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Have you read this week's epistle from Jules?

Episode 177

Eat Your Heart Out, Drew Carey

     Mr. Lo Pat arrives exactly on time for his appointment with Stanley Kramer, the principal of Quilty Prep. As he whirrs into the office Kalima Milak turns away to find a seat to wait, but her coach looks over his shoulder at her, indicating that she should join him. She follows behind his chair, and closes the door behind them.

     "Principal Kramer," Mr. Lo Pat begins. "I'm Mr. Lo Pat, from Manhattan Lodestone." He extends his hand to the principal, a grayish man in a corduroy jacket who seems to be in desperate need of a haircut. "And this is Kalima Milak, my LD captain."

     Principal Kramer is standing in front of his desk, and shakes both their hands. He looks down at Mr. Lo Pat in his wheelchair, at a loss for a moment, apparently taken by surprise that his morning's guest has a disability. Then, with a quick resolve, he takes his seat behind his desk.

     "I've heard a lot about you from my team," Principal Kramer says. "They speak very highly of you."

     Mr. Lo Pat cocks an eyebrow. "I'm surprised to hear that. I don't think I've been particularly reticent in making it clear that they are not my favorite group of students."

     Principal Kramer leans forward across his desk, then takes a sudden look over at Kalima, who has taken a seat in a corner of the room.

     "Shouldn't we be discussing this alone?" the principal asks.

     "Kalima is well aware of my opinions on this subject. I don't wish you to think that your students are necessarily a collection of irretrievable reprobates, Mr. Kramer. On the contrary, they are a bright, avid group of students. The problem is, they are inevitably unsupervised, and as a result, they throw almost every tournament they attend into a minor tizzy. Their very presence alone, with their lack of correct registration and the wrong number of judges and no adult to claim responsibility for them, leads to endless complications."

     "They do have an adult with them at all times. That's the team rule."

     "That may be the team rule, Mr. Kramer, but that is not the way the team is operating. They seldom if ever have an adult with them. But that is not the point. What they need is not some random adult, but a coach."

     Principal Kramer sits back in his chair. "I don't think I understand."

      At this point, Mr. Lo Pat whirrs his chair back away from the principal's desk.

     Mr. Lo Pat:

     A coachless team, don't you understand?

     Principal Kramer, either you are closing your eyes to a situation you do not wish to acknowledge,

      Or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster indicated by the absence of a debate coach in your community.

     [Music begins, source unknown]

     Well, ya got trouble my friend, right here, I say trouble right here in Quilty City

     Why sure, I'm a debate coach, certainly mighty proud, I say, I'm always might proud to say it.

     I consider that the hours I spend with a flow pad in hand are golden.

     Help you cultivate horse sense, and a cool head, and a keen eye.

     'Jever take 'n try to judge a national champ 'gainst a local three bid COC team?

     But just as I say, it takes judgment, brains and maturity to follow a high speed round,

     I say that any boob kin say a kid is more persuasive.

     And I call that sloth! The first big step on the road to the depths of degrada--

     I say first it's a little, uh, made-up evidence from a website; then Edible Phlos'-phy.

     And the next thing you know, your team is runnin' Rawls backwards in their three-piece suits

     And list'-nin' to some big out-a-town jasper, hearin' him tell about college debat'n

     Not a wholesome LD round, no! But a round where they act'shly read 'riginal sources!

     Like to see some stuck-up Parli boy runnin' John-boy Locke? Make your blood boil?

     Now Principal, lemme tell you what I mean.

     Ya got one two three four five six debaters on a bus!

     A bus ride that marks the difference between a gentleman and a bum,

     With a capital B and that rhymes with C and that stands for coach.

     All week long your Quilty City youth'll be frittern away, I say, your young folks'll be frittern.

     Frittern away their noontime, suppertime, choretime too!

     Get the thirty responses!

     Never mind reading Leviathan, or Jean-Jacques Rousseau, or the New York Times.

     Never mind sittin' with your coach 'n learnin' what the resolution's really about before a Saturday night.

     And that's trouble, oh yes, ya got lots n' lots 'a trouble.

     I'm thinkin' of the kids in the knickerbockers shirttails, young ones, peekin' in the A flight window after school,

     Ya got trouble, friend, right here in Quilty City. Trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with C and that stands for coach.

     Now I know all your kids have the right kind of parents. I'm gonna be perfectly frank.

     Would ya like to know what kind of conversation goes on while they're loafin' between the rounds?

     They'll be tryin' out kritiks, tryin' out disads, tryin' out Counterplans, like Policy fiends.

     And braggin' all about how they're gonna cover twenty blips with a Foucault turn.

     One fine night, they leave the last round, headin' for the tournament hotel.

     Libertine men and scarlet women and rap tunes, shameless music that'll drag your son and your daughter to the arms of a jungle animal instinct mass hysterial--

     Friend, the coachless brain is the devil's playground

     Principal Kramer & Kalima Milak:

     Trouble! Right here in Quilty City!

     With a capital t and that rhymes with c and that stands for coach.

     We've surely got trouble. Right here in Quilty City.

     Gotta figure out a way to keep the young ones moral on the team

     Our children's children gonna have trouble.

     Trouble…trouble…trouble…trouble…trouble… [continue during the following stanzas]

     Mr. Lo Pat:

     Principal of Quilty City, heed that warning before it's too late.

     Watch for the tell-tale signs of corruption.

     The minute your LDer leaves the school does he remember no one's registered his team yet?

     Does he write his cases on the bus?

     Or when he arrives at the tournament?

     Is he starting to memorize responses from cheat-sheet websites?

     Are certain names creeping into his conversation,

     Names like Rand,

     And Michael Walzer?

     Remember the Maine, Plymouth rock and the Golden Rule!

     Principal Kramer and Kalima Milak:

     Oh we have trouble. We're in terrible terrible trouble.

     Mr. Lo Pat:

     That team with the fifteen coachless kids is the devils tool!

     All:

     Oh yes we've got trouble trouble trouble.

     Yes we got trouble here,

     We got big, big trouble

     With a T

     Gotta rhyme it with C

     And that stands for coach.

     [Applause, applause, applause, bow, bow, bow, compare Mr. L.P. favorably/unfavorably to Robert Preston]

     "So you're saying," Principal Kramer suggests, "that we have problems because we don't have a coach?"

     "That is exactly what I am saying," Mr. Lo Pat replies.

     "But I have tried for years to get a teacher to take on the team. I get a young person starting out every now and then, but as soon as they get tenure, they head for the hills, away from the Speech and Debate team."

     Mr. Lo Pat nods. "I think I have a solution for that," he says. "I know where there's a great forensics coach this very moment who no longer has his own team. I think we could convince him to take over your team, with very little urging."

     "Where is this teamless coach?" the principal asks.

     "Just down the road in Nighten Township."

     Principal Kramer scratches the end of his nose. "I know their principal there. If this teacher of yours is interested, we might be able to work something out."

     "It would make a big difference for your team, sir. They would be welcome everywhere they went, rather than feared for what might go wrong when they arrive."

     "What is this teacher's name?" Kramer asks.

     "Tarnish Jutmoll. Been a forensics coach all his life. I think he'd be happy to take over your kids."

     "I'll give him a call then."

     Mr. Lo Pat raises his hand. "I've never mentioned a word of this to Mr. Jutmoll. I think it might be better if he heard it first coming from me. Why don't I have him call you after I've talked to him?"

     "Excellent!" the principal says, rising from his chair.

     Mr. Lo Pat is smiling broadly, Principal Kramer is smiling broadly. Even Kalima Milak is smiling broadly.

     Not one of them has a clue to what is going on this very moment at Nighten Township.

Will Tarnish Jutmoll take over the Quilty team?

Will Mr. Lo Pat take over the part of Harold Hill?

Does Mr. Lo Pat know the territory?

Does he hope... and pray... for a Hester to win just one more A?

Do they ever write 'em like that anymore?



Standing room only in our next episode: "You think you'd be able to spell Wilson, or, Is this something to do with the one-L lama?"

Go to the next episode due Oct 24, 2001.