Pass or Fail?

By Jim Hagarty
2014

If you live in the United States and you would prefer not to be shot, a good course of action might be to not sign up for a gun safety class. Last week, a Florida man accidentally shot himself in the leg just after leaving such a class. Last year in Ohio, a gun safety instructor accidentally shot a student during class. And in 2012, a Virginia man accidentally shot himself and his wife during a gun safety class.

Imagine showing up early for your gun safety class, all scrubbed up and shiny, pencil case and notebook in tow, all ready to go. The teacher comes in, says, “Good morning class”, writes a few things on the blackboard, takes out his gun and then turns around and shoots you.

A few questions here. If you can’t complete the course on account of, you know, being dead, do you pass or fail? Does the teacher get a cut in pay or is he forced to take some retraining and what if he gets shot during his retraining class?

Now, if you are a gun teacher’s wife, is it advisable for you to accompany hubby to class where he shoots you and himself? Who drives home? How does a teacher review board assess a gun safety teacher who shoots his students, his wife, or himself? Are there different ratings based on the level of injury or who it is that gets shot? Five points off for a student, three for a wife, two for yourself? Does this affect enrolment in the class next semester?

Would students shy away from a class in which they might get shot? I am guessing, in certain parts of the United States, that probably wouldn’t put them off a bit.

Recently, a suicide bomb instructor accidentally blew himself and 22 of his students up. How would you rate a teacher like that? He certainly showed his class exactly how it should be done. I used to teach and while I did have my good moments, I was never as thorough as that.

Somewhere in the world, at least once, a person who just moved into a new neighbourhood was run over by the Welcome Wagon. Oh cruel irony. You suck!

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.