What's in a Name?

Oprah is always in the news. My feeble connection to the omnipotent O is that when I was working summers in between high school in Chicago, I interned for an attorney who went on to become Oprah’s personal attorney. I can understand easily why Oprah chose her best friend, Gayle King, to serve as editor-at-large of a magazine that bears Oprah’s imprint. Who knows better than her closest confidante how to reflect the essence of Oprah on paper?

While reading last Sunday’s New York Times profile of Ms. King, I came across a comment that intrigued me: “Other editors rely on her to know what Oprah would want without even having to ask….She is, in other words, a licensed Oprah-ologist.”

Maybe my self-appointed name of “Cat Lady” is too simplistic. Should I go by a more precise moniker, such as “Lucius-ologist”? Actually, I like to think that all of our ten cats, and not just Lucius, rely on me to know intuitively what they need, without ever having to meow. But “Cat Lady-ologist” sounds too clinical for my taste.

Query of the Day: Any ideas for re-titling?

Cat Lady: The Performance

One of my friends alerted me that “the invitation was in the mail.” She said I would be surprised, perhaps even startled. The invitation was not for a wedding or a brunch, or a baby shower or a college graduation. The invitation was for the opening of a new multi-media theater piece at DiverseWorks, a premier art and performance space in Houston.

Would I be interested in attending Cat Lady, featuring Kristina Wong, and opening tomorrow night? I have to admit that the images reproduced on the invitation did not strike my [cat] fancy, but I also know that I need to broaden my horizons. My worldview of felines must continue to embrace all colors, shapes, sizes, and, I now realize, renditions.

Here’s the catch: The invitation copy is a turnoff to this Cat Lady who “performs” regularly for ten cats. “Cat Lady is Ed Hardy meets Lord of the Flies meets cat pee.” The performance “blends the parallel worlds of two pathetically lonely persons living at the margins of gender and society—musty cat ladies (who make solo performance for a living) and fast-talking male pick-up artists.” Hey, who are you calling “pathetically lonely” and “musty”? The invite also references “anecdotes from unmarried women who live alone with cats.” What is wrong with being unmarried and finding companionship with a feline?

Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got my own reality show right at home. I may even consider streaming video because seeing is believing.

Query of the Day: Do you perform with your cats?

Secret Cat Lady

During the past two weeks, I kept hearing advertisements for a new reality TV show, “Secret Millionaire.” So I decided to watch its debut this past Sunday night.

I wish I could write that I have unlimited resources, and that I dig into my wallet often to give a huge wad of cash to an unsuspecting person in need. What I do relate to is lending a helping hand to turn around another's life.

Anyone who knows me understands that the ten cats my husband and I rescued have become a part of me. I make no secret of this simple, essential truth. Yet I continue to wonder whether stray cats can sense when a Cat Lady is in their midst, poised to rescue them.

Just the other day, I saw a stray white cat with a black tail sitting in our neighbor’s backyard. It was obvious that the cat was lost. He or she (I couldn’t tell, I was spying from a distance) had that painfully forlorn, glazed look, a look that registers, ”I have no idea where I am, but I need to get home.”

If I see this cat again, I will spring into action. There is no need for subterfuge. I'm set to "let the cat out of the bag” and to state my purpose clearly. I know my lines by heart:

Hello, I am Cat Lady. Follow me....

Query of the Day: Are you a Secret Cat Lady?