besides the day number of the month.

The daily desk calendars I liked were the Far Side* ones, where (as @TriPolar said) you keep or pin up the ones that speak to you and ditch the rest (immediately if you’re sensible, or at a significant delay if you’re a packrat like me).

And just giving the cute critter pictures to kids to enjoy is the epitome of doing this right.

*I also liked the Dilbert ones, long ago when they were incisive and relevant observations of office culture. Obviously, that’s all in the past and I’d probably just discreetly cut to the chase and immediately toss the whole calendar directly into the trash if someone gave one of those to me now.

Well there was that nice origami one. That screwed with my head.
:blush:

I don’t care about the date. I’m only there for the cartoons. :slightly_smiling_face: I also use the torn off pages for notes, so I can read them again. I get a lot of mileage out of my calendars, but now I have a desk drawer full of little pieces of paper.

The one thing I kind of miss about my job is that before the morning rush, the people in nearby offices would gather round my desk to see what the cat on that morning’s Cat-a-Day calendar page looked like. (I don’t miss the actual calendar, because I’ve been buying them for home use since I retired.)

Watching old movies, I expected the sheets to peel off on their own. And newspapers to fly spinning into my face. And little dogs to run out of butcher shops trailing a string of stolen frankfurters.

The correct way to use one of these calendars is to gaze at it occasionally, swearing each time that you’ll actually use this one unlike all of the others that you’ve had, before throwing it away next year having never removed so much as one page. That’s what I do.

Unlike some people.

Don’t forget suddenly realizing that the person who gave you the calendar is coming to visit so you tear off half a year in one go.

I have, but only when the content is a puzzle, riddle, or the like, and the back has the answer. So during the day, you work on the current day’s puzzle, and then the next day you tear it off, see if you got it right, and start on the next one.

Bingo! As much as I’d like to picture myself tearing off one day every day for a whole year, I’m not that disciplined.

Especially if there’s no way I’d ever need an additional prompt saying “Hey! It’s Tuesday, April 2nd!”

.

eta: Just checked, the OP’s bio says he’s in his forties and a lawyer. Surely not someone who needs instruction in something so basic…

I don’t need instructions. I just noticed that there are different ways of using these calendars and was wondering how people do it.

They seem pretty straightforward. Every morning. New day. *Rip one off.

You might go thru and jot birthdays and anniversaries you wanna remember. I’m not that ambitious, ever.

I can’t imagine people do much else.

*Well, that sounds rude. Sorry. :blush:

Heh. For some years, I had a “Crossword Puzzle of the Day” calendar, which I could do pretty quickly. I gave up on those calendars, as they were too easy, and I could do them in five or ten minutes. (My normal crossword fare is the NYT Sunday puzzles.) Nowadays, my calendar has no puzzles, but it does have a cute ginger tabby kitten and a duckling for the month of April. Fun to look at!

Oh, I had one of those. Never used it as a calendar. Stuck a few dates in my bag when going somewhere, if I was expecting a need to wait. I’d pull one out and do it. They were insanely simple most dates.
I looked for a more difficult one once . No luck.

(That day has not come yet :smirk:)

Beck, if you want a more difficult one, I’d suggest the New York Times Sunday crossword. It’s bigger than the daily one, and always themed. Best of all, the NYT publishes collections of its Sunday puzzles. I guess I should say “in book form,” since so much today is online. Anyway, they’re about a Thursday difficulty, and I’ve always got one on the go. Heck, one is always in my briefcase, and helps me kill time in waiting rooms, airports, courthouses, and so on.

Hey, I’ve got 48 puzzles to go in my latest collection of 50 NYT Sunday puzzles. Go me!

The ones I’ve been crowdfunding on Kickstarter for the last few years do. It’s a solo RPG campaign that takes place over the course of the year. On each day, you rip off the old sheet, read the front of today’s sheet for plot and to find out what decisions you get to make and what dice rolls you have to do, then you consult the back of the previous day’s page to find out the result of your decisions and rolls. It’s a fun little way to get a minute or too of escapism and excitement in your day.

Almost reminds me of a character I almost remember in maybe Kesey’s “Sometimes a Great Notion”? - someone gave Granny a Bible printed on real thin paper, so she put it in the outhouse and religiously read one new page every morning…

This is a good start, but it’s a bit too simplistic. Calendar flipping must be turned into a precision art form. We’re not just tearing pages here; we’re orchestrating a symphony of time and paper.

The tearing off of the previous day’s page, as you say, should occur at exactly 12:00 midnight. But, at that point, the page must be placed back onto the top of the pad so that it appears to be undisturbed. Then you must do some calculations in order to complete the slow reveal of the new day to coincide with daybreak, much like the slow reveal the sun makes as it progresses from midnight darkness, to the light of daybreak.

For this to be accurate you must know the exact time of daybreak at your location (which you can Google), and you must know the exact height of your calendar page (in inches, or better still: millimeters). Then every hour, on the hour, from midnight to daybreak, you must slide the previous days’ page downward in equal increments, in such a manner that the new days’ page is fully revealed at exactly daybreak. If you’re a stickler for precision, you could do the reveal in 15-minute increments. However, only people on the autistic spectrum should attempt it every minute.

For the sake of simplicity, let’s assume the height of your calendar is 6”, and daybreak occurs at exactly 6am. We already know that there are 6 hours between 12 midnight and 6am, so we calculate that the previous days’ page must be slid downward exactly 1” per hour (i.e. at 1am, 1” of the new day page is revealed; 2 inches are revealed at 2am, and so on and so forth, until full reveal at 6am).

The calculations get a little more complicated with non-standard calendar page heights and varying times of daybreak at your location. But, if you want to “calendar” properly, as I do, you must put in the effort.

It’d be like, “Good morning, sunshine!” as your calendar gracefully unveils the new day. You could even have it play some motivational music, like the Rocky theme, to get you pumped for the day ahead. Now that’s a calendar worth waking up for!

I pray someone will invent a calendar mechanism that will do the slow reveal automatically, like a precision Swiss watch. One can only hope. In fact, wouldn’t it be great if they developed a high-tech mobile version—whereby you could strap a tiny mechanical daily tear-off calendar pad onto your wrist?!

I have a bucket of random nuts, bolts ,and screws. Would you like to sort them for me?

You’re suggesting we go into business and develop the mobile tear-off wrist calendar ourselves? Brilliant! We’ll make $-millions.

I figure $10k should get us up and running. I accept Venmo.