With longtime Gavilan College President Steve Kinsella planning to retire after the school year, loyal disciples will lead him to the Hollister Elks Lodge after graduation May 27. There, he will expect a brief honor from local Elk people and maybe some Folgers in a Styrofoam cup. Instead, he will face a coordinated roast.
Final Script: Secret Roast for Steve Kinsella’s Retirement
With longtime Gavilan College President Steve Kinsella planning to retire after the school year, loyal disciples will lead him to the Hollister Elks Lodge after graduation May 27. There, he will expect a brief honor from local Elk people and maybe some Folgers in a Styrofoam cup. Instead, he will face this coordinated roast:
A deep voice over the loudspeaker introduces the roastmaster.
“Gentlemen, here tonight we will hold a surprise, inaugural Elks Club Comedy Roast in honor of the esteemed Steve Kinsella, who is retiring after 14 years in the role as dictator (pause deliberately with a clearing of the throat) I mean president of our community college. Also tonight, the local Elks Club has retained a special surprise guest as roastmaster for the festivities. This is really something else. Bring him out, boys—Steve’s long-lost twin brother, Barry Kinsella.”
After an expected gasp from the unknowing crowd and the likelihood of horror on Kinsella’s face, I will jog out from behind a curtain dressed as Steve’s fictitious twin brother Barry wearing khakis, a plain green polo shirt and a modestly mulleted perm wig. As Barry, I will wait for applause to subside before beginning the roast while staring in awe—hands extended in slow, appreciative applause, like Tom Cruise emceeing a Scientology gala—at the fake brother.
“Here we are to honor my twin brother, Steve, a great man who has truly dedicated himself to your communities of Gilroy and Morgan Hill.”
Barry pauses, halfheartedly holding back a smile while adjusting note cards, and corrects the mistake.
“I meant to say residents of Hollister, of course,” he says, shifting toward the college president. “Right, Steve, you love Hollister—don’t you?”
Barry continues peering for 10 solid seconds at Kinsella, seated at the nearby table of honor, waiting for an answer.
At this point, the quiet Kinsella’s blood pressure may spike. With enough important local people looking on, he will have to concede and play along with the shtick by offering his own forced smiles and nods.
“Oh, my dear brother, Steve. Everyone in the family always knew you’d make it big. Everyone knew you’d be a big success.”
Barry goes on.
“Now, did any of us think you’d pull in the Kardashian riches? Did we believe your annual pay would eventually double that of the top earner on the Professional Bowlers Association Tour? We didn’t see that coming.”
After a brief pause, Barry can’t resist, leaning over to Steve for a question but letting the audience in.
“Whattaya say, bro? Tres Pinos Inn after this?”
“All right, enough about the money,” Barry goes on. “After this, though, I do want to ask if you by chance added anything about ‘retirement parties’ in that Bible-sized contract of yours.”
The night’s roastmaster moves along, starting a slideshow highlighting the president’s impacts through the years.
“And we’re just getting started, folks. Here’s a picture of Steve at his first chamber of commerce mixer back in Oh-two. Doesn’t he look so happy there talking to Robbie Scattini next to the appetizers?”
Barry points to another slide showing Steve in a group with the board of trustees.
“This actually reminds me of a question I had for you, my brother. Since those elected board members can hire and fire you, how in the world did you get them to follow your orders like those generals under Kim Jong-Un? We haven’t seen this bold of a power play since Napoleon.”
Barry finds trustees in the crowd to give them more grief.
“Hey old Kent Child, you party animal, you. Tell the truth: What’s really going on in that boardroom?”
(Pause for laughter)
“Is Steve hypnotizing the trustees before every public meeting and forcing them to act out his wishes? Did he threaten you with his long recitations of pi?”
Barry turns back to the retiring president.
“We do know one thing about Steve’s iron-fisted leadership,” Barry says. “It’s his way or the highway, or should I say skyway? We saw it back in 2010 with the Hollister aviation program stationed here at this airport for a half century. Steve didn’t like all the anxiety over a proposed rent hike, so he up and moved the program and its resources down the road to San Martin. It sort of reminded me about the time growing up when Stevie got mad about continually losing in soccer, so he packaged and shipped my ball to a random address in Guam to make sure I’d never see it again.”
Barry mentions how his fake brother’s fixation with Guam also reminded him of Steve’s “passion for Coyote Valley, the ‘Police Academy’ movies, and real police academies.”
“That might explain his decision to funnel a bunch of your tax money into that academy over there halfway to Reno.”
(Pause for long-shot laughs.)
“Steve, you are one sly dude. I don’t know if you’re the best car salesman in the world or a simple accountant who’s just stumbled upon some serious adult muck. Maybe you are worth the three-hundred grand, after all. What do I know?”
“One thing I do know is this,” Barry says. “Steve loves disadvantaged people. How do I know this? For more than a decade now, Steve has fought to keep the future, permanent Gavilan campus as far from the west side of Hollister as possible, right next to Ridgemark Golf & Country Club.”
“See, I get Steve,” Barry goes on, in finishing his roast. “He wants the most impoverished people to face the steepest challenges when attending college classes, even if it means those students would travel about half the distance to the San Benito County campus as they currently do to Gilroy. Steve cares. Steve loves Hollister and all of its residents.”
