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Dynamite magazine was full of hard-hitting news for kids growing up in the 1970’s.

But the best part of the magazine were the centerfolds. I wanted the Hang in There! poster so bad. It would have looked sweet on my closet door – right next to my Jackson 5 poster.

Struck by nostalgia and surrounded by (more) kittens, I took it upon myself to recreate the magic moment of the earnest kitten:When I was all done forcing the kittens to perform adorable stunts, it was time to make videos of people reading Zeichen Press cards.

Let me explain: Beneath various cards in our online shop, there will be a link to a video of someone (it could be you!) reading the card aloud. Why? Because even the lazy and the ne’er do wells have a right to Zeichen Press cards.

I thought and thought about a Father’s Day card … This was a toughy. I don’t know why.

I’m kidding, I totally know why.

 Do I write a card about estrangement? About mistresses? No! This is a holiday to celebrate fathers! The fathers that hang in there and make their kids proud! I battled my demons and the result was:

The Best Father’s Day Card Ever:

PS: Jen said, “I was surprised. It was sappier than I thought you would do.”

Jen and I often look back on the birth of Zeichen Press the same way any mother looks back on any birth. Sure, there was blood and, yes, there were tears but there was another realization: there is a latex glove filled with crushed ice in my mesh underpants.

The first days of Zeichen Press were spent huddled around our Poco no. 0.

The Poco has a patent date of 1910 and weighs in at a mere 210#. That makes it the oldest and also the lightest press in the shop. It is, to date, the only press that has caused me (bodily) harm.

Ouch! That’s a doozy!

Never trip over, and land on, a cast iron press on the floor. I documented the injury because of the lawsuit that I’m going to file against the makers of that monster. I just have to build a time-machine and drive my Model-T to Chicago.

The first thing ever printed on the Poco was this:

I’ve seen better prints made with a potato. 

We outgrew that little baby pretty quickly and moved on to something I’m hoping to one day never catch my hand in.

Or if I do, I hope to have something sharp in my pocket that I can use to cut my mangled hand free.

The big UK order is just about ready to ship:

Will they think Zeichen Press cards are funny?? Will they appreciate the folksy, Midwestern humor?? I did my research

and I think we could use some more spankings and boobs. But who couldn’t?

Fred came over this morning (why was it snowing??) and showed me how to score cards on the Heidelberg. In exchange, I made him a mediocre latte and he spat it in my face.

I deserved it.

The rest of the day was just a blur of lugging boxes from the warehouse to the shop (the basement to the garage) and watching the Windmill do what it does:

I didn’t even ask Jen how she got all these boxes for New Zealand

to the post office. Maybe Henry the Dog helped her. Or Loretta, she’s pretty strong. I couldn’t help anyway because I was busy taking a sponge bath. Andrea says sponge baths are for 80-year-olds but I’d like to see an 80-year-old get into my kitchen sink.

No, I wouldn’t. 

The hot-water-heater decided it was time to rust through and I don’t blame it a bit. It really is the most boring household appliance. If it were a person, I’d hate it.

So, I boiled some water on the stove for my bath and as I squatted in it, I thought to myself, “I wish I had curtains on my windows.” and “Is this funny or sad?” I decided it was funny but only because the new hot-water-heater is coming on Monday.

There would be no Christmas cards – NAY, no greeting cards if not for Mr. Louis Prang.

There would be no Zeichen Press without Mr. Louis Prang.

Shut your mouth!

It’s true.

That’s why the biggest (only?) greeting card event of the year is named after him: The Louie Awards. We decided (it was a big decision because we hate rejection and it cost $65) to enter a card this year in the friendship/encouragement category.

There were nearly 1,000 entries and only three were chosen to be finalists in each category. All of my prayers to the Patron Saint of Greeting Cards (St. Valentine, of course) were answered.

The award ceremony is in May and I’ve already started writing my acceptance speech: “(Laughing) Is this really happening?? I can’t believe this… um… okay… I can’t believe I was even in the same category as ________ and ________! Wow… Such an honor… (stammer, tear up, brush hair away from face) Wow… okay, I had nothing prepared… “

And so on. 

Last night was our first monthly (WHAT? Didn’t I tell you guys that??) card folding party. Jen was noticeably absent. She was invited, she told me she doesn’t mix business and pleasure. Or maybe she said she tries not to see me more than she has to.

Either way, she wasn’t there.

Wine was drunk and 1,000 cards were folded:

You can be a part of the magic! Send me an email – if you own a spoon, have two hands, and aren’t planning to kill me – you can join us!

The weekend in pictures:

March means the party is over and Winter is the (very) drunk guest that won’t take a hint. Um, Winter, can’t you see that I’ve thrown the bottles out the back door and had the dog clean the floor?

That’s alright. I’ve called it a cab, it will be here in a few weeks.

Meanwhile, here’s a new card: