TO-WIT: THE BIG KAHUNA, PART ONE
It’s been thirty years, count ‘m, thirty years now that I’ve been Shepardizing my clients and their various causes safely through the minefields of justice. Although I’m not usually the introspective sort, that’s a long time by anyone’s count, and I consequently find myself of late thinking a lot about my career and what it is I’ve learned, if anything, in so much time.
Well, one thing I’ve learned for sure is that I’m not nearly as smart as I might have previously though, else I’d never have done this for thirty, count ‘em, thirty years.
Another thing I’ve learned is that this is a tough way to make a buck if you do it right and, for me at least, it takes a lot more than just the need to make a living to do it for so long. You see, I have done quite well by my clients’ miscellaneous misfortunes and I am long since past the point of needing to work to put food on the table. That I yet continue to soldier on is for reasons pretty much unrelated to the prerequisites of sustenance.
From the earliest days of my career, I have always been drawn to the cause, the crusade, the singular opportunity to stomp upon the powerful and arrogant on behalf of the weak and downtrodden. I have my parents to thank for this passionate predilection, they taught me all I ever needed to know about being downtrodden, and I continue to carry their invaluable lessons with me each and every day of my life. Consequently, causes have been and still remain the staff of my professional life and, as those who know me well will readily attest, it is what I have lived for.
Recently though, pickings have been slim. Oh, there have been a few fun cases, occasionally the invidious landlord to defeat or the intrusive municipal ordinance to repress, but by and large, things have been woefully calm of late. For a while there I was beginning to worry that society had become far too respectful of the rights of the individual to suit the likes of me.
Well, I am now here to tell you “pish tosh.” I am now here to tell you that my fretting in this regard has been totally without merit. Never again will I doubt the existence of despots in this world, glory be, glory be. For I have encountered the end all and be all of evil, the Grand Poobah of Tyrants, the Big Kahuna of Malevolence, and he is mine, all mine.
If you had to hazard a guess as to his occupation, there would be only two choices really, dictator of Germany or high school principal. This particular despot is the latter, a bona fide member of a species already well known for having produced some of the stupidest forms of life on Earth and bested in that regard only by the school boards who hire them. This guy, before he became a high school principal, had been a gym teacher. God, life can be so sweet sometimes.
As the clients, yes, clients, there were a lot of them, told me some of their stories, I was overcome by disbelief. No one could get away with some of the things this guy was up to. For instance, he annually culls out all those students beyond the age of compulsory education that he deems unfit for his school, tells them they are far too stupid and worthless to attend college and then harangues them into quitting school entirely.
“Did he then herd them into mass showers?” I asked incredulously.
He expelled students without hearing willy nilly, dragged them to magistrate’s court for every minor disturbance, every one convinced, tossed around the epithet “poor white trash” as if he were saying “good morning,” and, supported by the cast of Amontillado, imposed upon his charges a reign of terror that would have embarrassed Torquemada.
As I geared up for Round One in federal court, I licked my lips in anticipation of the glorious stomping just around the bend. Ah, but the Divine Miss Justice works in mysterious ways, not the least of which compels me to pause in my tale until next time. Be sure to tune in, I’ll make it worth your while.
© 2000, S. Sponte, Esq.