|Poster © Alex Rogers (2014)|
Saturday, March 29, 2014
|Poster © Rhiannon Rasmussen (2014)|
Friday, March 21, 2014
|Poster © Evan Seuren, UNI graphic design student (2014)|
One evening she [Dame Matthews] saw one of the farm men [named John] steal a pound of butter out of the dairy and put it into his hat, at the same moment clapping his hat upon his head.
"John," called the Dame. "John, come here. I want to speak to you." John came, carefully keeping his hat on his head. The Dame ordered some ale to be heated for him and bade him sit down in front of the roaring fire. John thanked his mistress and said he would have the ale another time, as he wanted to go home at once.
"No, John. Sit you down by the fire and drink some hot ale. 'Tis a cold night and I want to speak to you about the kine [cows]."
The miserable John, daring neither to take off his hat nor go without his mistress's leave, sat before the scorching fire drinking his hot ale til the melting butter in his hat began to run down all over his face. The Dame eyed him with malicious fun. "Now, John," she said, "you may go. I won't charge you anything for the butter."
|Poster © Rachael Bair, UNI graphic design student (2014)|
Arriving at the dentist's office, he is only two minutes late, so he is surprised to see two others in the waiting room and several coats hung from the hat tree. He takes a magazine and sits down to wait. When the receptionists appears, she greets him as if they were merely passing on the street. As if she expects him to explain himself for lingering. He only says hello and returns to his reading. But she says he must have made a mistake, his appointment is for later that day. That makes no sense to him. He has the appointment written down in three places. Suddenly he remembers. I know what it is, he says, I have a haircut appointment! He leaves the waiting room in a good humor and runs to his barber. When he explains why he is late, the barber says, Well, you knew it was something above the neck.
|Poster © Travis Tjelmeland, UNI graphic design student (2014)|
When he [Albert Einstein] would pay his bill [at a flower shop in Princeton NJ] with his check I would save them. I thought the autograph was worth more than the check. When I had accumulated quite a few, Dr. Einstein telephoned and asked if I would cash the checks, so he could balance his check book.
He also offered to provide us with as many of his autographs as I wished.
|Poster © Aaron Van Fossen, UNI student designer (2014)|
Lewis's life was in a mess. But I was to have a marvelous summer, oblivious of his suffering. He never took a single drink while I worked for him; I remained in total ignorance of his history [of alcoholism]. I saw a surface that was gentle, kindly, boyish, and vividly entertaining. He treated me as a young friend, insisting that I call him Red. My work was fun. Taking his rapid dictation and reading it back to type it was like doing a crossword puzzle: I caught every fourth word with a squiggle of Gregg [shorthand] and had to figure out what went between. "If you want my autograph," he would dictate in a note to a fan, "you must send me a self-addressed envelope with a postage stamp on it"—chuckling at the idea that I would have to address an envelope and put a stamp on it to send the note.