Friday. Well, actually I am glad it’s Friday, but too bad that I won’t be into Hatch until Monday. What the hell am I supposed to do all weekend long? OK, there is plenty to do–tomorrow I am going down to the Country Music Hall of Fame (which owns Hatch Show Print) with a friend. I suppose later we will have cheap beers and dance. That’s the name of the game ’round ‘ere.

My last blog post was a little strange, I apologize. I threw out all sorts of jargon that don’t make no sense to all y’all. It’s just that tha’s what I’m livin’ ya know. Let me recap:

Hatch Show Print kicks ass. It is my dream job (that was easy to find…). I am in love with the big ol’ wood letters. The 130-year-old type and cabinets. The thick dust that is probably lining my lungs by now. The weird smell of ink and mineral spirits. The hunt for the correct case of type. The bad ass posters that cover the walls, that are being pumped out fresh everyday. The staff is great–cool people and fantastic designers. Brad Vetter is the guy training us, and he is a lot of fun. He drives me home sometimes. Jim Sherridan is the man who runs the place–what a gentleman. If there ever was a southern man I could aspire to be, it is him. He is all business, and he is all about the people. And he actually cares about this silly tradition we call letterpress printing. Man, did I say that these posters are bad ass? Honestly, I had no idea just how bad ass they were when all I saw were reproductions in books or on the internet. Ain’t nothing. You have to see the real thing–the glossy ink on the thick, smooth paper. The crisp photo plates and the beat-up wood letterforms. I didn’t know letterpress could look so good! The stuff I had done at school was great, but it never had the definition or sheen of Hatch. Well, of course.

This cafe with free wireless internet is closing. Kicking me out. More to come soon.