Episode 120 of Spark, wherein I discuss the ins and outs of printing ebooks with Nora Young, has just hit the Internet. You can listen to it online right now. Or, if you prefer, on your radio on Sunday, September 19th at 1:00 p.m. Atlantic (times may vary in your time zone; check the schedule) on CBC Radio One.

If you’re really keen, you can listen to the entire uncut interview (the one with all the swearing and gratuitous violence left in).

It has been brought to my attention, through intermediaries, that some senior members of the readership have come to feel that this weblog has become “all letterpress, all the time.” Sarcastic comments to this effect may have even been made.

While my initial reaction to hearing this was to mutter “well then, damn them all to hell,” and to install a 301 redirect to, say, TMZ.com, upon reflection I realize that there is some truth to this.

And so while I will resist suggestions to “go and set up a separate letterpress blog,” I will endeavour to inject more of the witty commentary about life’s foibles that you’ve come to expect here. And so, to that end, here are condensed version of the five posts I didn’t write this summer because I was too busy obsessing about Bodoni.

Meet the Staff Night

It was “Meet the Staff” night at Prince Street School last night (a wise re-naming from “Meet the Teacher,” as only 12 of the 40 people employed at the school are classroom teachers). Attendance was great: the gym was packed for the information session that started the night, and the halls were bustling for the classroom visits.

Truth be told, though, while we parents can, indeed, “meet the staff,” there’s not actually much opportunity for parent-teacher dialogue at this event: hard to discuss your child’s particular eccentricities while there are other parents and children milling about. It’s really more of an “open house” than a “parent-teacher conference.” Still a valuable exercise, though, if only because we parents get to meet each other, which makes morning drop-off and afternoon pick-up a more social time.

There remains a language barrier, however: two of the other fathers in Oliver’s class, for example, speak very little English, and so their back-and-forth with the teacher was limited to hello and good-bye and pointing out their homeland on a map; I hope to work with the Home and School to improve availability of translators for events like this to ensure that all parents have an equal opportunity to participate.

Hairspray

The musical Hairspray, now playing at the Confederation Centre of the Arts, seems to be on track for “rousing success” status. Certainly Catherine and Oliver enjoyed it when they attended the opening night performance.

While I understand something of the financial rationale for producing shows like this, it pains me to see the Centre’s playbill gravitating toward more “popular” fare as the years go on.

Not to suggest that the Centre should endeavour to product unpopular entertainment, but it’s getting increasingly difficult to see how shows like this help to fulfil the mandate of the Centre to be Canada’s National Memorial to the Fathers of Confederation.

When Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson spoke of “fostering of those things that enrich the mind and delight the heart, those intangible but precious things that give meaning to a society and help create from it a civilization and a culture” surely he wasn’t referring to shows like Hairspray, was he?

It’s not that Hairspray and its ilk are bad – they employ local musicians and artists and actors, they bring in dollars that support the Centre’s other activities, they bring people downtown into restaurants and bars – it’s just that it’s hard not to imagine what their presence on the calendar is replacing: if the Centre can mount a compelling musical about 1960s Baltimore, surely it can equally as well mount a compelling musical about, say, the Johns Hamilton Gray.

PEI Flavours

Here on the Island we’re now deep inside the calendar of events related to the Fall Flavours Festival and its season-long mothership PEI Flavours.

Both are laudable efforts – who can argue with tourism promotion that seeks to include the primary industries and encourages people to eat in restaurants and visit farms – but both efforts seem blind to an entire cross-section of the culinary landscape on PEI, the restaurants, many of them new in the last decade, clustered in Charlottetown, that broaden the palette of what “PEI flavours” can mean.

Within 5 minutes walk of where I write in downtown Charlottetown, for example, there are seven restaurants serving sushi, two restaurants serving Thai food, four Taiwanese tea rooms, a patisserie serving pan-European pastries, at least four places where I can get a very good shawarma sandwich.

While the food served in these restaurants is not “traditionally Prince Edward Island” – although it would be hard to argue this in the case of the shawarma, which has been a part of the Charlottetown culinary landscape for generations – it’s all food prepared by Islanders, much of it using the same local ingredients that are used in the restaurants that PEI Flavours does highlight.

It’s possible to spend an entirely satisfying week in Charlottetown without a lobster, potato or mussel touching your dinner plate, and that’s something that we should not only be proud of, but that we need to embrace, promote, and include in our collective definition of what “Island food” means.

Sound and Light Show (with less sound)

Last year saw the introduction of a sound and light show projected on Province House every summer night. And last year’s incarnation of this show placed a significant dent in the quality of life in our Queens Square neighbourhood: you could sit in our living room during the show and it was as if there was a 4 foot speaker blaring the sound from the show into our house.

This was not only an annoyance, but also caused “getting Oliver to bed” issues for us, as the sound echoed right into the window of his bedroom and the back of our house.

After I failed to get any response to complaints about this problem from Tourism Charlottetown and the City, I brought my concerns to the attention of Parks Canada, which manages Province House and, I reasoned, must be the ultimate authority on the issue.

I don’t know how and through whose good graces, but I’m happy to report that this season the problem has been non-existent: despite that sounds, when you’re standing in front of Province House, to be a mighty and booming PA, by the time you walk over to 100 Prince Street it’s but a whisper, and so the issue has ceased to be an issue at all.

So, whoever you are the the tourismocracy that switched whatever switches needed to be switched or repointed whatever speakers needed to be repointed, thank-you.

Island Newspapers

Longtime readers may recall the talk Working for Free that I presented at the reboot conference in Copenhagen in 2008. On of the “working for free” projects I talked about was the idea, first raised at a casual lunchtime conversation with Mark Leggott, new Librarian at the University of PEI, about digitizing the archive of The Guardian newspaper, a project represented in the talk like this:

I’m happy to report that this effort is well-underway now, and you can see early results at IslandNewspapers.ca. There are only 137 issues of The Guardian online there now, and there’s obviously some usability and design work to be done to make the resource truly useful, but what’s there is enough to show the huge potential this project has to transform Island history research. Bravo to Mark and his staff for pushing forward on this.

From the Port Explorer for Charlottetown from Celebrity Cruises:

USEFUL WORDS AND PHRASES English and French are the official languages of Canada. English speaking Canadians might use other words than Americans for certain things. Some examples include:

Canadian English - American English
pop - soda
chemist - pharmacy
boot - trunk of a car
chips - French fries

Only one of these, in my experience, is accurate.

The Celebrity Summit docks in Charlottetown for the first time next Thursday, September 23 at 8:00 a.m. with 2,100 passengers aboard. Through the generous arrangements of local travel agent Tracey Allen I’m actually due to have lunch on the ship.

If you’re anything like me, you’ve got a collection of Twitter robots, written in various languages, the push automated tweets for applications like @city_cinema and @casamiacafe using code that looks like this:

curl -s \    
     -d 'status="Movie tonight!' \
     'http://city_cinema:XXXXXXX@twitter.com/statuses/update.xml'

And you probably noticed, despite months of warning, that your applications just up and stopped working on September 1, 2010 because of Twitter dropping support for Basic Authentication.

And so you went and read all about OAuth and grabbed an OAuth library and tried to make your way through the thicket of conceptual leaps required to grok the new way of doing things.

And then you threw up your hands and cried “but all I want to do is tweet!”.

When you get to this stage, here’s what you need to do (at least if you speak PHP):

1. Install the PECL oath package:

pecl  install oauth

2. Go to the Twitter Developer site and register a new application. This will feel strange to you – “I just want tweet!” – but you must do it. You’ll need to set the “Callback URL“ to something, but as you’ll never actually use this, it can be anything.

3. Once you’ve added your new application, on its “Application Details” page you’ll find Consumer key and your Consumer secret; you’ll need these in a moment.

4. On the application’s “My Access Token” page you’ll find your Access Token and Access Token Secret; you’ll need these too.

You now have everything you need to tweet. Here’s the PHP you need to tweet it with:

<?php

$status = "Look, I'm tweeting from PHP!"; 
$consumer_key = 'XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX';
$consumer_secret = 'XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX';
$access_token = 'XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX';
$access_token_secret = 'XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX';

$oa = new OAuth($consumer_key,$consumer_secret,
     OAUTH_SIG_METHOD_HMACSHA1,
     OAUTH_AUTH_TYPE_URI);

$oa ->setToken($access_token, $access_token_secret);

$oa->fetch("https://twitter.com/statuses/update.json",
     array("status" => $status), OAUTH_HTTP_METHOD_POST);

?>

Of course this can be all prettied up and turned into a PHP class, and have error testing built in, but that’s the heart of it there.

After a lot of detailed futzing around – setting the type, justifying the type, proofing, correcting, proofing, aligning the bed of the press, adding a heading – here’s the latest print of the first sentence of Anne of Green Gables I created today:

It’s printed in 12 pt. Bodoni on Crane LETTRA Fluorescent White 220 lb. cover stock, part of a sample pack I ordered from Neenah Paper. I ever-so-slightly dampened the paper before printing – I spritzed some water from an old Windex sprayer into the air and wafted the paper through the mist. Here’s what it looks like up close:

I’ve very happy with the way this turned out: I learned an awful lot about letterpress in the process of creating it. And while there’s a lot of room for improvement – to start, I need to learn a lot more about justifying type – that this print came out of a press that just a few months ago was caked with decades of ink and grime, and that I had no idea of the workings of, seems like a minor miracle.

I must admit to complete ignorance of fashion (no doubt you already know this if we’ve ever met in person). When I last paid attention, “rugby pants” were all the rage. I’m still trying to figure out what culottes are. And spaghetti straps?

Here are the rules at Oliver’s school for what students and staff are not allowed to wear:

• Straps must be at least two fingers wide. No spaghetti straps.
• Full length shirts - no low cuts and no belly shirts.
• Shirts must not have sexual comments or inappropriate logos or graphics (ie. alcohol).
• Shorts and skirts need to be at least finger-tip length, when arms are beside the body.

I’m fascinated by lists like this because they seem so arbitrary. And so rooted in the 19th century conception of what’s proper.

It’s not that I’m necessarily opposed to the notion of regulating dress (although the more anarchistic parts of my brain are strongly so, I must admit). It’s just that if you’re going to regulate dress, why not do it with some moxie. Here’s what the rules at Pete’s Academy would be:

• No corporate logos on anything. At all.
• On Wednesday everybody has to wear a tie.
• No velcro shoes allowed.
• Dress shirts, if worn, must have button-down collars and be at least 90% cotton.
• Socks must be worn at all times, and must be lime green, purple, yellow or fuchsia in colour.
• If worn, t-shirts must be printed with slogans that express a strong point of view. About something.
• Yellow rain coats only; no green, no blue.

Back in the mid-1980s when I found myself bored with public school I flirted with the notion of going to Hillfield Strathallan College in Hamilton. While there were plenty of reasons to not do this – I flunked the “religious knowledge” part of the entrance exam, for example; and then there was the whole “cultural snobbery” thing – what pushed me over the edge was the school uniform. The day I attended the school open house happened to be the day of the switch from winter uniforms to spring uniforms, and the reaction of the students to this news – elation would not be too strong a word – told me all I needed to know.

Here’s the dress code at Hillfield Strathallan these days:

Proper school dress is a requirement for attendance and to encourage students to be known and recognized for who they are. It is the responsibility of the students and parents to know what the dress code rules are and to abide by them. If there are parental concerns regarding the suitability of an article of clothing, it is best to inquire of the Principal before the article is purchased and worn, to eliminate unnecessary expense, and to allow replacement of the article, if necessary.

The College standard of acceptable dress is defined
as follows:

all clothing must conform to College regulations
it must be clean and in good repair
it must be worn properly as outlined by the Principal

Students wearing temporary improper variations of the uniform must have an explanatory note from a parent and the approval of the Principal before attending class. Dress infractions are dealt with by each school under the supervision of the Principal.

School uniforms are required for all students during school hours, for special College occasions and by team members representing the school. Sweaters (Mondays) and blazers (Fridays) must be worn at Chapel except during the ‘summer dress’ seasons in early fall and late spring.

They are to be worn at lunch unless announced otherwise. Uniforms are not required for spectators at games in the evenings or on weekends. The beginning/end of winter dress times will be announced to the students.

Only new College and House ties are acceptable and student blazers, sweaters, polo shirts and golf shirts must feature the new HSC crest (shield and mottos).

Please note that ‘heely’ running shoes are not permitted on the HSC Campus.

Grooming

A general principle with respect to hair style, jewelry and uniform is that their appearance should be subtle and not extend to the point that attention is drawn towards the student’s physical presence. Girls’ hair styles must be tidy and of an acceptable style and length. Boys’ hair styles must be tidy and an acceptable length at or above the collar. Boys of an appropriate age must be cleanly shaven with the exception of Grade 12 boys who may, as a privilege, have neatly kept facial hair. Students will not be allowed on campus with hair styles out of keeping with College policy. Visible neck jewelry and elaborate, multiple bracelets are not permitted, nor are earrings for boys. Girls are limited to two small earrings per ear. Nose rings are not permitted

The dress code goes on from there over several pages to lay out the various uniform requirements of different grades for boys and for girls.

When you read dress codes like this, the Prince Street “stay away from the beer logos” appears positively progressive by compare.

For the record, as I type this I am wearing black jeans by Ralph Lauren, a button-down patterned Eddie Bauer long-sleeved shirt, black socks (by Joe Fresh) and a pair of black leather shoes, well-worn.

A decade and a half ago, when I was keying in data on hundreds and hundreds of crafts suppliers as part of my job at the PEI Crafts Council, I started to have repetitive stress issues in my right wrist.

After a series of failed consultations with general physicians – one simply told me to wolf down Aspirin and I wouldn’t feel the pain – I finally ended up in the occupational therapy department of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital where a cast was made of my wrist and, a few weeks later, I received a custom-molded brace for my wrist.

I’ve been using it to type with ever since, and it’s what has made the intervening years of my career as a professional keyboardist possible.

I’ve been back to the QEH a few times for tune-ups on the brace, but finally, after 16 years, it’s starting to wear out – the back velcro gave out a few months back, there’s a crack near the front – and I decided it was a good idea to find a replacement before it finally gave out completely lest I be unable to work at all.

Which led me to Barry MacKinnon at Island Orthotics this morning. Barry took a look at my brace, decided he could keep it working for a while longer but that he could also make me a new one (the snazzy new Velcro you see in the photo above was put on today). And so I was ushered into a side-room and after a few minutes of work my right arm looked like this:

In a week or so I’ll return to pick up my new brace, meaning that my career can continue should I accidentally melt or otherwise destroy my trusty long-time wrist companion.

Barry has a fascinating shop in the basement of the Polyclinic on Grafton Street, filled with grinders and benders and melters and all other manner of machinery that allows him and his staff to make everything from wrist braces to replacement limbs.

Today was the start of Grade Four for [[Oliver]]. The first day of Grade One seems like an eternity ago:

Several good friends from previous grades are in Mr. Doucette’s class with Oliver this year; a couple aren’t. Although he’s still in Prince Street School, the jump from Grade Three to Grade Four means moving upstairs, taking French for the first time, a new time for recess, and who knows what else. It’s an exciting time, and Oliver was in fine form, primed and ready for action.

From the Maysville, Kentucky newspaper The Evening Bulletin, October 3, 1896, I’ve come across “PRINCE EDWARD LAND: The Simple Capital of a British Province and Its American Visitors”, which reads as follows:

Charlottetown, PEI, Sept. 10. – This little town is cut off from the world in an aggravating way. The coast of Nova Scotia is in plain view along most of the southern coast of Prince Edward Island, but the transfer by boat from Pictou takes three hours, so it is almost as long a journey from Halifax to Charlottetown as from Halifax to Sidney, twice as far away. This fact and the utter absence of any picturesque feature on the island would make Charlottetown a place unknown to any but commercial travelers or insurance agents if it were not that a Boston steamship line has made this place its terminus. Once a week the big ship from Boston, which has stopped at Halifax and Hawkesbury en route, comes to her wharf at Charlottetown and discharges a shipload of passengers. They are chiefly from Boston and interior Massachusetts. Some of them are from New York and Philadelphia and even cities of the west. All have come for the sail. They don’t care a fig for Charlottetown. The chance to spend six days on the ocean with opportunities at several intervals to “get off and walk” for a change draws from 50 to 200 people from Boston every week. Many would much rather stick to their pleasant berths aboard ship when they reach their destination, but most of the passengers go ashore for the night. So Thursday nights are gala occasions in Charlottetown, and the greater part of the population gathers at the wharf. The people arranged in tiers on a bank that looks down on the landing, and they fight for position near the entrance to the shed through which the travelers must pass. What satisfaction this crowd gathers from gaping uncomfortably in the semidarkness at the string of commonplace men and women, satchel laden, filing out of the shed is comprehensible, I think, to none but a Charlottetown mind. That there must be some satisfaction is plain from the fact that the crowd is as great at the end of the season as it is at the beginning.

They have primitive ways of running a hotel in this country. When you register, the clerk assigns you to a room and waves you toward the stairway. You climb three flights of stairs and find your way along the hall to the room. The door stands hospitably open. The key is in the lock. This at least is an improvement on Halifax, where the keys, having no tags attached, are carried off by the guests, leaving the next occupant of a room no protection but a chair braced against his door.

Charlottetown surrounds Queen’s Square, an oblong strip of parking very prettily laid out. Facing the park are the provincial parliament buildings of graystone. Adjoining are the post office and the city hall. Beyond the post office is a long market, whose odors are an offense against the pretty place. Outside this square Charlottetown suggests nothing so much as a small county seat in Illinois. All the merchants of the town are gathered in two or three streets near the square, and their establishments are very like American country stores. All the sights of Charlottetown can be exhausted in half an hour, and the traveler welcomes the time when a blast from the steamer’s hoarse whistle warns him that it it time to start on the homeward trip. – Grant Hamilton.

After using my Adana Eight Five largely unchanged from the way it arrived on my doorstep, I decided it was time to see about making some adjustments to the press bed to get more even printing. I followed the instructions in the owner’s manual:

Your machine was fully tested before despatch, but should adjustments be needed to even the pressure, or to adjust for a lighter or heavier forme, this is done by the four impression screws. After making a number of such adjustments it may be necessary to square up the type bed. Slacken off all impression screws and renew the padding. A test forme should be set by placing four large pieces of type (24 point or over) one at each comer of the chase. Ink up and print as normal, but hold the handle down on its stops. With the other hand tighten the impression screws until they are touching the bed to the same degree, and the four corners print with the same density. This is not dilïicult to do if you work slowly. Tighten each impression screw a small amount at a time and then tighten the next in sequence.

The effect of doing this adjustment was dramatic: when I started the top two 24 point boxes I used were printed about 50% and the bottom two didn’t print at all. After 15 minutes of adjustement I had nice, clear impressions from all four.

With the press adjusted I decided to try printing the first sentence of Anne of Green Gables to see what the effect would be on a real job. Again, the improvement was rather dramatic: prints I made yesterday were faded and incompletely printed in many places; here’s what the print I made today (on HazelTree straw paper) looked like:

It still needs some work, but at least the work is the same across the breadth of the type. Of course being clear enough to read points out some glaring issues with the setting of the type itself: hyphenating that for example, or adding spaces around the hyphens in well-conducted.  Oh, and there’s that ths in the second-last line that needs its ‘s’ swapped out for an ‘e’. I’ll have to work on those.

But it’s certainly getting better; here’s a print on the same paper that I took before the entire sentence was set and before I adjusted the press:

I’m getting close enough to “real printed text” that I can see the end.