Surviving Newspaper Deadline, Keeping Promises and Bootlegging

In the world of amazing things, let's toss last week in there.

The fact that somehow the journalism gods smiled and the school newspaper went to press (minus all the things that will get you fired) and without the arrest of a certain crazy adviser (that would be me) who was nanoseconds from setting her hair on fire, smacking the children upside their little pointy heads and driving off into the sunset in true Thelma and Louise fashion.

Yep, it was that kind of deadline. Now, I get to concentrate on all things yearbook. Oh, joy. And finalize my six weeks grades. Oh, more joy. And update Blackboard. Oh, geewillikers, more joy.

So instead of re-hashing, re-living and re-igniting those set-your-hair-on-fire-moments of last week, I thought I would honor some commitments I made before school started. I promised Karen Blumenthal, a former Dallas Morning News coworker, former Wall Street Journal editor and Dallas journalist,  that I would read her two new books and provide a little review (which I would have done earlier but that pesky newspaper deadline got in the way).

She sent me two books, Bootleg: Murder, Moonshine and the Lawless Years of Prohibition and Mr. Sam. Both nonfiction books target adolescent type readers, which is why I love these books. They are even perfect for someone old like me because they are filled with interesting information in an easy to read format.

Of course, I read the Bootleg one first, and now her book is particularly timely since PBS just started airing a documentary on prohibition. With only 127 pages and filled with all sorts of interesting photographs, this book provides a quick, interesting and informative read for all age groups. I actually learned all sorts of things that became fodder for dinner conversation. Stuff about Morris Sheppard, Al Capone and Henry Ford among others. I never knew that one of the founders of NASCAR racing had his beginnings in bootleg running.

Yep, all kinds of interesting stuff.


To be perfectly honest, I wasn't as thrilled to pick up the Mr. Sam book which chronicled how Sam Walton built Walmart and became one of the richest men in America. The book surprised me though when I became interested in it after reading just a few paragraphs. It's a fascinating read. Like all of Blumenthal's books, it's well-written and filled with all sorts of interesting stuff. Particularly helpful were the infographics that broke down how families spent their money as the book progresses through Sam Walton's life.

Probably the best compliment I can give any book is when that book gets you to look at something from a different perspective, and this book did exactly that. I can't walk into a Walmart now without looking at the store and its founder in a different light.

I highly recommend both books and encourage school libraries to get these two titles on their shelves speedy quick. And, if you don't already have Blumenthal's Six Days in October: The Stock Market Crash of 1929, well shame, shame, shame. That, too, is a great book–informative and easy to understand even for those of us who struggle with understanding financial matters.

You know, people like me.

Me, Deadlines & Howard

Unfortunately, I was too busy preparing the upcoming Education Buzz: Life's a Carnival (which will be featured here on Wednesday) that I really didn't feel up to posting something. I was also exhausted from spending last week mired in the final newspaper deadline of the year.

And, yes, that all pretty much sucked the life right out of me.

Then there's the palatable panic setting in as we anticipate the arrival in a week of our 1,300 yearbooks.

I know you probably don't care about all of that. Instead, you are probably more concerned about Howard the Shelter Cat and how Howie is dealing with this end of the year madness.

Well, fear not, while I was smack dab in the midst of deadline disasters, my husband sent me this photo of Howie sitting in my reading chair taking a break from doing whatever it is cat's do…

Deadline Survivor, Things That Will Get You Fired & Global Warming

One of these days I think I’ll make up a little ribbon pin or a button of some sort that says “Newspaper Deadline Survivor” or “Yearbook Deadline Survivor” –except I don’t know if anyone ever really truly survives a publications deadline.

Perhaps a better version would be…“Newspaper Deadline–No one gets out of here alive,” but then again, we’d probably have some copyright issues to deal with since there’s a book floating around by that name. So much for my cleverness.

Regardless, I am again a Newspaper Deadline Survivor, and that, dear friends, is always cause for the Dance of Joy, so let’s just briefly recap some of the high points of the week. Or uh, perhaps we should call them low points? Hails bails, I think we’ll just call them points of the week. Yep, that’s probably the most politically correct phraseology (and no, I’m not making up words, although I could if I wanted to). I’ll just throw three things out there for you to ruminate about. (Yes siree, Missy, we’ve got that SAT word thing going on again.)

Item #1…One of the kids asked this week if the Super Bowl was Super Bowl Number 4. I guess all those Roman numerals threw them off.

Item #2…I quietly slipped something into my “Things That Will Get You Fired” folder. I would elaborate, but then this would become a “thing that will get you fired,” and we all know how I feel about those things.

Item #3…I sent Mikey the Extraordinaire to the library to check out the Rolling Stone movie “Shine A Light” for me because, well, everyone knows how much I love the Greatest Rock ’n’ Roll Band of All Time. (Besides, one look at Keith Richards, and I don’t feel so old anymore. Sorry, Keith.)

Well, someone asked Mr. Mikey if the DVD was for my “personal” use or if I was going to show it to my students because we aren’t allowed to show movies with a PG-13 rating or higher. This, of course, was from the same library that handed me a great DVD about photographer Annie Leibovitz but nonetheless contained lots of naked folks. In case you were wondering, naked folks (you know, people sans clothing) are exactly the kind of things that immediately get stashed in the “Things That Will Get You Fired” folder (which btw is starting to get just a tad bit overcrowded).

But golly geewillikers, all of that got me to thinking (and we all know what happens when that happens). I’m still rather shocked at the question. Did they really think someone would show Mick and the boys to a class? Well, I got to thinking, and now I’m still stuck at wondering just how one would justify showing “Shine A Light” to one’s class, you know, if one actually wanted to. Common sense would tell one that if one wished to continue to remain employed that Mick and the boys should immediately get stuffed into the Things folder. Don’t you think?

And speaking of things, I do have one more thing…One of my editors wrote a great line in her column that I intend to purloin (ah, another SAT word alert!). Poor thing said she was going to be grounded for her grades until global warming ended.

I think Mick’s going to stay in the Things folder along with Annie until, you guessed it, global warming ends.

Newspaper Deadlines, Bat-Crack-Crazy & AC/DC’s Highway to…

Against all odds, I survived another newspaper deadline.

Barely.

I think I was screeching or squawking about something when one of the yearbook photographers thought he was being helpful by saying,“You couldn’t pay me enough money to do your job.”

I started to say, “Well, you couldn’t pay me enough either,” but you can see how ridiculously stupid that sounds and how it makes zero sense –which all goes to point out exactly how bat-crack-crazy things were and how sometimes even crazy things for a nano-second seem to make sense.

So, my friends, I give you just a small smidgen of…

The Bat-Crack-Crazy Things
(That Appear To Make Sense For A Nano-Second)
on newspaper deadline…

People’s Exhibit #1…I know we love our guns here in the Lone Star state, but did the Texas Parks & Wildlife Department really issue 12.5 million hunting licenses in 2008? Sadly, none of our proofreaders caught it and 24 hours went by before I said to myself, “OMG, self, that’s bat-crack-crazy! That can’t possibly be right. That would mean roughly one hunter for every two Texans. Jeez Louise! Go change it speedy quick.”

People’s Exhibit #2…What do you do when you need a kid for a photo illustration? Why just grab some random elementary school kiddo from the Halloween Carnival at school, of course. At least we didn’t trigger an Amber alert.

People’s Exhibit #3…My newspaper editor came rushing in breathless Halloween morning. Never mind that those four pages were still undone and the final printer deadline loomed a mere eight hours away. Never mind that she almost got hit by a mini-van (and, no, it wasn’t me) in the parking lot. Never mind that she had three hours of sleep, no breakfast and forgot her lunch. Never mind all that, Missy. The biggest calamity? In her rush to get to school, she forgot her new Halloween socks…oh, and her shoes, too.

People’s Exhibit #4…What do we do when we need statistical data for an infographic? Why, my friends, just take it from Wikipedia, of course. Akuracy? Who cares about ackuracy? We don’t need no stinkin’ ackyersee.

So after a week like that, is it really a coincidence that AC/DC’s new release “Black Ice” topped the charts this week? It rather coincided with that feeling I had about being on that Highway to… Well, all you rockers out there know the one I’m talkin’ about.

Blues, Basements & Bailouts

With all the fuss over my inclusion in School Gate, London Times education site, I almost forgot to post something new. Jeez Louise!

For now, let’s just attribute part of my memory lapse to a rather “interesting” week. You remember “interesting” don’t you? (Our little fill-in-the-blank code word for when someone or something renders us speechless or when we want to shout at the top of our lungs, “Why you big, fat…” Awwww, you know the rest. And, no siree, Missy, I’m not going to say it. I’ve got that counter thingy to think about.)

OK, so let’s just get back to my “interesting” week. First, we were––make that still are--on our first newspaper deadline. Since that was/is such an ugly mess, I still can’t talk about it because my mother taught me, “If you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all…”

So for right now, I won’t say anything about my newspaper staffers and deadline, bless their hearts, until I start feeling the love again.

Hmmmm…that leaves my photography classes. They just finished their first project and we posted all the photographs to critique.

Uh-oh. Nope. I probably shouldn’t discuss that one either. Let’s just say that there was a rather significant collection of photos that had a rather bluish cast to them. Animals with blue noses, people with bluish skin, fences with blue-toned wood, and, of course, a dog with blue fur. I rather felt like I was stuck in a Blue’s Clues episode gone bad. I guess in their defense I should say that one of our school colors is blue so perhaps it was a school spirit thing.

So, my friends, that now leaves just my yearbook staff and my Journalism I class. Well, let’s just say my yearbook editor scares me lately. Somehow she’s perfected in 17 years what has taken me 50-something years to develop: a persona of pure intimidation. She wants this special linen cover that costs an extra $2+ a book. And guess what? She’s getting that cover if I have to get a government bailout to do it.

Speaking of government bailouts, every Friday we discuss current events in my Journalism I class, so of course, we talked about the current financial crisis and government proposed bail-out.


One student wanted to know why we just didn’t print more money to solve the problem.

Me… “Well, it doesn’t work that way. It’s kind of complicated, but everyone’s economy is connected to each other and if we have too much money circulating around, then the money isn’t worth anything.”

Kid #1…“Why not? It’s just money. We should print up some more.”

Me… “Well, dear, if it really worked that way, we’d all be printing money in our basements. If, of course, we had basements.” (Remember this is Texas.)

Kid #2…“I know what they should do.”

Me…“What?”

Kid #2…“You know that $2,000 everyone got as part of that stimulus package?”

Me… (secretly thrilled, the children knew about the stimulus package)…“Yes…”

Kid #2… “Well, $2,000 wasn’t enough to buy enough of anything to stimulate anything. The government needs to give everyone $200,000. Now, that would stimulate the economy…”

All the kids simultaneously… “Yeah!”

Me…“Hey, you can’t give away money you don’t have…”

Oh, wait… I guess you can.

Spelling Bees, Yearbook Fumes & Livin’ Large

As we speedy quick approach the end of the school year, I glanced through my half-finished, half-baked drafts of posts I started but got sidetracked and didn’t complete. (Kind of like all those lists I keep starting and losing and starting). So I’ve pieced together a montage for you to peruse. Hopefully, one of these little tidbits will spark a smile or two at a time of the year when things are so hectic.

Newspaper Deadlines & the Synchronized Spelling Bees

A conversation during our final newspaper deadline…

Me… “Hey, quick, someone spell ‘competition’ for me. It just doesn’t look right.”

Pizza Andy & Jessica simultaneously & in perfect harmony… “Competition. C-O-M-P-E-T-I-T-I-O-N. Competition.”

One of them… “Hey, wouldn’t it be great if they had a synchronized spelling bee contest? You know, like synchronized swimming?”

Me… “What?”

Pizza Andy & Jessica simultaneously and in perfect harmony… “Booger. B-O-O-G-E-R. Booger.”

Me & My Newspaper Editor Katelyn… simultaneously and in perfect harmony rolling our eyes.

Yearbook update…

So-o-o-o my 1,200 plus yearbooks arrived right on time––all 70+some gazillion boxes packed full of student greatness. I spent the entire week sorting them and threatening children. (I think the print fumes got to me.)

I even snapped at my unbelievably fab-u-lous newspaper editor Katelyn. I don’t think I’ve ever snapped at her. Yelled at, maybe, but snapped at? I don’t think so. Sigh. Print fumes.

We had only one little glitch where some guy or gal manning the presses didn’t quite get the trimline right so the printer instructions remained along the bottom of the page in some of the books. I told my amazing yearbook rep that it wouldn’t have bothered me… except it was Page 1… you know, the title page… and well, the printer instructions also said, “DESTROY.”

Let’s synchronize spell that…all together now…simultaneously and in perfect harmony…

“Destroy. D-E-S-T-R-O-Y. Destroy.”

Not exactly the kind of message one wants one to have when one opens one’s yearbook.

Well, needless to say, the problem got fixed speedy quick, but all that got me to thinking (never a good thing), and I suggested to my rep that maybe those little printer instructions should be written in some sort of code so that if it happens again, it won’t matter--especially if it says things like…

• Give Richie a raise
• This yearbook is fab-u-lous
• Richie is the best adviser ever
• What a rockin’ yearbook!
• Not It!
  
• Send lawyers, guns and money…

No wait… we probably ought to leave that last one out.

My California Trip & Livin’ Large

OK, OK, OK so I know I didn’t have to fly the 1400 or so miles to California to be living large. (Actually all I have to do is turn around and see my backside.) Nevertheless, most of you know that I recently went to the west coast for a few fun-filled days celebrating the turning 50 milestone for my two BFFs. (My third BFF was stuck on the east coast mumbling something about having to administer AP tests. Sheesh.)

At any rate, we had a fab-u-lous time pretending to be rich old ladies at the spa on the beach at Monterey and then later knocking around San Francisco. I decided that my overall disposition would improve exponentially if only I could begin each and every day with a walk on this beach…

…and, of course, have an hour massage.

One final note… I traveled first class, and on the way back, I sipped my complimentary Mimosa and played with the controls on my nifty seat that adjusted everywhere…legs, back, head. Heck, I could even recline to a sleeping position if I were so inclined.

But I’m sad to report I was afraid to because, as I said before, I started messing with all those controls (and you were expecting more of me? Oh, come now), and somehow I managed to get my legs too high and the back of my seat so askew that I had to put my nifty sanitized little airline pillow behind me.

And speaking of sanitized pillows, I even had my own sanitized blanket (shrink-wrapped in plastic no less) assuring me that no germs lived there. No Siree buddy, all those germs were in the back of the plane jumping around on those non-sanitized, unwrapped red blankets. You know the ones I’m talkin’ about. Can I get an “Amen” brothers and sisters?

Who knew flying first class was so much fun?

Now, least you think that my school district pays me way too much in my little southern suburb south of the big D, rest assured that this little flight cost me all my airline mileage points. Points racked up–not because I’m a jet set traveler–but because of the year’s worth of groceries I ate and charged to my credit card in order to get those airline miles. It’s no wonder I have a livin’ large backside.

Oh yeah, baby, I’m Mrs. Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous… no wait, that’s Brittany Spears

********

OK, so enough of that nonsense…Here’s looking forward to summer.

Let’s synchronize spell that…all together now…simultaneously and in perfect harmony…

summer…S–U–M–M–E–R…summer

Deadlines, Purses & Onions

We’ve just about wrapped up the yearbook, mailing off the almost-last batch of page proofs. However, it’s hard to enjoy the brief lull because, of course, newspaper has entered into another deadline.

And deadlines, we know, for both publications brings some rather “interesting” things.

While trying to finish up the last batch of yearbook proofs, I overheard my business editor arguing rather loudly with the yearbook editor.

“Is everything OK?” I asked when he walked into the main classroom.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s all under control.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yep, everything’s OK,” he said, grabbing the editor’s purse and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Well, everything except the fact that I’m carrying a purse,” he added as he walked back into the publications room.

I thought it best to just keep working.

And, then, of course, there’s the newspaper staff. My newspaper editor and editor in chief have been working very hard on a difficult story. I told them if the story didn’t make me teary-eyed then they haven’t done their job. Now, please keep in mind, I’m not much of a crier at all, and they know this.

My entertainment editor, who should have been working on her pages, told the girls, “You’re going to need some strategically placed onions under her eyes.”

But Pizza Andy had a better idea: “Hmmm, does this paper smell like tear gas?”

Slackers, Inspirations & New Year’s Resolutions

Just a brief note to wish everyone a Happy New Year… Something tells me that I should have been less of a slacker and had some profound epiphany in which to usher in the new year and post. But, alas, I am at somewhat at a disadvantage since I have been away from my DIs–that’s Darling Inspirations not Divine Inspirations (although I suppose that is a debatable point)–for 11 days, 9 hours, 4 minutes and 20 seconds…but hey, who’s counting?

So, yes, I have been somewhat of a slacker and not touched one yearbook page, one lesson plan, one paper, one red pen…although a purple politically correct grading pen did sort of blow up in my hand en route to the Colorado mountains. At which point, I considered that a divine sign not to think about school for the entire duration of my holiday trip.

But now that the re-start of school looms ominously less than 48 hours away, I face two choices… Choice #1–Begin a frantic frenzy of grading, yearbook page proofing, lesson planning and school organization or Choice #2 –Procrastinate a bit longer and devise a New Year’s Resolution list.

I pick Choice #2.

So here it is… drum roll pah-leese… my Top 5 New Year’s Resolutions…

#5…The perennial favorite… Lose Some Weight… Of course this goal isn’t helped by the fact that I just purchased four bags of Ghirardelli Dark Chocolate with Caramel for a mere 74 cents a bag. Sigh.

#4…Stress less about deadlines (which should be helped by those four bags of chocolate mentioned in #5). Those deadlines hang heavy like an albatross around my neck…

#3…Banish cliches from writing… although I’m not willing to abandon the cliche finder. It’s just too much f-u-n.

#2…OK, after reading #3, perhaps I should work at finding a life.

And here, my friends, is my #1 New Year’s resolution…Can we have a drum roll pah-leese?…

#1…Work at a kinder, gentler me… but wait a minute… where’s the fun in that? OK… so let’s inject a bit of realism here. Let’s see how many days I can go this year without calling anyone a big fat stupid head. Ladies and gentlemen, start your counters!

Deadlines, Counting & Playlists

Well folks, I am, once again, a deadline survivor.

Newspaper deadline that is.

Yearbook, sadly, is still on-going. sigh.

I had a friend once. (OK, so I’ve had more than one friend. OK, maybe four. And, OK, it’s been more than once.)

So, I had a friend once who asked, “Just how many newspaper deadlines have you completed? Have you ever counted them up?”

“Well, mercy no,” I replied, “that might be way too depressing.”

At that point I pondered scratching him off my list of friends or at least moving him down on my MySpace hierarchy of friends–as if I had a MySpace page. As if.

Nonetheless, that thought (no, not the MySpace thing, the how many deadlines thing) has been banging around my head for quite a while now, but numbers make my head hurt, so I’ve never bothered to do the math. (You may recall that I consider myself somewhat math-challenged which is why I occasionally go and take a peek at Matt-a-matical Thinking’s blog just so I can pretend that numbers and me are tight. Yeah right.)

So let’s figure it out now… hmmm 21 years of teaching… an average of about 7 newspapers each year… between 12 and 16 pages, but none traveling on Train A that leaves the station at noon and heads north at 125 mph… Let’s see…the answer, of course, would be 147. Now, that doesn’t include all those marvelous yearbook deadlines… Just the thought of those nasty critters makes my head explode. (I’m going to quit counting now because I’ve developed a twitch in my right eye. Jeez.)

Let’s get back to the survivor thing. I am a deadline survivor (although I’m not sure I like this kind of survival). Having survived at least 147 deadlines, I got to wondering what the perfect deadline playlist would look like (as if I actually had an iPod in which to download one).

So, whomp, there it is–and if that doesn’t date me a bit, then what in tarnation will?

Here’s my Top 5 for the playlist…

#5 Loser 3:56 Beck Mellow Gold

#4 Deadline 4:27 Blue Oyster Cult Cultosaurus Erectus

#3 Hello Stupid 1:54 Slick Shoes Far from Nowhere

#2 Dazed & Confused 6:26 Led Zeppelin Mothership

And, of course, drum roll pah-leese, the No. 1 song (as if it’s a surprise)…

#1 Take This Job & Shove It 2:41 Johnny Paycheck All-time Greatest Hits

Lime green boxes, Dove chocolates & messages

I was sorting through the inch and half high stack of yearbook pages that were supposed to have been finished when I caught sight of the lime green-filled box. For those of you blessed to not be a yearbook or newspaper adviser or have the nomenclature “adviser” anywhere near your name, the lime green-filled box on a yearbook page is synonymous with ground zero of a nuclear explosion.

Ok, so maybe that’s a tad bit of a hyperbole, but that little lime green-filled box might as well say, “I-know-a-photograph-goes-here-but-I-don’t-have-one-
and-I-hope-you-won’t-notice-that-I’m-a-big-fat-loser-and-instead-think-you-
spilled-guacamole-here.”

Jeez.

So there I sat staring at the lime green-filled box on the panel pages–pages that contained the class mugshots, and therefore, must be turned in all together…in sequence.

Did I say “together”? …Did I mention the phrase “in sequence”?… Yes, these pages must be turned in together because the publishing plant flows the mugs, well, sequentially. You know, one page after the other. Go figure. So you can’t turn in pages 101, 102, 103, 104, but skip 105 and turn in 106. Nope. No can do. Can we say, “all together” all together?

So there I sat staring. Ok, make that glaring, at the page with the offending lime green-filled box, saying to no one in particular, but everyone in general, “Y’all are wearing me thin.”

I then popped a Dove chocolate in my mouth, you know, one of those tasty, heart-shaped candies with gooey caramel inside and a nifty little message on the foil that says things like “There’s no excuse not to dream” and “Keep the promises you make to yourself.”

“Hey,” I sort of yelled, “make that ‘Y’all are wearing me fat…’”

“Get it?” I asked. “Or, it could be ‘Y’all are wearing me phat?’ You know, with a ‘P’ as in ‘I’m cool…’”

To be honest, there was a lot of eye rolling at that point, a few groans and some others who opted to hide behind their computer screens and pretend not to hear anything.

“Well, you are,” I said to no one in particular. “All this stress is making me eat chocolate, and, uh, making me fat.”

Three Dove chocolates and messages later got me to thinking that perhaps I should go ahead and splurge for my own “four unique” three line tin foil Dove messages. With 17 characters per line, well, just imagine the things I could do. And all for only $59.99. What a deal.

Mine would go something like this…

Message #1…

This is not the
YMCA I don’t have
to be your friend

Message #2…
Quit making
my head
explode!

Message #3…
Don’t bother me
unless your hair
is on fire

And, of course, message #4…
You’re wearing
me fat!

Deadlines, Dumbledore & Hail

I know you’re dying to know how last week’s double whammy deadline went. (Remember, some deranged person who skipped out of town the previous week, decided to have newspaper and yearbook deadline the same week?)

Well, newspaper made it out, but the jury’s still out on yearbook because I still have to sort through those pages right after I sort through 140 project pieces from a photography portrait assignment that some crackhead teacher (Oh, wait, that would be me… Now, before the rumors fly, let me just say I am not nor have I ever been a crackhead… Jeez, I’m starting to sound like Richard Nixon)… Rather, it’s simply my favorite hyperbole–no, not the Nixon thing, but the crackhead thing…

Ok, enough of my whining, let’s get back to the subject at hand… Deadlines always bring up a wealth of material for the Blogosphere. Some, sad to say, simply is not printable. For instance, the kids were all a bit discombobulated after J.K. Rowling outed Dumbledore. But I couldn’t discuss the matter with them at that moment because I had another urgent matter to attend to–dance practice for the Rock Star Pep Rally (and yes, that’s an entirely different story). So after admonishing them to remain focused, I left.

I’m sure it took all of, oh, about 10 seconds before the staff unanimously decided the Dumbledore revelation was more pressing then getting the newspaper to press. From what I've been able to piece together, the following occurred during my brief absence…

•Some sort of dancing was involved. On top of the table.

•Pizza Andy and British accents were involved. Repeat After Me: When British accents are involved, No Good Can Come Of This.

•In a burst of sudden creativity, the staff decided J.K. Rowling should re-release the Harry Potter series, but from Dumbledore’s perspective. Naturally, this meant that instead of writing headlines for their newspaper articles, the staff had to rename all the Harry Potter books. (After all, why should they work on their newspaper pages?) Of course, political correctness flew right out the door. The tamest one, I believe, was Harry Potter and the Closet of Secrets.

When I returned, I duly chastised the children and settled down to proof what little work had been done.

And there it was… “hail bails.”

So I said, “Hmmm, I’ve always been a city girl, but even I know that ‘hail bails’ should be h-a-y b-a-l-e-s… Unless, of course, we are bonding out frozen pellets from the hoosegow.”

Don’t even get me started on the time (years ago and at another school) when self-of-steam reared its ugly head.

Yes, that’s right.

Self-of-steam.

Or, softmore.

And, with that in mind, I thought it best for everyone involved for us to call it a night before Pizza Andy started talking British again and bad things happened.

Deadlines, Al Sharpton & Dress Codes

Glazed eyes. Frazzled nerves. Testy tempers. Ah, the horrors of deadline days. Advising student-produced publications is not for the weak, and honestly, I’m not sure it’s even for the strong. Perhaps, it’s strictly for maniacs… which offers an interesting transition into how Al Sharpton nearly became the head of a small Texas school district. (Geewillikers, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.)

The Scene… After school. 4:25 p.m. Fourth deadline day. I think I had just given my “Why Children Suck The Life Right Out of You” speech. If I didn’t, then I was sure thinking about it.

What Happened… We needed a few quotes from surrounding school districts about why those districts had gone to school uniforms. I got one of the new staffers to call a nearby district. Even though it wasn’t his story, he got a great quote. Our news editor was typing in the information. I was standing behind her reading over her shoulder as she typed… “We wanted to standardize our dress among our students and make them more cohesive…"

“Who did you talk to?” she asked.

“I think it was Al Sharpton,” he said.

"How do you spell that?" she asked as she started typing, "S…h…a…r…"

“Wait a minute,” I gasped. “That’s not right.”

“No, I think that’s what he said,” the staffer told me.

I yelled for our opinion editor who poked his head in from the other room, not sure if it was safe to enter.

“Al Sharpton,” I said. “Do you know who he is?”

“Isn’t he one of those black activists,” he asked.

“Yeah, isn’t he the rhyming one?” asked our entertainment editor.

“No, I think that’s Jesse Jackson,” the opinion editor said.

“They both rhyme,” someone else said.

“You see,” I said trying to get control of the situation. “You didn’t talk to Al Sharpton.”

“Well, I think that’s what he said,” the staffer told me.

“Well, that would be rather interesting," I said, "if he were superintendent, but he’s not. I think, you know, he’s probably been a little busy with the Jena Six thing.”

“Oh,” he said with sudden realization, “that’s where I must have heard the name. We must have talked about him in my AP government class.”

“That’s nice dear,” I said trying very hard to be positive. “I’m glad you were listening in that class, but Al Sharpton is still not the Red Oak superintendent– although that would be pretty interesting.”

“Yeah,” said the entertainment editor, “and what if Malcolm X were the principal?”

"Hey,” said the opinion editor, “and what if Jesse Jackson was the assistant principal?”

“And Don King could be the speech teacher…” the entertainment editor said.

I'm not sure how we went from black activists to Don King, but so it went…

“You need to call Red Oak back tomorrow and see who you really talked to,” I said, trying very hard not to think about the file in my bottom righthand drawer simply labeled, "Things That Will Get You Fired." (And, yes, I really do have such a file.)

And with that, it was time to call it a day, but I couldn't help but think it was probably one of the first times ol’ Al didn't make it in to print.

And, at least in this case, thank goodness for that.