Zeichen Press

Category: Tortured Soul

  • Man vs. Himself

    I was once one of them — an innocent amusement park customer. I looked down at them now, from the highest man-made point in Shakopee, Minnesota. I sighed and listened to the chug-chug-chugging from beneath our coaster — our lives depended on the integrity of a giant bicycle chain. Our open-casket hesitated for just a moment at the tippy-top of the steel summit — hesitated just enough for me to grasp the inevitable free-fall. And as we plummeted to our possible deaths, I screamed.

    And wet my pants.

    The End

    How old was she?

    Don’t judge me.

    Obviously, I wasn’t born riding a roller coaster, I was born screaming. And wetting my pants.

    *Hint: this photograph was taken close to the time of the event and **Double Hint: I’m not the baby.fran-dylan-taken-by-memaSpeaking of literary themes, there is a lot (not really) to dissect in this new (Holiday/Winter Season?) card:born-wearing-skate-3

  • Winter Preview

    The Winter Walk Home from school included two memorable rituals: Dipping our un-mittened hands in 25˘ Tom Thumb coffee (how old IS she?) and passing by a very high retaining wall.

    The wall held up the yard of our enemies: Two freckle-faced, red-headed brothers. These boys went to a Public School and as if that isn’t bad enough, they took great pleasure in tormenting me.

    I will remind you that this is what I looked like:fran-school-photo

    Why would anyone want to harm such a sweet creature?

    Armed with boulders of snow, poised-and-ready atop the wall — they would wait. Down Vincent Avenue I trudged: snow-pants under my plaid skirt, grease-covered hand-me-down coat, knit cap with sheepskin earflaps.

    Again, why would anyone want to harm such a sweet creature?

    I won’t tell you the ending.

    We had a dusting of snow the other day but I knew better than to break out the snow-pants and knit cap. It was merely a teaser, a preview, an appetizer, an AMUSE-GUEULE.

    Speaking of snow, here’s a new card: each-and-every-snowflake

  • Insomnia and the Woolly Mammoth

    I can’t wait until scientists clone the Woolly Mammoth.

    Some might call it reckless curiosity, I call it Vegas-style science. Implanting salvaged Woolly Mammoth nuclei into an unsuspecting Asian Elephant sounds safe to me — what could happen? 

    Meanwhile, I lay awake and imagine receiving (or not receiving) a baby Woolly Mammoth as a gift. thanks-for-almost-everything2

  • But Wait, There’s More!

    Bears have it best — fattening up and slipping into their Wintertime coma. I sit here, like a fool, planning my Wintertime Wardrobe — if I never had to shower, I would wear my neck to ankle long-underwear uninterrupted.

    I have Faith that Winter will eventually turn to Spring.

    In Spring, I will tear off my layers of long-underwear. I will bury my Smartwool in the backyard. I will shun my calf-length coat like an old boyfriend. (I can’t believe I was with YOU!!)

    In Spring, kids graduate from educational institutions. And because I am a Giver, I give you these: New graduation cards. Don’t be like, “Why are you thinking about graduation in October?”

    Just accept the greeting card calendar. ACCEPT IT.so-long-suckas-boyso-long-suckasdear-school

  • Your Marriage vs. The Zombie Apocalypse

    I’m not a lawyer or a scientist but I understand the importance of writing marital vows that contain language relating to soulless corpses.

    I know it’s not Zombie Season because the weather is cooler and I know the weather is cooler because the maggots in the garbage bin magically disappeared. The rash of zombie activity this Summer has inspired me to rewrite my vows — I simply cannot have my husband strip naked and eat my face on the turnpike.

    Give this card to newlyweds or oldyweds:till-undeath

  • Mating Tips

    The only way to find out if you’re truly compatible with another is to spend a year together aboard a Portuguese fishing vessel.

    Unfortunately, that’s not always an option. Don’t spend another minute agonizing!

    Forget the touchy-feely Relationships aisle at Barnes & Noble or (gasp) your local library! Forget the $120/hour couples counselor! Forget mind-reading, unmet expectations, behavior prediction!

    Zeichen Press has created a $4.00 cheat sheet! love-means-green-revisedCollect them all (there’s only one) and store them safely in a polished mahogany box. Tabulated by topics, like: Division-of-Labor, Apology, and so much more!

    *A Mating Tip Card and a BB gun make the perfect wedding gift.

  • Eating My Weight In Vegetables

    Did you know that the Arboretum has a pick-your-own vegetable garden? The signs were more intuitive than posted.smuggling-vegetables

    My latest health craze (the last one turned out not to be a “health” craze) promises an upward trajectory of boundless energy and crisply firing synapses. Kale, spinach, green chard, cucumber, celery, lemon, parsley, and apple in one glass.

    In one glass.

    I’ve learned that a bagful of smuggled kale equals one thimbleful of juice.

    One thimbleful.

    I wonder how many ounces I would be if I were juiced. Note to self: Juicing bodies would make them easier to flush down toilet.

    Look at these beautiful Dahlias and forget everything I just said:anenome-dahliasunburt-dahliaWeren’t those lovely?

    All of the flowers and vegetables inspired a Father’s Day card:papa-grayer

  • State Fair Inspired Christmas Cards

    Maybe it’s the Grilled Spamwichesspam-dandy

    or the Walking Tacos. Maybe it’s the 4-H Barn, full of homespun country talent.

    chainsaw-board

    Or maybe it’s the Birth Barn.baby-pigsHam!

    Perhaps it is a combination of these magical happenings. This yearly phenomenon fills me with such joy… such eager anticipation! There are visual delights to behold whenever the head is turned!

    It reminds me of The Birth of Our Lord. I bet the shepherds know what I’m talking about.

    Anyway, I shouldn’t question my inspiration.

    Here are two new Christmas cards:new-christmas-spiritgoose-ew-grab

  • Leather and Milk and Meat

    Every few weeks Paper Source orders the same poopy cards from us.sleep-eat-poop-orangecrapThis makes us happy because there is no faster way to evangelize than through a chain of shops that snakes its way through the country.

    Our message? 

    Isn’t it obvious by now? Spread (our idea of) letterpress goodness and joy like spackle into every dark crevice on this planet.

    No big deal.

    This card:u-r-useful-and-delichas nothing to do with fecal matter and so we were surprised (and delighted) to see it on our latest Paper Source order.

    Perhaps the following dream was a premonition?:

    There were no toilets — but there was a shower scene. The light over the C&Pc-and-p-shop-2012had become a shower head and I had become naked. I prayed that nobody would walk through (why didn’t I just lock it?) the shop door while I took my unnecessary (and might I add: gratuitous?) shower next to my printing press.

    But someone did walk in.

    subway-ghost

    I guess his name is Vincent Schiavelli. He was hiding behind the Heidelbergheidelberg-winter-2012with his cow. He wasn’t smiling. I woke up.

    The End

  • Nightmare/Retreat

    I’ve been told that it’s important to take a break — get in the car, hop on a plane, inject yourself with propofol — whatever it takes. I love free advice — remember when everyone told me to get my cat fixed? She did die but I hate dwelling on details.

    Anyway, I decided to take that break…

    Step one was important and involved shaving the dog.millie-wearing-a-wig

    This took about two hours because she insists on wearing the wig.

    Step two involved tuna-salad. That’s self-explanatory.

    And step three was spent poring over maps. This step was critical because, for some reason, I would be the person driving the car. “WHAT?!” you say. And rightly so.

    Yes, for two and a half hours, my passengers/prisoners sat with clenched jaws, praying for safe passage or a quick, painless death.

    Praise the Lord, prayers were answered, tuna salad was consumed, ticks were pulled, and screens were repaired.torn-screen-cabin

    It was only 24 hours, but it felt longer. If someone you love is diagnosed with a terminal illness and wants to make their life feel like it’s dragging on and on, send them to a place without flushing toilets — a place where you are forced to haul your own water to pour into the toilet bowl so the toilet will (magically) flush.

    The drive home was terrifying and I gripped the steering wheel like a scrap of wood floating by a freshly wrecked ship. If the other drivers on 35W only knew my fear, they would have given me my own lane and maybe a police escort.handsintheair