If someone had told me back in 1977 that young men barely past their Clearasil years would be saying “What’s your major” to me at age 40, I‘d have said “No way!” Well..."way!” It was all part of my experience as a student at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh, where I took some non-credit courses in the summer of 2000. Here's what I wrote at the end of my first day of classes.
Die Nasty. Dream Orphans. Beat My Guest. Highway to Heck. No, these aren’t names of punk rock groups or titles of angst-ridden, teen-penned poems. They’re names of fonts. Four evocatively named fonts that co-exist among the hundreds of others in my Mac. Fonts that compete on a daily basis to be chosen for use in one of my literary or graphic masterpieces (ahem). I’ve rarely met a font I didn’t fall in love with. I’ve cruised the Internet super highways by night, luring new fonts to my harem. I’ve risked system contamination, blindly downloading free fonts from fly-by-night sites with seedy names like FontLust.com. Rogue fonts now reside alongside legitimate fonts that automatically enter the neighborhood every time I install new publishing software. Ah, but this indiscriminate font love now poses a major digital dilemma: I simply have more fonts than I can fathom.
In the early 1960s, The Beatles came off as cute and cheeky, while the Rolling Stones - marketed by manager Andrew Loog Oldham as the anti-Beatles - were perceived as snide and snarky. Here's a look at how these two very different bands greeted the public at Christmas time.
Okay, rock fans of the '60s and '70s, it's time to get brutally honest and swallow your hipster pride. Can you please admit you've heard of country singer Tammy Wynette? And, if you know the name, are you self-assured enough to admit you've heard, or even enjoyed, her 1968 chart-topping single, "D.I.V.O.R.C.E."? C'mon, fess up! It tells the syrupy story of a couple on the verge of splitsville, who spell out the "D word" so little J.O.E. won't understand. This tune was just begging to be spoofed! And the first one to do it was Billy Connelly - a wild and woolly guy with a funny accent who lived far across the pond in Scotland.
Guido Barilla, president of the world's largest manufacturer of boxed pasta, has vowed his company would never feature homosexuals in its ads. Well, when I heard this news, my thoughts immediately turned to Woody Allen's kooky 1973 film "Sleeper," which offered some insights into the virility-enhancing effects of pasta.