Clinton Township Newsletter

3 A u g u s t 2 0 1 8 Carol Beder's Loaves of Love Food Pantry Round Valley Methodist Church 30 Main St., Lebanon NJ 08833 HOURS: Second and Fourth Tuesday of each month, from 10am to noon and 5 pm to 7 pm Questions: Jim 908.447.7476 or Claire 908.703.1603 Donations of non-perishable foods welcome! NOW OPEN! Shades • Motorized Shades Blinds • Drapes Plantation Shutters • Awnings You Deserve Them! 908.236.2688 14 Lebanon Plaza n WindowExpressionsNJ.com While pursuing my BFA in Communications Design at Parsons, I was hired part-time as a "visual proofreader" at Forbes Magazine, conveniently located right next door to our school (13th & 5th Ave.). I put the title in quotes because the Deputy Art Director at the time just made it up. It was an apt description. Even though I wasn't allowed to design the magazine, all layouts had to pass my inspection to ensure they fit the Forbes format before going to print. This was a pretty heady experience at the age of 19. This job required me to be in the office two weeks out of each month, from 6:00 pm to 3:00 am (yes, you read that correctly) at deadline time. Those two weeks, however, were the most stressful of the month, culminating at the print stage. If you've ever worked at a publication, you might know what this is like. The process was pretty fascinating to me. As I can best recall, the system went like this: prior to those two weeks, the writers, some of them famous, submitted their copy to the art directors, who would then design the layout on their (now ancient, as this was the late 80's) computers. The text would be sent to the typesetting department, who would actually type it all into their professional typesetting machines. This method is now archaic, but at the time it was standard practice. The typesetters, usually all quite genial, could get a bit stressed at times. I remember a telephone (and not a small one) being thrown at a wall inside their office. The force was so strong that it caused a huge, glass-covered clock on the other side of the wall to clatter to the ground and shatter to bits – dramatic! I then had to retrieve the layouts and deliver them to the proofreading department. The proofreading department consisted of about 8-10 very nice people, trapped together in a small room, who looked as if they hadn't slept in three years. I don't remember seeing any of them leave. After the proofreaders reviewed the layouts, I had to deliver them to the fact-checkers, who mirrored those in the proofreading department in every way: 8-10 nice people trapped together in a small room... totally exhausted. They had something extra though: a constant air of acute anxiety. I vividly recall one of them appearing at my desk – the conversation went something like this: Me: "Wow Tim – I didn't recognize you actually standing up, and outside of your fact-checking prison as well." Tim, not laughing: "CAN YOU HELP US WE HAVE A MAJOR PROBLEM!!!" Me: "Sure Tim, how can I help you?" (looking at the layout) Tim: "IS THIS A 57' CHEVY OR A 58' CHEVY??!!! NO ONE KNOWS!!!" I think I tried not to laugh, but I'm afraid I was probably not successful. I think my response was something like: "Sweetheart, you're asking the wrong person." (In my memory, I sounded something like Mae West. In reality, I probably just said "Sorry Tim--I can't help you with that.") I imagine fact checkers today are relaxed and happy, now that they have the internet to easily help with these matters. After the fact checkers, I then had my own puzzle of making sure everything: the copy, photos and all artwork, fit into the layout. I would politely request that writers cut copy and had to call art directors in the middle of the night for important layout decisions, Usually waking both them and their spouse. Then, back to the typesetters, and it started all over again, through the night, night after night. Finally came the most exciting part: it was my job to call the printer in Loretto, PA and, after a bit of small talk, I was able to say the famous phrase, "Go to Print!" It would have been much more exciting had anyone been in the office with me at that point, but no –- it was just me and the white mice. As I left my desk for the elevator, I would notice that every time, the others had mysteriously and silently left the building, leaving me to take the elevator down to the lobby to wake up the security guards. Occasionally I would the descend down the grand brass-railed, marble staircase and exit through the Forbes Galleries entrance, just for fun. That is, until the one time ...continued on page 5

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