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Digging Into the Mailbag --DeWese

April 2002
I have just returned from the NAPL Top Management Conference held at the PGA National Resort in Palm Beach Gardens, FL. The weather was cold, windy and wet, and I caught cold. None of the golfers caught cold. I stayed indoors—but I caught cold. That's just part one of my bad mood.

Part two of my black temper is the practice of some conference speakers who generalize about the printing industry. You cannot generalize about this industry.

What applies to the business conditions or microeconomics of a half-size sheetfed general commercial printer does not apply to a long run, heatset web publications printer, or to a flexo label printer, or to a folding carton printer and so on. These segments are very different and can experience very different reactions, for example, to the same national economic conditions. Someday I'll write a book about the differences among printing segments and then leave it unpublished, since it probably wouldn't get read anyway.

The part three contributor to my gloomy disposition is that I am convinced someone has stolen my identity. I can't find my AARP card or my membership card for the Wayne, PA, Italian American Club, known to members as "The IAC." I can understand why some ne'er do well would want to be me.

Songs and Sandwiches

He can pass himself off as the Mañana Man at singles' karaoke bars for senior citizens or chow down on the meatball sandwiches at The IAC. I'm not Italian and only got the membership on a special dispensation because I took Italian in school and they needed more dues-paying members at $15 per year. The IAC card is one of those special coded cards that opens the front door, so now I have to sneak in the back through the kitchen.

I'm worried this impostor is going to break into the Printing Impressions Website, www.piworld.com, or maybe break the code for the PI master server and steal my columns. Or, maybe worse, once he's in the system, he might start submitting columns.

Attila the Editor hardly edits my columns before they are published, so "Mr. I Wannabe the Mañana Man" could actually win that Pulitzer Prize I have long coveted. Hey, buddy, I know you are out there and what you are up to. Why don't you just get your own life and mail my ID cards back to me?
 

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