So whatever became of all those forms we saw in the previous post? After their printing they were likely sent to this room -- the bindery -- to be stitched and trimmed into a finished product.
The above bindery photo also comes courtesy of Shorpy's Harris+Ewing Collection. Though at the time this photo was taken (c. 1910) DC's neighborhoods were mostly segregated, the workplace needn't be. The GPO served as a growth environment for many African-American printers, including several who lived in our house. Could this have been Duckpin Press' forebear?...
enlarged from top image
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Government Printing Office, Part 1
We're fortunate to live so close to what was once the world's largest printing plant, the Government Printing Office. Being only a mile away from the facility, it would be an easy commute if, instead of being occasional practitioners, we toiled full-time in the Black Art. Perhaps it was this easy commute that appealed to previous occupants of our house. Several GPO printers have called our house home, starting just after the turn of the 20th century.
Shorpy's Harris+Ewing collection has some great glass-plate negatives from the GPO's heyday. We favor this particular shot from the composition room. Note the endless pile of forms sitting in galley trays down the center of the photo. That right there is more type than we'll likely set in our entire life. We kinda get the feeling that the previous occupants of our house are looking down and smirking at our humble basement operation.
enlarged from top image
Shorpy's Harris+Ewing collection has some great glass-plate negatives from the GPO's heyday. We favor this particular shot from the composition room. Note the endless pile of forms sitting in galley trays down the center of the photo. That right there is more type than we'll likely set in our entire life. We kinda get the feeling that the previous occupants of our house are looking down and smirking at our humble basement operation.
enlarged from top image
Monday, May 3, 2010
Take My Ink — Please!
When reading up on one of my favorite comedians, I came across this little nugget on Henny Youngman via Wikipedia:
Makes perfect sense that the "King of One-Liners" would have started his career this way. It ended some 60 years later, fueled by his violin and jokes that make your dad laugh and your kids groan:
• I take my wife everywhere, but she keeps finding her way back.
• My grandmother is over eighty and still doesn't need glasses. Drinks right out of the bottle.
• My wife dresses to kill. She cooks the same way.
• There was a girl knocking on my hotel room door all night! Finally, I let her out.
• When God sneezed, I didn't know what to say.
• While playing golf today I hit two good balls. I stepped on a rake.
He grew up in New York City, and his career as a comedian began after he had worked for a number of years at a print shop, where he penned and published a large number of “comedy cards”—cards containing one-line gags that were sold at the shop. The comedy cards were discovered by up-and-coming professional comedian Milton Berle, who encouraged Youngman and formed a close working friendship with him.
Makes perfect sense that the "King of One-Liners" would have started his career this way. It ended some 60 years later, fueled by his violin and jokes that make your dad laugh and your kids groan:
• I take my wife everywhere, but she keeps finding her way back.
• My grandmother is over eighty and still doesn't need glasses. Drinks right out of the bottle.
• My wife dresses to kill. She cooks the same way.
• There was a girl knocking on my hotel room door all night! Finally, I let her out.
• When God sneezed, I didn't know what to say.
• While playing golf today I hit two good balls. I stepped on a rake.
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