The Tanek logo has this lower-case “n” in it that I knew I recognized from somewhere:
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Mrs. Meyers, Goof-Off and 2,500 pounds of love
That’s what the press looks like – and I always play that song when I gaze upon it.
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-33° in Brainerd
That’s where I am. Will I ever be able to get back to Minneapolis? Stay tuned.
And, just because I’m a little obsessed with the weather, I gathered some very important figures. - Record low temperatures in The United States of America:
State Temp. Date Station Elevation Alabama -27 Jan. 30, 1966 New Market 760 Alaska -80 Jan. 23, 1971 Prospect Creek 1,100 Arizona -40 Jan. 7, 1971 Hawley Lake 8,180 Arkansas -29 Feb. 13, 1905 Pond 1,250 California -45 Jan. 20, 1937 Boca 5,532 Colorado -61 Feb. 1, 1985 Maybell 5,920 Connecticut -32 Feb. 16, 1943 Falls Village 585 Delaware -17 Jan. 17, 1893 Millsboro 20 Florida – 2 Feb. 13, 1899 Tallahassee 193 Georgia -17 Jan. 27, 1940 Mauna Kea 13,770 Idaho -60 Jan. 18, 1943 Island Park Dam 6,285 Illinois -36 Jan. 5, 1999 Congerville 722 Indiana -36 Jan. 19, 1994 New Whiteland 785 Iowa -47 Feb. 3, 1996* Elkader 770 Kansas -40 Feb. 13, 1905 Lebanon 1,812 Kentucky -37 Jan. 19, 1994 Shelbyville 730 Louisiana -16 Feb. 13, 1899 Minden 194 Maine -48 Jan. 19, 1925 Van Buren 458 Maryland -40 Jan. 13, 1912 Oakland 2,461 Massachusetts -35 Jan. 12, 1981 Chester 640 Michigan -51 Feb. 9, 1934 Vanderbilt 785 Minnesota -60 Feb. 2, 1996 Tower 1,430 Mississippi -19 Jan. 30, 1966 Corinth 420 Missouri -40 Feb. 13, 1905 Warsaw 700 Montana -70 Jan. 20, 1954 Rogers Pass 5,470 Nebraska -47 Feb. 12, 1899 Camp Clarke 3,700 Nevada -50 Jan. 8, 1937 San Jacinto 5,200 New Hampshire -47 Jan. 29, 1934 Mt. Washington 6,288 New Jersey -34 Jan. 5, 1904 River Vale 70 New Mexico -50 Feb. 1, 1951 Gavilan 7,350 New York -52 Feb. 18, 1979* Old Forge 1,720 North Carolina -34 Jan. 21, 1985 Mt. Mitchell 6,525 North Dakota -60 Feb. 15, 1936 Parshall 1,929 Ohio -39 Feb. 10, 1899 Milligan 800 Oklahoma -27 Jan. 18, 1930 Watts 958 Oregon -54 Feb. 10, 1933* Seneca 4,700 Pennsylvania -42 Jan. 5, 1904 Smethport est. 1,500 Rhode Island -25 Feb. 5, 1996 Greene 425 South Carolina -19 Jan. 21, 1985 Caesars Head 3,100 South Dakota -58 Feb. 17, 1936 McIntosh 2,277 Tennessee -32 Dec. 30, 1917 Mountain City 2,471 Texas -23 Feb. 8, 1933* Seminole 3,275 Utah -69 Feb. 1, 1985 Peter’s Sink 8,092 Vermont -50 Dec. 30, 1933 Bloomfield 915 Virginia -30 Jan. 22, 1985 Mountain Lake 3,870 Washington -48 Dec. 30, 1968 Mazama 2,120 West Virginia -37 Dec. 30, 1917 Lewisburg 2,200 Wisconsin -55 Feb.4, 1996 Couderay 1,300 Wyoming -66 Feb. 9, 1933 Riverside 6,650 AND before we start killing and eating each other, we are entertaining ourselves by throwing boiling water into the cold air.
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0°, Hydraulics and a Hair Dryer
Why is it that the one time I leave my house something awesome happens?? Jack drove the Heidelberg Windmill down from Wahpeton, North Dakota this morning. Drove it right down to our fancy studio.
I’m in Brainerd not running around the house in my underwear and Jen is back at ZP headquarters. Who knew (Jack the mover knew) that the press was going to be delivered TODAY? Apparently, the hydraulic part of the pallet jack (not Jack the mover) didn’t love the 0°. I guess it was frozen and I’m no expert but that seems like a setback. Jen called me wondering where she could find a hair dryer. I don’t know why she wanted to style her hair but I’m not going to judge. Apparently, Jen’s beautiful hair did the trick because the new press is safe and sound in the SW corner of the shop.
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It’s ART!! DO YOU HEAR ME?? ART!!
Alphabetically speaking, Zeichen follows Warhol in the Room and Board dictionary. Andy Warhol and Zeichen Press sit side-by-side on the Wall Art page - I don’t want to speak for Mr. Warhol BUT I’ll bet he is thrilled with the proximity… This might be just the thing to jump-start his career… Good luck, Andy!! You weird, prolific little man!!
So, back on the R&B website – here’s what the description DOESN’T say:
Produced entirely by hand using
vintage (super old) printing equipment,
Zeichen Press creates this letterpress
design exclusively for us in their
Minneapolis studio. Actually, they call
it a studio but really it was once the
family garage – an issue that nearly
cost the owner (Fran Shea) her marriage,
and more importantly, the garage.
I mean, studio. Using a centuries-old
manual printing method, they set salvaged,
antique type by hand in limited print runs
to give the work a one-of-a-kind quality
that feels both modern and classic.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
They edited that copy down to the nub! But I suppose they know best.Have a look at these photos: GASP! They make me want to buy one of my own prints!
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The strong would survive the winter. The weak would, of course, be eaten.
The Long Winter is the true tale of a Minnesota family surviving one of the most brutal Winters in our recorded history. Trapped in the house – day after day after day – the blizzard makes it impossible to see out the window or even walk out to the barn without getting lost. Good ol’ Pa rigs up a rope to follow, he is always coming up with some creative solution! Ma follows that rope because Pa finds himself trapped in a ditch by the creek. The wood pile dwindles to nothing and the family is forced to twist hay into little bundles – they would burn these in the cast-iron stove to heat their little house. … Tough, brown bread is the only food left to eat.
Or is it?
What if that was on the jacket flap? I’d totally read that book.
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The calm before the sh*t storm
One of my stalkers used to say, “I’ve gottalotta things in the hopper. A lot. In the hopper.” I often wondered if one of those things in the hopper was making a skin suit out of me. But I never asked – I love surprises. He once chased me on roller skates. I wasn’t even scared. Now, the cab-driver… the stalking cab-driver, he was a little scary. Although… he’d drive by an Old Country Buffet and was so high he’d often forget he was stalking me. He just couldn’t resist the chicken-fried-chicken.
But enough of these bedtime stories!
WE’VE got a lot of things in the hopper: A Logo, Oscar-luncheon-gift-bag-goodies, a show at a gallery, a speaking engagement in front of pre-schoolers, a bat mitzvah invitation, more stupid catalogs. I’m nervous about the speaking engagement. If I make eye-contact with any one of those children they’ll own me. The last thing I need is a room full of kids throwing lead type at my head.
In preparation for the upcoming events I decided that someone should clean our little shop of horrors. Someone did. Isn’t it cute? *Note the framed photo of Kelly Clarkson next to the hanging hammer.
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Won’t you be my neighbor?
Hot Plate‘s Mexican Omelette was again sending me messages. Who am I to ignore them? I just do what I’m told.
Exhausted from an earlier outing, I had my husband drive our team of horses. I was cozy warm because I stuffed hot potatoes in my pants.
While I devoured my second Mexican Omelette of the week I chatted with owner, Carrie Lewis. She told me a tale. A tale that reminded me of how dark the soul can be… a tale of the flawed nature of humanity. I openly wept as she about her passive aggressive neighbors. And, as I sipped my 9th delicious latte, I formulated a plan: I would counter the negativity directed at The Best Restaurant on the South Side by channeling the Prince of Peace, Mr. Rogers.
Who better to handle bad neighborhood karma than him? I can think of no one. I have created this card and will be making a plate asap. Reserve one (or five) today because they will be selling faster than Hot Plate’s pumpkin pancakes.
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May my suffering bring you joy
Only my fellow Minnesotans and residents of Chicken, Alaska can truly understand what it means to be cold. I am intrigued by deadly weather. Cold that can freeze a limb solid. Cold that flattens your car tires. Cold that makes your eyeballs feel funny. I braved the extreme cold today.
Twice.
-21° is COLD. But a Mexican Omelette was whispering my name with such longing… I put on every bit of clothing I own and headed outside. The car actually told me to F – Off. I reminded it that we were both in this together and that if it cooperated I would fill it up with Premium Gasoline. Foolish car, choosing gasoline over Mexican Omelette!
When I was safely inside of Hot Plate I laughed… Oh, how I laughed – and saluted the outdoors for being a worthy adversary. Later that day (that SAME day) I went outside again. I actually ran to the studio. It took 1.5 seconds. Luckily my exposed body part (my bottom) was unharmed.
Where was I? Oh, yes. I risked my limbs (and bottom) to run to the studio and lay out previously written cards. Three birthday cards. The metal type was awfully cold. I wanted to lick it but I exercised restraint.
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Back in the shop
The low magenta toner has put a hold on the catalog production. I am really, really upset about it. I’d like to spend more time with the new laser printer. Understanding its quirks, its likes and dislikes. What makes it get out of bed every morning? Does it enjoy being my slave? Don’t worry, Brother HL-4070CDW – this is only temporary. Jen paid the extra $3.99 for shipping and your toner will be here Wednesday. Thank you, Jen. I mean it.
So I spent the day in the shop. Despite my tears I was able to lay out some previously written cards. I think the anguish really comes through. I am, after all, an artist. My soul is appropriately tortured. Whoa is me.
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Where’s my unpaid intern?
WHERE??? If I have to work on this catalog layout for 10 more seconds I’m going to quit my job. I will instantly rehire myself just so I can quit again. This could go on for days. Of COURSE I couldn’t just work with the catalog copy in Adobe InDesign – I HAD to use a WWII era typewriter. A Smith-Corona Skyriter to type in each individual bit of information about all 100 products. What is wrong with me?
I actually cheated in “keyboarding I AND II” in high school. Don’t ask me how. DON’T ASK ME.
Jen is just dying to say, “I told you so.” Just shut up, Jen. Why must you take the place of my underdeveloped sensibilities?
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Waist-deep snow
Day Two. Snow fell through the night and drifted into the passage. The women and children are weaker today. Kenneth is ailing and must be dragged on a make-shift sledge. Robert appears to be delusional and only can speak of thick-cut bacon and death metal. The dogs are starting to look delicious, especially the fluffy one. We are, most certainly, in a predicament.
Um, here’s a new card – inspired by the men, women, and children that ventured West .
The Donner (Birthday) Party
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I’ll tell you what
Uh. December is, like, over. I don’t even care. Good riddance you ungrateful pig. You think you’re so great with your Christmas and your Hanukkah and your Britney Spears’ birthday. I’ve had it. I think we all have. Even with all of these Feast Days I managed to squeeze in our long-awaited catalog creation. And don’t think I forgot about my 25-birthday-cards. Self-imposed deadlines are the only way to get anything done. You know what else works? Pretending someone is going to kill you if you don’t get something done. SO, I scrounged up some images and wrote some lines. Yeah, yeah – I’ve not set the type or done layouts or pulled any proofs – mere formalities. And anyway, my shop elves will do it while I’m ringing in the New Year in lovely Brainerd, Minnesota. Here are a few images/lines – they’ll be 15% funnier after I’ve had my way with them. And another thing: they’re not all birthday cards. I’m not some sort of one-trick pony.
You make this, you live.
Good luck.
Shhhh. Nobody’ll even notice us.
Eh? What’s that? Whose birthday? Who are you? Get out of my room.
Happy Birthday, you tool.
…and in conclusion – quit calling me a pussy.Sincerely,Pevenshire Wiffynuts
x=get me the f*ck out of here.
Congratulations.I said, CONGRATULATIONS!
If you’re old enough to remember this game
you are probably sitting in your own urine.
Thanks for coming to my birthday party, my tiny friends.Alright, that’ll do. I’ll post more after the elves work it out. Oh, and if you see a woman running around Brainerd in giant underpants and Sorel Boots it’s not me. Happy New Year!!! -
No-Coast and a stock pot
Good Lord, what a day! I got up at the crack o’ eight – Jen picked me up and brought me to the MidTown Market to hawk our goods. It was the No-Coast Craft-o-Rama! We were pretty much SiameseTwins – due to my crippling Math Anxiety, I can’t be left alone to make change for a twenty. I welcome your prayers. I smiled lots and said, “four dollars” or “five dollars” whenever I felt like it. Sometimes it was in response to a customer’s question. Here are some customers: notice their intense cheerfulness:
I did manage to step away from our table to find a crinkly cat bag for My Mother-in-Law. She’s gonna frickin’ love it. Those cats are gonna thank me by walking by me and not noticing I exist. It’ll be one awesome Christmas.…Fast forward, like, eight hours and I found myself at a delightful Holiday Party. I think it was in Plymouth. Anyway, the halls were decked, the booze was flowing. The booze was flowing. In retrospect, I don’t think it all wanted to be in my body. I’m not sure why, at the time, I thought it did want to be in there. And honestly, there wasn’t a lot of room, what with all the spanakopita . I was planning on giving it all up in a stock pot that Katie generously donated to the car. I felt the love. I did make it home, with a clean stock pot, and Kenny dumped me into bed. He was like a hunter and I was like a deer carcass. The bed was the pick-up truck. It was so much fun. I dragged my sorry arse out of bed this morning to for churching. The stock pot is a symbol of one woman’s redemption. So much can happen in a day.
PS: Did you know that 80’s glasses are back in style?? You crazy kids!
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SO. MANY. WORDS.
Three 10″x15″ iron chases locked up with Touchpoint Buzzwords. Buzzwords and some other random cuts from the ZP collection – including a chunk from a newspaper insert advertising handy items for the ladies: A rubber-lined shopping bag available in gay plaids, a multi-tiered clothes hanger, a cap to protect the hairdo. What I wouldn’t give to have those items. My drab, rain-soaked groceries… My closet, crammed full! How could I be hanging my clothes on ONE plane? My hair, My God, my hair… I don’t even know where to start. I get a “do” and leave it completely unprotected. It’s like I don’t even care! Oh. Back to the Touchpoint Holiday Card/Disc Sleeve. It’s super sweet:
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SO. MANY. WORDS.
Three 10″x15″ iron chases locked up with Touchpoint Buzzwords. Buzzwords and some other random cuts from the ZP collection – including a chunk from a newspaper insert advertising handy items for the ladies: A rubber-lined shopping bag available in gay plaids, a multi-tiered clothes hanger, a cap to protect the hairdo.
What I wouldn’t give to have those items. My drab, rain-soaked groceries… My closet, crammed full! How could I be hanging my clothes on ONE plane? My hair, My God, my hair… I don’t even know where to start. I get a “do” and leave it completely unprotected. It’s like I don’t even care!
Oh. Back to the Touchpoint Holiday Card/Disc Sleeve. It’ super sweet:
Touchpoint Cd Sleeve 
Touchpoint Cd Sleeve 
Touchpoint Cd Sleeve 
Touchpoint Cd Sleeve