Hey, write this down …
Oh, that’s right. You’re at Typecast Press. Nothing to write on.
Hmm. Uh, Shop Boy will find you a sheet of paper. There’s one here … someplace.
There was some over there just the other day — nope. That’s for gift tags, etc. That stuff? Are you kidding? Do you know how much your little deckle-edge scribble would cost? And that other pile is packing for the platen. Leave that where it is. Wait! Don’t touch that. It fell under the press and got oil on the corner. You’ll spread it everywhere.
OK. Here you go.
Yes, Shop Boy knows it’s a. It’s that or the back of your hand, pal.
Now, take this down …
A pen? What does this look like … a stationery store?
Letterpress List No. 77
Yes, Shop Boy gets a bit frustrated at the lack of note paper within easy reach at the printshop. Mary’s got a system that works for her. Darned if I know what it is. Shop Boy’s nearly messed up a job or two as, being given information over the phone, I grabbed for the top sheet on a pile only to realize just in time that, yes, it was a wedding invitation-to-be. So, while we’re casting about for an unclaimed sheet of paper, how about a little music to search — or wash ink off the back of your hand — by?
Little Red Book — Ted Nugent (Stationery? Burt Bacharach? This is not the Nuge that Shop Boy knows and loves — even had him write an essay for me in my real job a couple of weeks ago. It was like Beatlemania in my office when he agreed.
True story: I dragged Mary to Ted Nugent’s concert here in Baltimore. We walk in, and the stage is filled with machine guns. And here comes old Ted waving them around. The crowd is rough and ready. And he’s egging them on. The whole concert, Mary insisted we stand by the back door, just in case. We ended up leaving early to go get Mary a soothing cocktail. That man likes his guns. Shop Boy? More a First Amendment guy than a Second Amendment dude. In other words, if you can say it like Ted does, Shop Boy might not agree, but he’ll listen.
Words – Missing Persons (I used to think as a very young man that this singer, a Playboy bunny, was quite hot. Now, under Mary’s tutelage, I recognize her as fake, airbrushed and shallow. I feel dirty. Thanks a lot.) – Marie Osmond (Ditto. ;-) )
You’re Speaking My Language — Juliette and the Licks (Rules. Her and the Nuge … great double bill that would be. Maybe she could borrow his raccoon tail. Ooh.)
Paper Planes — M.I.A. (The Nuge will like this one.)
The Letter – the Box Tops (She wrote me a letter … on a paper towel.)
Take a Letter Maria – R.B. Greaves (Don’t use the Crane’s!)
Girl Don’t Tell Me (You’ll Write) — Beach Boys (Don’t wait by the mailbox, bub.)
– Van Halen (“I got my pencil… gimme something to write on, man.”)
Original Prankster — the Offspring (The joke’s on you.)
Feelgood Inc. — Gorillaz (Awesome. Can’t write that enough.)
Paper Bag — Fiona Apple (She looks oddly … merry here. Not like her at all.)
Every Day I Write the Book — Elvis Costello (That’s a lot of sheets, fella. Where’d you find them?)
Kiss My Glock – Ted Nugent (And order is restored.)