I was 21 and it was five days before the opening of my printing business. Instead, I spent those five days in hell, fighting to stay awake just to breathe. The doctor had withheld the respirator from me in a deliberate atempt to end my life.
Okay, so my plans to build my own house in the country, with horses, motorcycles, a motorized hang glider and a beautiful wife, not necessarily in order of desire, would be smashed for the moment. That won't stop me from trying. I've always been too stupid to realize when I'm beat.
Before I broke my neck in 76, I worked for Minutemen press in Haddonfield printing letterheads, envelopes, business cards and other business forms.
At the same time, I was rebuilding my own printing equipment nights in my parents basement. Knowing how to print, how to fix printing presses and not having a lot of expenses for starting a printing business would make it easier to make a profit when I started my own business.