Sometimes, we rule so hard it HURTS.

Like today, for example.

That's right, we're the Pick of the Day over at I Love Letterpress, a blog dedicated to all thing letterpress.

Yay! Yay us!

Up and coming

Can you judge a city's cultural progress by its buskers?

Why not? It won't cost you anything.

Anyway Saratoga Springs is the tony city to our south. Home of a thoroughbred race track, both a Gap AND a Banana Republic, and just truckloads of beautiful, WASPy people. It's where you go if you want to people watch, or eat something that's not served in a paper funnel.

Street musicians and performers aren't new there -- there's usually some college kids hanging out noodling around on their guitars hoping no one notices that they kind of suck -- but you don't need too many people to put a dollar in your open guitar case before you have enough money to buy some Oxycontin.

Last night, though, there were more performers on Broadway, the main drag, than I have ever seen at one time. Unfortunately, this town has a way to go before the quality of its street acts approach the likes of Burlington, Vermont (or, as they call it on the street circuit, "The Big Wool Sweater").

OK here's a quick review:

IRONIC ROBOT-DANCING DESTRO MAN: Guy in black turtleneck and jeans, wearing a black fedora, and a silver robot mask with flashing, red, LED-light eyes. He struck a "doin' the robot" pose, but only moved to another pose if someone put money in his bag. He had a hand drawn sign that said, "The tipping robot."

Might have been good shtick if there weren't a bunch of people gathered around waiting for him to do something. But a crowd gathered, and he remained still (because no one was tipping him). Then a little standoff ensued. The crowd wasn't going to tip him 'til he broke out some robot moves. He wasn't moving until there was money in the bag.

Someone gave in and dropped a dollar in the bag. And IRDDM moved for about 3 seconds, all ironic and robot-y.

It got a little ugly when the heckling started: "Let's wait him out," said one guy. Another guy said, "Dude, you need to tighten up your act a little."

NERVOUS COLLEGE KIDS DOING CELTIC MUSIC: At least they weren't blatantly extorting tips from people. They were having problem with their sound board so we heard a lot of crackling. Not very jig-worthy.

SOLITARY UKULELE MAN ON A PARK BENCH: And, I quote: "Plinka-plinka-plinka-plinka-fank-fank-fank. Plinka-plinka-plinka-plinka-fank-fank-fank." Repeat.

This is My Space...now get off the lawn

I thought I was too old to have a myspace page. But then I found out that all the young 'uns have migrated to facebook, instead, leaving myspace to all us older cruds. I was shocked at how many people I found -- in my neighborhood as well as old college friends and various other people I thought had dropped into a hole in the earth -- have set up pages.

So I set up a myspace page..."for the business." Yeah, "for the business." It's quickly turned into more of a personal page for me than a legitimate marketing tool. But here it is, anyway...

www.myspace.com/crookedspokepress

Be "our" friend. OK, my friend.

Happy customers

We love repeat business -- but when you're in the wedding industry, a repeat customer could mean something bad has happened, "Please join us as Ashley tries again to be wed in holy matrimony..."

That's why it's nice when people ask us to do some of their follow-up stationery: Wedding announcements, thank-you cards, that sort of thing.

We don't have any of those on our web site yet, but watch the skies...

Dogs suck (A-Team edition)

We keep the dogs in the back of the house when we're gone. If not, things get eaten: socks left on the bedroom floor, TV remote controls, chunks of furniture (I used to really love that armoire, now it is dead to me).

Oh, yes, and doors... Specifically the door that is supposed to keep the dogs in the part of the house that includes the kitchen, downstairs bathroom, and the office. It's a cheap, pine, bi-fold door that moves on a track screwed into the door jamb.

It is only useful as firewood now.

Here's how the dogs worked together as a crack commando unit so they can cause property damage and sleep on the Forbidden Couch:

Over the last three years, Roger ("Face" -- he's the Dirk Benedict of dogs) has patiently nosed the bottom corner of the door and chewed little bits off it whenever he could get his teeth around something. In time he has removed about an inch and a half of wood.

This is where Maddy comes in -- Roger is like the artillery that lays the ground work for Maddy, the forward infantry.

Maddy (played by the late George Peppard) gets her nose underneath the gap Roger deliciously created, and, through patient trial and error, became quite good at knocking the door off its track and breaking through to the living room.

How do I know which dog does which? I know it's Roger eating the door because he just does those sorts of things -- it's more his personality. Also there is frequently wood in his poop.

And Maddy is the expert at knocking down the door because sometimes Roger -- we should have named him Dr. Hawking -- accidentally closes himself in the bathroom. We will come home to find him waiting patiently behind the bathroom door (he hasn't tried to eat it yet) and Maddy will greet us in the kitchen, fresh off leaving tufts of fur and dog smell on the Forbidden Couch.