So, Christian and I are wrapping up a very successful (thus far) wedding invitation project for our friend Megan. Our gift to her for the impending nuptials, we’ve been able to work all the angles and arrange for a nice letterpressed invitation on great linen paper all for under 60 bucks (the custom plates were the most expensive part).
In design, projects don’t come together this easy; something always goes wrong, and since neither of us have done a print piece in so long (first time doing letterpress, too), we expected problems.
Not one happened.
Until today, that is.
In exchange for her services, we offered our printer a load of type that Christian’s employers were going to toss. By load, I mean a cabinet full. If you have ever moved type before, you know what a task this is. If you have not: picture a container about the size of a cigar box, or a wooden tray about the size of a lunch tray, filled with little boxes of letters engraved in blocks. Now imagine picking one of these up from the floor and suddenly, you’re on another planet with a much denser gravity than Earth. That itty-bitty box suddenly weighs 100 pounds because those blocks are made of lead.
Hilarity ensues for those watching two young men, huffing and puffing, transporting tiny boxes to the back of a VW Golf with as much effort as a weight-lifter doing a deadlift.
Afterwards, having filled the trunk with type and us rubbing our freakish, bulging forearms, the snaps come out:
“Ooohh man, that sucked.”
“I bet your forearms haven’t hurt that much since the time you got the Skinamax Weekend Preview when you were thirteen.”
It never stops…
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