This post is long overdue. In the frenzy leading up to and following our trip to AWP, we have neglected to document the true champion of Idiots’Books, officially known as the Sub-Commander for of Peripheral Idiocy, unofficially known as Don. Don is a subscriber and long-time supporter of the Idiots. He is often the winner of the original art auctions and is the subscriber with the best attendance record to Idiots events. When it’s all said and done, Don will be the one that the biographers go to to get the inside scoop. The rest of Don’s life is mysterious to us, but we are under the impression it involves occasional jet-setting and a few too many cats.
In order to actually make all of the books we needed to make for AWP, it was clear, in the periphery, that we needed some help. And so Don volunteered to come down the weekend before the show and spend his day making books with us. This shows just how much of an Idiot he is.
Little did he know that he would be spending hours on the cold cement kiln room floor, flattening staples with a hammer:
Though he looks triumphant in this photo, the stack of books in the foreground are the ones he hasn’t finished yet.
I chose not to take an “After” photo on the grounds that showing grown men crying on a blog only works if they’re famous and manly. Two things that Don (by his own admission) is not. Sorry Don. You said it first. If it’s any comfort to you, you probably have more testosterone than Matthew (who can’t hammer staples at all anymore because it “hurts his elbow”).
After the hammering, there was some brief instruction on punching – and being a quick study, Don took over that entire portion of the operation.
If any of you AWP-ers bought a copy of Ten Thousand Stories or After EverAfter, then Don definitely was the one who punched the binding for it.
While Don was doing all this work, I had to score covers for Understanding Traffic, which might just be the worst job there is to be had at Idiots’Books. Which is why I get to do it.
It involves running the scoring wheel back and forth across each cover 4 different times in sets of 6 or 7 scores each. This is probably gibberish to most of you, but some day I’m going to buy my own scoring press, and this will make me a very happy woman. Such is the stuff of dreams.
While all this was going on, our children were, as always, neglected. Kato took his meals in the studio:
while Alden pretty much starved and tried to keep her mind off of her misery by “building fences”:
… presumably to keep herself as distanced as possible from the likes of us. I’ve heard we should get used to this.
When it was all said and done (what does that mean, anyway?), the studio was a disaster:
… but we were so happy and relieved to have a huge stack of books behind us.
(Note: Don is so productive that he even managed to knit us each a scarf between hammering and punching. Go Don!)
Anyway. This is all to say we couldn’t have done it without Don. So THANK YOU, Don. And for all of you other subscribers out there, stop sitting on your hands and pony up! You think your $60 pays for books?! NO! It pays for a piece of the EXPERIENCE. Which means YOU could come here and staple and hammer and trim and punch and put together your very own subscriber book while we sit back and sip our $60 mochachinos. But if you’d like an official title, you’ll have to knit us a couple of scarves, too.
Hmm . . . .
It’s on!
Hail to thee, Don!
Gasp! GASP! I literally gasped when I saw the title of the post. That’s ME! Wow. I am flattered. And honored. And neither famous nor manly, fair enough. Also, I’ll take orders for scarves.
*NOTE* NO SUB-CONTRACTING DON to make us scarves in order to earn your own official title. You have to do it with your own two hands. (Knitting needles allowed).
Robbi: I think you need to relax. Don was just trying to drum up a little business. If we actually paid our Sub-Commander, we might have a more defensible position in prohibiting his working for others. As it is, I hardly think it’s fair to begrudge the guy a buck. He has to eat, after all.
Preferably Hawaiian pizza, followed up with cheesecake with a delicious chocolate raspberry sauce.
Correction: I am the Sub-Commander OF Peripheral Idiocy, not FOR. Then my acronym would be SCFPI. And that’s just lame.
Don: CORRECTED. I can’t believe I let this happen. I do apologize. We will send back the brass nameplate and have it redone. Thank you for your close attention to detail (crucial to being a good SCOPI).
Ming: Never fear! The Ming love will be coming soon.
OMG. He knits a couple of scarves, makes a mess of your studio, neglets The Offspring and does something ‘manly’ with staples and all of a sudden he has a special title? I have a special title for him too. Perhaps not for a wholesome blog such as this. Whilst impressive, the scarves can’t compete with the boy-next-door freshness of those found in GAP. Although if his help means that I get my next book faster then I’m all for using his free labour.
I have Don’s cheesecake order in my freezer…THAT’S how close I am to him, just saying if he was famous, I am one cheesecake away from him. Jealous? Ya’ll should be.
9+14? Simple math problem?? That goes above 20 (I think).
Guess my math was right as my comment went through…
8+7? Much Better.
Speaking of a post that is ‘long overdue’, perhaps the Sub Commander of Peripheral Idiocy could also be put in charge of posting the answers to the most recent Matthew Draws competition? I would gladly send him a Hawaiian pizza in return.
Peter: Alas, the honorable SCOPI does not know the answers to Matthew Draws. Only I do. And as every day passes, the burden of guilt at having waited so long to post them grows more and more oppressive. I apologize to all of you who endure the nightly torment of having to go to sleep not knowing the actual names of those brutalized by my awful drawings. If I say I will post them very soon, will you believe me?
I will. And if you do in fact post them soon, then maybe I will send you a Hawaiian pizza.
Peter: The mysterious forces that created this world never intended for ham and pineapple to commingle atop a bed of cheese and marinara. There is no greater deterrent to my posting the answers to Matthew Draws than the prospect of having to eat Hawaiian pizza upon doing so. Come up with another incentive. The thought of eating sawdust is more appealing.