Issue One

In my letter of resignation to my boss I am going to use the "Al Dente" font (I think it’s a bold look that reflects how I feel), and then add a skull and cross bones (that speaks for itself) from the "Way Out West" font. I think both styles of type will help drive home the thought that my boss should take her job and shove it. See, this is a millennium example of how to write if you don’t know how to write. Here’s another: To my lover, I will type using the "Giverny" font (its soft yet flowing appearance will remind him of something I won’t dare write. It has something to do with my body parts—and his) and then I will add one of those luscious, thick-waisted women from the "Cezanne" font collection who loll about looking as if they have just consumed a box of delicious chocolates—their tummies rolling like the two "n"s in Cezanne.

No more feeling self-conscious about what words you have chosen. The fonts that P22 designs will prop your poor prose up so no one will notice you said "lave" instead of love, "quat" instead of quit or "shave" instead of shove! The fonts will surely get your message across—even if you can’t.

At least, that’s how I would use P22’s vast collection of fonts on CDs. I know, I know, all you designers and record album creators and mug designers and poster writers are yelling at me. I can hear you now. And to you I say: You should learn to share the creativity! Remember that new/old adage, it’s not who you are, it’s what you wear? Well now, it’s not what you write, it’s how it looks!

This millennium is turning us all into spoiled computer whizzes, isn’t it? Like those women that Cezanne loved to draw so well–lazy, seeking nothing, just absorbing. I don’t have to do a thing except have an idea, and hope that someone thought it up before I did. As my friend said, "Who would have thought there was money to be made on fonts?" Not me. But I’m glad someone did. So, draw me nude in front of my computer, wallowing in the font collection of P22.

They’ve just secured Frank Lloyd Wright’s handwriting, and his designs will be available as—what are those things called? "Wingdings"? Did you ever think Frank Lloyd would be in the same sentence with "wingdings"?

Of course everybody in Buffalo already knows about P22, so I won’t bother to tell you about the grass-roots operation it started as. You know, owner-founder Richard Kegler’s thesis on Marcell DuChamp, and how he wanted to perk up his term paper with that famous handwriting. See? Even the founder of P22 knew that using the right font can influence people, including a professor. Would he have bothered to read the thesis after looking at those lovely characters? And that name! P22 means absolutely nothing. The 22nd letter being V would make it P-V. Or it could be 16V or 16/22. Trust me, I’ve tried all the variations and it still means nothing.

P22 is growing, and growing fast. It’s because of me that Richard has realized how successful the company is becoming. I was the one who told him that we barely fit in his office on Franklin Street. I mean, there were folders and boxes and things that made one think, ‘This is a busy company.’

Richard said that his inventory is shipped to museums all over the nation, and then showed me the album covers, magazine covers, mugs and postcards that his fonts have landed on. I guess designers and other artists love this stuff, but remember, we average-gifted people like it too. I found a P22 font on a poster at the Alleyway Theatre. And I have a business card that uses Da Vinci’s handwriting. It’s my hobby now. I seek fonts. I dream fonts. Yes, I have bigger dreams, but this dream is like the one where you dream about beds filled with round-tummied women eating chocolates: you may not need them, but you just gotta have them.