13 July—Back when the Wamogo-Litchfield shidduch was announced with unbridled (if not unprecedented) enthusiasm, we were among the cynics who predicted the honeymoon would be short-lived. But first, “shidduch” is the Latin word for an arranged—and, of course, negotiated—marriage. The shadchonim—(singular “shadchan,” Latin for marriage brokers—were beside themselves in touting the savings for taxpayers to be realized by the marriage of convenience made in heaven. As well as the incidental benefits to educating the kids of Goshen, Litchfield, Morris, and Warren who are fortunate enough not to be shipped off to private schools.

So Wamogo and Litchfield were officially united till death do them part as Regional School District 20 just under a fortnight ago on 1 July. But there was tsuris—Latin for tsuris—even in the premarital bed about athletic coaches. And it’s not unlikely that had it been possible in the circumstance, the union would have been foreclosed. Because it’s well-known and commonly accepted that sports are the most important facet of education at all levels.

But the coach debacle, while causing some residual resentment that will probably dissipate within two decades, gave way to tsuris of greater moment, the stuff of lots of marital discord: Gelt, Latin for money. Litchfield and Wamogo kicked one another out of the premarital bed over that one. And the shadchan-in-chief—the superintendent of schools for Litchfield, Wamogo, and Region 20—saw fit to bugger off and leave his former clients to their own devices, such as they may be.

That was before the scheduled marriage, mind you, even before the honeymoon had begun. But now that the less-than-happily married couple have had a chance to get to know each other a little more intimately on the honeymoon, the gelt tsuris is even more of a problem. In fact, it’s now gelt guilt.

To repeat, we were among the nasty cynics who, although supporting the match, had predicted the Region 20 honeymoon would be short-lived. But this is absolutely ridiculous. Did any of the parties involved—school boards and administrators, consultants, accountants, and who the hell knows what highly paid experts and specialists hired for the purpose—actually bother to go over the accounts, spreadsheets, and everything else they were supposed to know inside out—simply perform due diligence—before certifying the consolidation?

As far as we know, Litchfield Selectman Jeff Zullo is the only person who ever raised any questions about the accounts. Everyone else appears to have been part of a daisy chain of trust, ignorance, and incompetence. And they must be made to answer for it . . .