Are non-Western cultures conversations peppered with trite, colloquial sayings?
Like, in Kapushi, Zambia (population: 26 people per mile) — does one friend say to another (in Kaonde) upon receiving news that their baby was trampled by antelope, “Everything happens for a reason”?
These condensed and optimistic phrases are woven into our chats and unless you are a hermit or deaf, we are all guaranteed to hear at least one per day.
Sometimes a man’s manliness must be recognized. Manly is a term often reserved for a lumberjack, firefighter, or bounty-hunter. A narrow and unfortunate caricature. Why not a goatherd? Or glass-blower? Or gemologist?
Anyman* that strides confidently into their chosen arena (office, field, arcade, classroom, rubber raft, bowling alley, butcher shop, grist mill) and owns it is, in my opinion, a beast.
Give them this small token: (They will grunt, nod, excuse themselves, and go into the bathroom to shed a single tear.)
*Did I make that up?
I’m talking about leap day. Don’t even bother trying to explain it to me, I don’t actually care. The important thing is that I milked one more day out of this prudish month.
Zeichen Press would be nothing without self-imposed deadlines (and cake) and our card-release was set for March 1.
It was a real pressure-cooker situation around here — and because I don’t have enough intensity in my life, I locked myself in the linen closet and reenacted Apollo 13’s return journey. Just me, my laptop, both cats, and toilet paper tubes. We got home safely, God Bless America.
Anyway, we can thank the ground crew (Kim & Fred) for jury-rigging up product photos:
There once was a Frenchman that could, and would, eat large objects. He ate them bit by bit and was able to digest bicycles, televisions, shopping carts, chandeliers, and even an airplane. This took patience and, reportedly, gallons of mineral oil.
Bit by bit.
This wasn’t some sort of performance art piece — he never meant for it to be a metaphor.
But he ate a plane.
Such deliberateness! I like to imagine that he carefully considered each piece as he pried it off and swallowed it.
Mister Eat All The Things (Monsieur Mangetout) could be an inspiring mascot for an economic philosophy.
I’ve been told that a printing press in the shop is just as good as three acres and a cow. We’ll see. WE’LL SEE.
Anyway, I made this card for the president of The Society of Distributism because he has a fancy book signing coming up — 150 lucky people will receive the card. Oh, and a signed book.
The Epilepsy Foundation needed a new look for their fleet of trucks and The Carney Group contacted me (via telepathy) to see if my brain was available to think of ideas. I’m not just a brain. Geez.
I rescheduled my ice-pick lobotomy and put on my thinking cap.
What if the trucks were bright red and had big white letters with a line like, THIS TRUCK CONTAINS TWO TONS OF HOPE??
Yes?
Okay.
Do I have to write the script myself? The script that tells the tale of an experiment gone horribly wrong — a pharmaceutical company hot on the heals of developing a drug that ends all pain and suffering forever??
The drug, nicknamed “Bozo” does so well in animal testing… So well, in fact, it is released to the general population of prison inmates.
Death row no longer feels like a death sentence, cold concrete cells feel like a day spa, “relationships” feel special.
Until… The unexpected “side effects” begin to develop… Oh, it’s too sick. Just imagine a zombie movie but replace the zombies with clowns.
Here’s a birthday card:
Every few weeks Paper Source orders the same poopy cards from us.
This 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:
has 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&P
had 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.
I guess his name is Vincent Schiavelli. He was hiding behind the Heidelberg
with his cow. He wasn’t smiling. I woke up.
The End
Yankee Ingenuity -> 525 Main Chatham, MA 02633
ANOTHER profile in that special series dedicated to bringing our readers biased reviews of shops that carry our goods.
I love a Main Street.
Someday, I will criss-cross this great nation in my (fictional) pick-up with my (fictional) Pocket Pomeranian and my (fictional)) beat-up Polaroid — snapping photos, capturing the quirkiness, the uniqueness, of each Main Street. These will make a great coffee-table book. A companion to my (fictional) Public Bathrooms Across America Book.
The Queen of Main Streets is in Chatham, Massachusetts. Cape Cod. New England’s Main Streets look like movie sets and Chatham’s Main Street is so adorable it should be wrapped in a blanket and burped.
Yankee Ingenuity carries Zeichen Press cards, so it seemed polite to pay them a visit.
(Notice my friend, Andy. Notice his t-shirt.)
Once inside, my Attention Deficit Disorder became acute and I put on my horse blinders.
I made my way to the counter and had a nice chat with the owner — she told me that her husband (an amputee) LOVES:
I bet because of the tricorn hat.
There were so many delightful treasures — here are a few that jumped out at me:
I would like a set of eight.
A shark puppet would help me work through my fears.
These little banks would help me save for my criss-crossing America road-trip.
That was fun. I mean, that was hard work. Do I have to hate something to write it off as a business expense?
There were three things needed for airplane travel with a group of (Shea) children (in the 1970’s):
1) Hubba Bubba
2) Mad Magazine
3) Air Sickness Bags
I don’t think there was ever a flight that didn’t involve one (or more) of us vomiting. Because of this, we quickly located our air-sickness bags in the front seat pockets before seat belts were even fastened.
My parents pretended they didn’t know us.
It was shameful (and a relief) to hand your vomit-filled bag to the stewardess. In those days, the airline logo was proudly emblazoned on each bag. But no more. Today, the bag is white! Who wants to throw-up in a white bag?
Not me.
I designed a bag that I can’t wait to get in front of the bigwigs at SunCountry. They’ll love it.
Our #1 Fan just joined us on The Cape
and I’m so glad he’s not a serial killer. He’ll be here for a few days and then we’ll have to say goodbye. I really, really hate saying goodbye. I hate it so much, I made a card:
Well, here I am, back on The Cape for some Rest & Relaxation. Sharks are the big news out here
(sorry, Andy) so I sent the kids right out into the ocean.
I told them that we need to make clam chowder and clams don’t clam themselves — so get to work.
I believe the following card captures the feeling of every citizen on our planet:
Why would I send that card/who would want to receive a card like that?
Um, I don’t know your friends and I’m guessing we all have at least one unabomber in our lives.
If Zeichen Press were a train, Jen would be the rails. She keeps the train going smoothly down the track, she keeps it from careening off — plowing into innocent townspeople. This analogy makes me the conductor — sweaty, with a cheek full of chewing tobacky and a headful of dreams.
Every Summer, Jen dumps her two boys off at Camp — she makes a thorough list.
But this year was going to be extra-special! SHE was going to dump the boys and hop on a plane for her very own vacation. I’m sure her list was thorough and her suitcase was packed perfectly. I’m sure she left nothing out and measured all liquids to meet TSA requirements.
She forgot one thing:
But this year was going to be extra-special! SHE was going to dump the boys and hop on a plane for her very own vacation. I’m sure her list was thorough and her suitcase was packed perfectly. I’m sure she left nothing out and measured all liquids to meet TSA requirements.
She forgot one thing:
Twice a year Zeichen Press releases a batch of new cards. Twice a year Jen and I hold a top-secret meeting in the Zeichen Press Headquarters and discuss which cards should be included in the release. Decisions are made, tears are shed, hair is pulled.
Printing took place this week and, luckily, the temperature hovered around 97°. Jen loves printing in a sauna. I stayed in the shop while she printed, it was an act of solidarity and I’m sure it did not go unnoticed. I sat on one of the metal stools because I wanted to experience what it was like to sit on a stove-top.
There are more top-secret meetings/fist-fights during the printing process. We need to decide which color paper to print the card on and (hold onto your hats) which color envelope to pair with the card.
Should it be a Green Apple envelope or a Berrylicious envelope?? These are tough decisions but we have to make them.
And don’t think that you could just do what we do, it takes nerves of steel and hearts of gold.
Here are the new cards: These are so amazing, they may melt your faces:
Nothing against seahorses — I’ll get around to writing about them one of these days. But for now, here is a card about a Victorian mermaid.
I think it could be used as a thank-you note? I don’t know… you will have to make that decision. These mermaids were less common than the typical topless mermaids.
While filling out the application for a small business grant from Chase and Living Social, something occurred to me:
Zeichen Press Headquarters is located exactly behind my house in a building some might call a “garage.” 
There. I’ve said it. I feel so much better.
It is 360 square feet of letterpress goodness. It is 10 tons of letterpress finery. BUT, IF we got that grant (would it be in the form of a giant, novelty cheque? I will accept nothing less.) we could expand … We could punch another hole in the leather belt of our business! We’d be that much closer to World Dominance.
We are in over 500 shops around the world. We have dozens of reps. We have distributors in New Zealand, Australia, and the United Kingdom. BUT, what if we were able to operate from a larger venue? … What if we could hire a big, hairy man to operate our presses?
Step 1) Go to missionsmallbusiness.com and click ‘Log In & Support’ and log in using Facebook.
Step 2) Type “Zeichen Press” in the search field.
Step 3) Click on the blue Vote button next to our business name.
Step 4) Weep, openly.
We need 250 votes (what?! That’s all??) to be CONSIDERED for the grant. How much is the grant?
$250,000.
Or whatever.
NO BIG DEAL.
Please vote — I’ve been starving myself so I would take up less space in the shop. I’m so hungry.
There was a canopy bed in my bf’s bedroom with a Holly Hobby theme. There was a room covered in pink carpeting, but not entirely covered in pink carpeting — one wall featured a mural of a day-glo leopard — when the “black light” came on, it was party-time. There were, at least, four fireplaces — a bronze peacock guarded one of them. In that room, there was an off-limits record collection. Ziggy Stardust confused and intrigued me. An indoor pool in the basement? Yes. Sauna? Check.
This was the Mary Tyler Moore house, circa 1980. AKA: Heaven.
You know, Mary Tyler Moore?! Once Laura Petrie, reborn as herself and the star of her very own situation comedy set in my fair city?
I haven’t been back to the MTM House since my friend’s family moved out, BUT one of my spies was just there (it’s on the market for a cool $3,620,000) and saw our Room and Board prints hanging on two walls. Now, I know: Not as cool as a day-glo leopard mural, but as Miley Cyrus would say, “still pretty cool.”
The Zeichen Press shop has a concrete slab for a floor and this — magically — keeps the room from feeling like a sauna until mid-July. Surrounded by all things letterpress, the air thick with a healthy wi-fi signal, and the temperature hovering around a tolerable°, I streamed some Netflix.
And while watching reruns of Portlandia, I bumped into this:
Powell’s Books.
I paused.
Could it be? Yes, it is! That little bookstore carries Zeichen Press cards!
We’re famous-ish!