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Most of us had lousy teachers at some point. I had a physics teacher who absolutely didn’t understand the subject she was teaching, but she was politically active, so she ended up as president of the state teacher union. I had a chemistry teacher who couldn’t speak louder than a mouse and couldn’t control his class, so I learned nothing. But none of them compare to the basketball coach I had for math in the seventh grade.

I lived on the beach in Pensacola, Fla., that year. (It sounds nicer than it is. All the sand gets really tiresome.) The beach is in the Pensacola city limits, so the beach kids were bused into the city. Every day, our bus drove us through a suburb with good schools and deposited us at terrible schools — filled with bad teachers and unmotivated students from poor homes. It was my only experience in a majority-black inner-city school. It felt strange being one of only two white boys in the seventh grade.

My math teacher was a really likable guy, but he was a basketball coach — and he didn’t care that much about math. Even though we were in the seventh grade, they were just starting long division. Since I’d been in pretty good schools until them — and had already been taught basic algebra at home — the class seemed like a joke. I was bored.

When the coach found out that I knew more about math than he did — and I admitted how bored I was — we made a deal. For a six-week grading period, he turned the class over to me. It was at the beginning of basketball season, so he used the time to prepare for basketball and he handed me the teacher edition of the textbook. For six weeks, I taught the class. I was much tougher than he was, but grades went up. Since we didn’t get caught, it was actually a very fun experience.

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Dear Merlin: I’m a big supporter of President Barack Obama, but I’m worried about his re-election. The Republicans are attacking him and even some of my fellow Democrats are mad at him. Some say Hillary Clinton might stage some sort of coup at the convention. Can you give me any magical advice that I could use to make sure my hero wins in November?

Hopeless Howie in Rapid City, S.D.

Dear Hopeless Howie: I find myself musing as to why, of all the wizards you could approach, you chose to approach a wizard who clearly belongs to a libertarian human. The last thing I need is for David to cease my supply of kitty chow because I helped get Sir Barry back into the … what do you call it? Ah, yes. The White Castle. But since I’m not particularly fond of that dry, crunchy cat fare in the first place, I shall take a bold step and make a few suggestions.

Keep in mind that if any of this works, I may need a new home because David might kick me out; I have ways of finding you and will expect you to return the favor. If it doesn’t work, then I take absolutely no responsibility, as it is entirely likely the Obama camp has wizards working for them, too. That’s the only logical explanation for their presence in Washington in the first place.

Back to the matter at paw, though. It seems you have three issues. The first is the obvious problem with your hero’s lack of, well, everything. But as you seem to be suffering from a bout of delirium regarding that, I shall move onto the other two issues: Hillary seeking to lead Ye Blue Horde, and the opposing party of pachyderms.

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Unless you were hiding under a rock this week, you probably heard that a celebrity died last weekend. Here’s a template for generic celebrity death coverage.

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