Howie, Yearbook & Oprah

While I struggle to get Oprah to notice me and my book, Howard the Shelter Cat has developed his own fan club of sorts. Several people asked about Howard after he was absent from my last few posts. One reader even went so far as to say Howie was the best part of my posts.

Seriously? (You can just imagine what that did to my self of steam.) Mr. Howie the Fur Ball gets better reviews just because he's big and orange and purrs? 

If I thought it would get me on Oprah, I'd dye my hair orange and wear little blue soft paws. Hails bails, I might even throw in a purr or two.  

Don't get me wrong, I love Howard the Shelter Cat, but let's objectively examine Howie's contributions to society and the Richie household…

Howie the Gardener–Howard the Shelter Cat prunes the not-so-lucky bamboo plant (aptly named as it is Lucky Bamboo Plant Number 3) by chomping on its leaves. All of which means I probably will be in the market for Lucky Bamboo Plant Number 4 fairly soon.

Howie the Yogameister–Howard the Shelter Cat likes to assist my husband as he goes through his morning yoga stretches. Howie and all three dogs–the Golden Retriever, the Belgian Sheepdog and the German Shepherd–like to simultaneously do the down dog pose on the 24-inch-by-68-inch yoga mat with my husband. Talk about space issues.

Howie the Emergency Evacuation Planner–Howard the Shelter Cat likes to devise ways to keep my retired husband on his toes while I'm away at work. Things like popping out the second floor window screen to practice his "exit strategy" and to make my husband rescue him from the roof top.

Howie the Shredder–Howard the Shelter Cat likes to tear up paper. While any sort of paper is fair game, Howie seems especially fond of ripping up all things yearbook related.

Hmmm, perhaps, Howard the Shelter Cat does deserve his own fan club after all. 

We could call it the "Wowie Zowie Kowie Let's Hear It For Howie Fan Club."

With my luck, Howie will probably even get invited to meet Oprah.

High Fives, Hand Shakes & Gloves

Initially I planned to blog about our most recent newspaper deadline as well as my yearbook disaster that now requires re-PhotoShopping some 80-plus pages. But all those fun-filled stories will have to wait--all because of a recent post from my across-the-pond buddy Sarah Ebner over at the London Times entitled, “High-five your pupils everyday, teachers told.”

I must say that little ditty sent me into quite a tizzy. This little post talks about how greeting children with high-fives or handshakes will motivate students and improve test scores. I feel semi-qualified to screech about this having been victimized more than once from professional development sessions telling me to shake kids’ hands, capture their hearts, and, if I remember correctly, do something with their minds. Oh yeah, teach.

This handshaking notion started a number of years ago. I believe the folks that started it must have had stock in Bath & Body Works because I’m convinced sales from hand sanitizers soared once this handshaking business got underway. (Come now, surely you thought of all those germs floating about. Show me a school that has hot running water, soap in their dispensers and children who actually wash their hands, and I’ll show you Nirvana--and no, I’m not talking about the band either.)

I just marvel how these Greeting Guys have parlayed this handshaking, high-five business into a profitable enterprise (with individual registration fees at almost $500 a pop) and how they managed to convince school administrators--not just here in the good ole U.S. of A, but apparently globally--that the shake of a hand or some variation thereof somehow translates into better test scores. If I had known making a small fortune was that easy, I would have joined the handshaking circuit years ago or sold the Brooklyn Bridge.

But wait a darn tootin’ minute, Missy, I think there still might be time. My BFF Jennifer and I have always said that the demise of civilization and learning can be traced to when people quit wearing hats and gloves.

So forget that handshaking business. (Hails Bails! I think we can even forget about those pesky lesson plans.) Instead, let’s just slap on those cute little hats and whip out those white gloves. There’s no time to waste! We’ve got self-of-steam and test scores to raise.

Diets, Mini Monkey Mints & Floral Print Shoes

The week before Spring Break was, well, “interesting.”

That’s my fill-in-the-blank word. You know those words–words you use when someone or something renders you speechless.

“Hmmm, that’s very interesting,” I’ll say when one of my students provides an answer or observation that makes no sense. And, as an added bonus, “very interesting” doesn’t diminish anyone’s self-of-steam.

“Interesting” also provides the perfect response when someone offers a suggestion or idea that makes me want to scream, “You big, fat, stupidhead!”

Instead, I can play nice and merely and politely say, “Why, how very interesting.”

It’s also a great answer to those no-win-are-you-still-beating-your- spouse-type questions. Just merely answer with, “My, now that’s an interesting question.”

And all of this interesting stuff brings me to my entertainment editor’s random, interesting outbursts.

Situation #1–A conversation about food and dieting
Jessica: “I need to eat healthy and lose weight.”
Me: “No, you don’t. You’re the size of a toothpick.”
Jessica: "You don’t know what’s going on under this shirt.”

See how my comment, “Hmmm, how interesting…” would fit in perfectly?


Situation #2–Working on stories
Jessica: “Mini Monkey Mints…”
Pizza Andy & Katelyn: “Alliteration…”
Me: “What?”
Jessica: “I couldn’t remember that word.”
Me: “Mini Monkey Mints?”
Jessica: “No, alliteration…”
Me: “Why are you writing about Mini Monkey Mints?”

See, I should have just said, “Hmmm, interesting” and moved on…

Situation #3–Jessica was working on her fashion critiques. I had asked her earlier to check on a student for me.
Me: “What did she say?”
Jessica: “Floral print shoes.”
Me: Silence. (I’ve got nothing here.)
Allison: “You know, like the shoes with the flowers on them.”
Me: “Yes, I know what floral print shoes are, but what does that have to do with Courtney? Is she wearing them? What did she say about the Andy’s tape?”
Jessica: “Ohhhhh, the tape. Courtney. I didn’t go yet.”

Me thinking about big, fat…Oh, you know the rest…but try as they might they are not going to make me say it…

Floral print shoes

Me saying, “Oh my goodness…”

Floral print shoes

Me thinking next time: “Hmmm…That’s very interesting…”