A Classic 70/30 Split

The phone rang at 3:30 A.M., an hour of the morning ripe for bad news. As I stumbled for the phone in the dark my first thought was that someone in the family had died.

“Hello?”

“I saw your speech. You have a future as a Baptist preacher.”

“Dr. Duke?”

“Of course it’s me. Who else calls you at this hour?”

Duke had been out of touch for four months, off, I assumed, on one of his periodic excursions to Thailand or Outer Mongolia or gallivanting through Prague with an underage heiress.

In fact, as he was now telling me, he’d been in Kona, Hawaii, attending to business interests. Cannabis cultivation, I assumed, though, given the proclivity of the Bush Administration to eavesdrop on ordinary Americans, I had no intention of asking on an open telephone line. The trip had obviously gone well because he was sober and in high spirits, eager to incite revolution and mayhem.

“Not running for school board was a big mistake,” Duke said. “Those people desperately need someone with my peculiar talents. The foundation is crumbling and they stand around like shell-shocked sheep waiting for a miracle to save them. And whoever’s doing their PR needs a public flogging. Sweet Jesus, what kind of morons extend the big boss’s contract before taking care of their labor force? The first principle of leadership is to take care of your people. How the hell can a PhD not know that? Is the Superintendent that arrogant or that dense?”

“Beats me,” I said. “Maybe a little of both.”

“Looks like a classic 70/30 split to me,” Duke said. “If the man had a shred of moral decency he would have told the Board to delay extending his contract until after this mess with the teachers was settled. And then, for good measure, he would have refused any salary increase until his people got what they deserved. What kind of car does he drive?”

“A Lexus SUV, I think.”

“Yeah, that figures. Lexus, the official vehicle of elitist greedheads. Be that as it may, the Board put its collective foot in a steaming pile of walrus shit and the teachers will never forgive them or forget. Whether they meant to or not they made it abundantly clear that they value the Superintendent more than the people who do the heavy lifting. You don’t extend the contract of a man leading you to state receivership.”

“That’s the general consensus,” I said.

“Well, the Superintendent may have a contract through 2010, but he’s effectively washed up. His reputation is shot and his legacy will be one of failure and ineptitude. Amen.”