In which who are we to blow against the wind

I have finally outlined the whole too-many-emails business, with a document on perfecting the tournament email located on the Toolkit site: http://www.jimmenick.com/vault/TournamentEmails.pdf

I've also posted notice of it on the Toolkit Facebook page.

And now I can move on. I've got some emails to read.

In which we ramble

Is it only me, or is the MacOS Photos app totally crap?

I remembered over the weekend that I had a version of Civ on my Mac Mini. Best computer game ever? Yesterday I retired in infamy for the first time in ages. Ahhhh!

Come to think of it, maybe it's just my Mac Mini that's crapping out. Spotify plays, but it doesn't show the playlists. Or anything else. Time to upgrade? Meanwhile, I really like my light little MacBook. Sitting around waiting for a computer to do something? Not in 2019. Maybe I should just retire the mini to special projects. Like Civ.

I watched half an hour of the new Blade Runner movie in complete boredom. Overwrought nonsense. Turns out it's got nothing but great reviews on Rotten Tomatoes. Then again, I didn't like the original movie much either. What do I know?

I've been trying to put Lakeland together. I gather Kaz and I will handle LD and Policy in the high school, with everything else at the Middle School, but this is conjecture on our part. I have to admit, there's pretty good registration for a tournament with no invitation.

I've been working on a memo about sending emails for big tournaments, because everyone says I sent too many for Penn. Then again, two or three people seemed to find them entertaining. Can you get too much of a good thing? Define good thing, I guess.

In which we roam the green hills of Delbarton

The Delbarton JV tournament is a one-day affair with a bunch of speech events, congress, and PF and LD. It's on the same weekend as Harvard, and given the choice, who would pick Harvard? I mean, it does sound good saying that you're going to go to Harvard (although you're really not), and it sounds even better to say you won Harvard (although even that won't get you into the real Harvard), but actually having to endure the Harvard tournament, an exercise in capitalistic greed that no course at the university could begin to explain better, is something else. Just for starters, 386 VPF teams? Breaking to triples? After 6 rounds? According to my handy dandy pyramid program, there's 133 4-2s or better. Which means that roughly half the 4-2s don't break. At $150 per team, that's a gross of $57,900. Harvard has an endowment of $39,200,000,000.

I have always said that you have to be really good to do well at Harvard. But when fields have no limit, being really good doesn't mean you will do well. It just means you have a chance. Add to this 441 judges? This is why we used to run Penn against Harvard. (And to be honest, I never did understand why they moved to a week earlier, although it has worked out fine now a couple of times.)  Anyhow, I don't know why anyone would send teams to Harvard unless, because of the nature of the school, there is an expectation that the team compete at Ivies. I mean, if you send your spawn to a prep school that costs $50K a year, I guess that's part of the perceived package. Mostly it's just throwing away money to impress non-debate people. Who really believes that Harvard is a meaningful test of debate? Seriously now.

Getting back to Delbarton, it was a lot of work. The good news was that I didn't have to do much of it. Catholic Charlie spent a few hours placing the speech judges Friday night, and that was the real toil. I had to hit some buttons now and then on Saturday on the debate rounds, and enter speech results, and—oh, the horror—staple speech ballots before the rounds, but I managed to survive unscathed. Mostly it was a chance to hang out with the Paginator for the last time before he heads off into the land of politics. The good news is, given the nature of social media, I know we won't lose touch with him (unless he turns MAGA on us, in which case all bets are off). Unfortunately I wasn't able to convince him to join us this year at WDW, but, well, they don't give it away and he might not be employed, or he might be too employed. It depends. We'll miss having a Disney virgin with us. So it goes. Speaking of which, I just made the dinner rezzes this morning, 180 days out. I'll start packing any day now.

Ghost Debaters

This is sort of huge.

At Penn, there were two schools with changes that were reported after the tournament began. That in itself is no big deal, but then again, when it happens it’s usually because someone got sick and we’re now putting in a maverick or two. I’ve been known to create a mixed-school team when two debaters managed to get sick at the same time. In an event where the goal is getting rounds/experience, there’s little reason not to do this, and it has no affect on much of anything. 

In the case at hand, students had been subbed in before the tournament started, and it was oversight that it wasn’t corrected at the table (although, as you’ll see, that might have nevertheless created the same problem). Early on, seeing that their names were wrong, the teams went to the table and reported the problem.

And there’s the rub. As far as we can tell, instead of using the handy-dandy pulldown boxes on the bottom right of the page to switch teams, the table simply went to the top of the page and replaced the name of the missing debater with the name of the new debater. Predictably, chaos ensued. While the names of the debaters were correct on the ballots, the team codes had not been changed. More importantly, at the end of the tournament, the new debaters were not listed in the record of speaker points, presumably because they weren’t on their school’s rosters. That is, entering Joe McDoakes in the little box on the top did not connect to Joe McDoakes in the pull down menu of the team roster. They were, in some ways, invisible to the tournament. In one of these cases, with a team that went into elims, a speaker award was not noted. We also believe that these teams might now have an extra Joe McDoakes on each of their rosters, but this is just conjecture on our part. 

Obviously the solution is not to screw this up in the first place, and henceforth we’ll make sure that tables are better instructed. Whether there’s a bug in tabroom around this is arguable, but it has been brought to their attention. In any case, don’t let it happen to you. The last thing you want at your tournament is ghost debaters, which is what we ended up with. Schools that are careful about their NSDA points would not be happy about this. 

In which the actor's tombstone does not read: "Here lies W.C. Fields. I would rather be living in Philadelphia."

Another Penn is in the can. I would have written about it yesterday but I spent the day sort of zoned out. I watched Solo, a movie with nothing to zone in on. It’s nice to have a day off after a nonstop weekend. 

First of all, the staggered schedule worked like a charm. People knew that we were depending on them, and they rose to the occasion. 40 rooms, going to PF at 8:00, 21 and 19 going to Policy and LD at 10:00, then back to PF at 12:00, etc., etc., for the rest of the day. It was a gamble, but we pulled it off. My unspoken backup if things went south was flight one of the last PF on Sat and flight two on Sunday, but that didn’t have to happen. 

Whew!

There were incidents, but not many. A couple of times people questioned decisions, and we got in touch with the judges who verified what they had written, and there you are. There was a suggestion that the judge in one case was wrong, a suggestion that makes one wonder A) how could a judge ever be wrong, and B) how can that particular genius kid ever lose. The answer is, ) did you ever hear of a 2-1 decision, and B) your particular genius kid isn’t quite the ball of fire you thought. So it goes.

Meanwhile, there were lots of emails from very few people. Almost all of the emails were dumb stuff that had already been answered. We had much discussion in tab about my 10K emails. The theory was that too many emails don’t get read, which countered my theory that too long emails don’t get read, which is why I wrote so many in the first place. I have some ideas on this that I’ll be parsing over the next few days. The goal is to get information to people. The best way to do it is the best way people absorb information. There’s a lot to think about in this. 

There was one tabroom mystery I’m still working on, where a student wasn’t correctly credited in the rounds. More on that TK. 

I did notice fewer issues with hitting Start. Are people finally getting the message? Given that if they don’t hit start we send endless messages to them, their coaches, their next of kin and their family lawyer, maybe they’re beginning to believe that we mean it, and they want those bugging messages to end. I assure you, we don’t send them to people who start their rounds in a timely manner. Maybe we really are evolving into an e-tournament universe. We did e-ballots in all divisions, including speech and congress. In a world where everyone is staring at their phones every waking hour, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that sooner or later they’d adapt. 

Welcome to 2019.   

In which we share our pain

Penn is shaping up as the most complicated tournament I’ve ever worked on.

First of all, there are well over a dozen buildings, many of which are only available part time, on different days. This means that I’ve had to create, in some instances, different room pools for single rounds in some divisions. A different room pool for every round, in other words. Before they toss people out (and, historically, they have tossed people out, so it’s not just empty blathering). The spreadsheet for this is mind-boggling.

Then we’re alternating all the varsity divisions in two hour slots in the same rooms on Saturday. That is, PF gets two hours, then LD and Policy get two hours, then back to PF again. That’ll be fun.

Of course, it would be helpful if every building A) didn’t have the same name, and B) was actually on the map. Or if registration didn't shift buildings at one point. 

Meanwhile:

Q. Where do we park? 

A. You know, I’ve tried parking at Penn. I recommend you walk to the tournament. 

Then there’s the dumb questions. The thing is, if you even just glanced at the headings of the two thousand emails I sent you’d have a hint about what you’re looking for. I don’t expect the dumbest clucks to actually read them—that’s how they achieved dumbcluckdom in the first place, and how they maintain their membership—but when there’s two that say THIS IS THE SCHEDULE, why wouldn’t you wonder to yourself, Hmmm, is this the schedule? Could it be? The problem with dumbcluckdom is that the members are persistent. They don’t send an email. They send multiple emails. Often they offer advice on how I could be running things better. I’m sure they’re right. I mean, just because there’s no rooms after 8 o’clock shouldn’t deter me from scheduling an 8 o’clock round. Then there was the person who was worried about the prediction for snow on Sunday; that email arrived three weeks ago. 

Then there’s all the changes. One team dropped about 20 people after the deadline and blamed me for it, because I had set a deadline. Same team originally lost all their entries back when TBAs were deleted. They made a stink then to get them back in, and another stink when they deleted them all after the deadline. They also claimed a medical emergency, I guess for all 20 people on the team. You’d think I would have read about that one in the papers. Then again, this team always has medical/compassionate emergencies. If their coach’s grandmother dies one more time, I’m going to ask to see the ashes. 

Speaking of which, one judge broke a foot and apparently the team’s coach, who merely wanted to insure that the judge wouldn’t have to walk much, wasn’t sure we’d believe her so she sent along the x-rays to prove it. That’s not a far step from sending the ashes! It does set the bar a little higher for future changes. No x-rays? No changes!

It’s going to be fun to make this tournament happen. Fortunately we’ve got top-drawer tabbers with a sense of humor. They’re all going to need it. 

In which small is beautiful

There is something to be said for the joy of tabbing a small tournament, like Baby Bump. With a big tournament, lots of things just take care of themselves. If you set everything up correctly, all the judges are used fairly, all the pairings are in the same bracket, all the rooms are available, all the schedule slots are correct, and while you may do some slight tinkering improving prefs or pullups, most of your work is getting people to start and end on time. Personnel management rather than tab management. The tab management is in the setups. If you set everything up right, it will mostly play out correctly. We’re not ready to eliminate tab staffs yet, at least not as long as I’m one of them and I want to hang out with my friends and go to nice dinners at the end of the day, but the work is way less labor intensive. At the point where you stop entering paper ballot results, and sorting paper ballots, you’re halfway home—literally. 

Smaller tournaments can present difficulties, however. What do you do when one school dominates a division? When there’s no one for that school to debate? In one case, LD, I had four 3-0s from the same school, and the next contestant was a 1-2. It might have been possible to pair everyone, maybe, but there wasn’t much question that the 4-0 school was going to win, and it made much more sense for the kids looking for rounds for them to have those rounds be competitive. So I byed the top 4. Stuck a fork in them, because they were done. 

Another division was larger, so I had more room to maneuver. Here I would have a lot of single pullups if I didn’t have side restraints. Well, in that case, I just eliminated the side restraints for the 4^thround. You had to go on the same side again one too many times? Tough. But you got competition. And after all, a tournament for first and second years is all about getting rounds. The best way to get good is to get experience. If there’s some other way to get good, I’m not aware of it. 

Meanwhile, I had judge issues, as in, not enough for LD. Well, it’s young ‘uns, so any experienced PF judge ought to be able to handle them. I only had to do this for one round, and there wasn’t too much hoo-ha from the Peanut Gallery. The exigencies of making things work outweighed the “But I don’t know anything about LD” complaints. And after all, as far as LD in 2019 goes, who does know anything about it? At the highest levels it’s so fast and tediously arcane that whenever I read articles by active judges and coaches, I can’t make any sense out of them. Having been raised on debating the topic—talk about a dinosaur concept—I’m totally lost nowadays. So our poor poor pitiful PF judges can be similarly at sea for an hour or two. The world won’t end for anyone as a result. 

Friday Arts (on a Friday, no less)

Movies first, quickly.

The Greatest Showman — I like Hugh Jackman, but I also like movies where there's more than one song (or what sounds like one song) and more than one choreography for that (those) song(s). I also like dances where dancers move their feet. And CGI sets that are at least marginally believable. I can't imagine why this was a big hit.

The Favourite — Wonderful, start to finish.

Stan and Ollie — In a world where most young people don't know who Laurel and Hardy were (and for that matter, probably don't know anything about movies before 1980 except maybe Disney flicks), this is a sweet joy to watch. Sadly, most people won't watch it. The actors are spot on.

Then music. Here's the latest additions, or not, to the Tab Room playlist on Spotify.

Scotch and Soda, The Kingston Trio, eponymous album — There was a time when the Kingston Trio was all the rage, and I only threw this in for nostalgic reasons. I saw them perform live when I was a kid. Stuff like that sticks with you. I like others of their songs too, but one is enough in a rock playlist.

Grazing in the Grass, The Friends of Distinction, Grazin' — Another nostalgic goody from AM radio. Does anyone still listen to AM radio?

Cosmic Thing and Love Shack, The B-52s, Nude on the Moon — I want to like the B-52s more than I do, but most of the time their songs are sort of bland and go on way too long. Still, these are a couple of hits that it won't hurt to hear now and then.

10 Rocks, Shelby Lynne, Identity Crisis — Lynne can pretty much be said to defy category, but if you had to place her anywhere, it would be modern Country. She did win Best New Artist in that genre with something like her 100th album. Anyhow, she does get a good one off now and then that fits here. My favorite work of hers is her Dusty Springfield tribute album.

I Can See Clearly Now and You Can Get it if You Really Want, Jimmy Cliff, We All Are One – I guess you could call these MOR standards. But that doesn't make them bad.

Crumblin' Down, Authority Song and Lovin' Mother For Ya, John Mellancamp, Uh-HUH! — Still introducing myself to JCM, and enjoying it. From some vantage point he's the poor man's Springsteen, but, then again, so is Springsteen. He can rock, though, when the situation calls for it.

Come to the Sunshine, Harpers Bizarre, Feelin' Groovy — This is the version of the song that sticks in my mind. To be honest, I'm not familiar with the original (which I just added to a different list to give it a listen), but I am a Van Dyke Parks fan, and will champion the album "Orange Crate Art" until the day I die.

Don't Let Go, Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen, We've Got a Live One Here — I just had this song going through my head, and tracked down my favorite version of it. The Commander has more live albums than, as my mother used to say, Carter has little liver pills, and all of them seem to be the same songs in performances of varying success levels. I first saw him in the 70s at the Bottom Line. And then I saw him a couple of years ago in a local club with his East Coast Airmen. Hell of a show. And lots of fun.

Western Union, The Five Americans, Best of... — Another single from the AM era.

You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet, Bachman-Turner Overdrive, Not Fragile — A nice classic rock standard from a group I never paid any attention to. But I liked listening to this album.

Synchronicity I, Synchronicity II, and Every Breath You Take, The Police, Synchronicity — If you like the Police, you like these songs. I like the Police.

Maybelline, Foghat, eponymous — The name Foghat has always been familiar to me, but this is the first time I've given them a listen. They're quite good, and I look forward to listening to the rest of their albums. Very straightforward rock with lots of originality (although I seem to be refuting that by selecting a cover song).

Let the Wind Blow, Aren't You Glad and Wild Honey, The Beach Boys, 1967 Sunshine Tomorrow  — I guess this is supposed to be the collector's version of the Wild Honey album. There's more outtakes and alternates than real music, which is true of way too many Beach Boys albums. I really don't need to crawl into Brian's mind and never come back, or into the group's mind without Brian; I can never keep track of when he's with the group and when he isn't. Still, a fan can always find a good cut on any of their albums.

Just Like Paradise, David Lee Roth, Skyscraper — No, I refuse to apologize for adding this one. So sue me.

I Can See for Miles, Heinz Baked Beans, Mary Anne With the Shaky Hand and Tattoo, The Who, The Who Sell Out — In my opinion, this is one of the very best of the group's albums, tied with "Who's Next." The first time I saw them Townsend was still, albeit perfunctorily, destroying his guitar. The next time I saw them they played for hours, first doing all their hits and then, after a break, doing "Tommy." Watching Keith Moon play the drums was exhausting. Keith Moon died in the same apartment as Mama Cass. The apartment belonged to Harry Nilsson. That is my favorite piece of rock trivia.

And the albums that didn't make the cut:
Lucinda Williams, Ramblin' — Great stuff, but not for this playlist.
New Riders of the Purple Sage, Powerglide — Ditto. Way too country.
Paul McCartney, Egypt Station — I already grabbed "Come On to Me" when it was a single. The rest? OK, not memorable.
George Harrison, 33 & 1/3 — Again, OK, not memorable. George always sounds just like George.
Golden Earring, On the Double — Dreadful stuff. How did this get on my list?
Franki Valli and the Four Seasons, Born to Wander — The boys go the Dion/Darrin folk route. Not a good direction for any of them.
David Bowie, Tonight — I keep listening to Bowie in order. I know he'll get good eventually—I love the "Let's Dance" album—but God knows when.
Neil Young, Tonight's the Night — Well, no it isn't. Whiny Neil, not rocky Neil.
Stray Cats, Blast Off — Better title would be Running Out of Steam.