(In April of 2004, members of Lovett College gathered to celebrate two extraordinary individuals, John Casbarian and Natalye Appel, who were completing their tenure as Masters of Lovett College. I had been a Resident Associate at Lovett since 1994 and, like others present that evening in April, wanted to acknowledge the contributions John and Natalye had made to Lovett College and to the lives of the people who lived there. I wanted to recognize them in a way that spoke not only to their cosmopolitanism, but in particular to their consistent admiration of and profound reverence for all things French. I delivered what follows below.)

Ladies and gentlemen, or rather, mesdames et messieurs! Willkommen, bienvenu, welcome to our soiree! I would have wished you bon appetit but, alas, you’ve already eaten. I hope you enjoyed the hors d’oevres and haute cusine prepared by our own Monsieur Chenco. If you’d like a demitasse or perhaps an apéritif, just write your request on a $20 bill and pass it up here.

Isn’t it lovely in Paris this time of year? À propos of nothing in particular, this is all somewhat déja-vu, isn’t it? At events of this kind, where we wish bon voyage, a few words from friends and colleagues are of course de rigueur. And so Lovett, being anything but gauche, will this evening, en masse, partake of this genre of bidding adieu. It’s an occasion to share, if I might be so bold as to drop the name of Proust (who, by the way, was French), a remembrance of things past, to highlight certain pieces de resistance, to recall in good humor a faux pas or two, to amuse with doubles entendres and expect entertaining repartees. But I digress.

Four years ago we were faced, suddenly and quite unexpectedly, with unusual circumstances: the prospect of being sans Masters. Lovett had to deal with what at that time seemed to be a coup de grace. Esprit de corps was waning, the future resembled a cul-de-sac. We feared Lovett might be assigned a perfunctory chargé d’affaires as a stop-gap measure. But, responding to the urgency of our situation, and following a transatlantic tête-a-tête via cell phone, John and Natalye agreed, with characteristic savoir-faire, to become the new Masters of Lovett College. And for this decision, we are grateful.

You have to wonder what that long-distance communiqué involved. Did John and Natalye understand at that time that they would be living among the créme de la créme of Rice? Could they appreciate the raison d’être of College Masters? Or did they fear becoming simply an au pair for 230 students, or worse, descending into the demimonde of college life? Was their decision ultimately influenced by a favorable force majeure or a sudden and inexplicable folie à deux? These are questions Lovett historians of the future will have to wrestle with.

Let me turn to the petite ones, who leave not quite as petite as when they first arrived. Claudia and Julia, we hope you’ve enjoyed your time here. You’ve shared with us some of your formative years and your joie de vivre, as only young people know how.

Natalye Appel, neé Appel, has that certain je ne sais quoi that made her a perfect fit for Lovett. The events she arranged in the Commons and at the Lovett House were a tour de force and a pleasure for all involved.

And John, enfant terrible of the College Masters, defender of the avant-garde, musically hip and au currant, wearer of things black and white (or, alternatively, white and black) and Beatle boots that were the dernier crí in the Sixties and even now, thanks to postmodernism, have not yet been rendered démodé.

In truth, both John and Natalye are bons vivants, connoisseurs of fine foods, fine wines, fine buildings, and fine values. We saw in their tenure at Lovett the fundamental principles of democracy at work, principles, principles, as we all know, that were most forcefully expressed in the French Revolution (which, by the way, took place in France): liberté, egalité, fraternité. Although, when circumstances warranted, these principles had to be construed somewhat differently, something along the lines of sobrieté, legalité, and who will pay.

John and Natalye showed respect for students by practicing a policy of non-interference, better known in English as laisser-faire. Unless of course there was something that couldn’t be laissezed had to be faired, like the occasional agent provocateur, or maybe some faux IDs, or the overindulgence of the perennial debutants of alcohol. But did they despair? Au contraire. In the face of all this, they succeeded in bringing to Lovett a sense of refinement and haute couture.

In looking for the mots justes for this occasion, I’ve given myself carte blanche, and en route I’ve probably used a few words this evening that may not be altogether familiar. And yet, if I were to translate, I think I could be of little help, much like the waiter who, when asked what the soup du jour is, responds: “Oh, that would be our soup of the day.” You see, as comedian and film star Steve Martin, also author of the recent and most excellent Lovett production of Picasso at the Lapin Agile, noted early in his career: “Boy, those French, they have a different word for everything!”

So, in plain English: thank you, John and Natalye, for your kindness and consideration, your support and understanding, your generosity, your forthrightness, your firmness when it was needed, your sense of discretion to know when it was not, your attention to both detail and the big picture, your ability and willingness to accommodate and adapt. In sum, you have been Masters par excellance. We hope you will take with you many treasured souvenirs, and we say to you a heartfelt merci. À vos santé!