JP, JP, JA, and I are all riding in JP’s car on our way to a company-sponsored celebratory ski day at Stowe. (JA doesn’t want to be there; he never does; but he must come because he is up for an award.) Along the way, JP stops for gas. While tanking up, I change all the fonts in and on his car to Futura.1 JP approves; JA derides the font the rest of the way to the mountain.
- Except, it wasn’t really Futura. It was perhaps Futura-inspired, but it had these giant, garish serifs. [↩]