Dear (name deleted):
I received your message indicating surprise and disappointment with your final grade this semester. In your message, you said “I did miss several days in your class. I did not mean to miss but I was just going through so much this semester with a death in my family, my house got robbed, fired from my job for being 10 minutes late and my good friend died so i [sic] am sorry for that.”
I am sorry, too. I am particularly sorry that I was hog hunting in South Carolina and was, therefore, unable to respond immediately to your rather pathetic little missive. But before I get to the solution to your problem, let me share with you some of the details of my hunt. After you hear those details, you may decide that you are interested in an extra credit assignment designed especially for you, your special needs, and your fragile feminine feelings.
Yesterday was my first experiment with the Southern tradition of hunting deer by running dogs – I generally prefer to “still hunt” in a deer stand. After wading through a half a mile of swamp (sometimes knee deep) I arrived at a spot that allowed me access to three shooting lanes at the edge of a break in the woods. I sat down on a fallen tree, removed my boots, and dumped the swamp water out in the hopes of getting my toes unfrozen (just in case I had to chase a wounded animal).
About ninety minutes into the hunt, I saw a large black mass that appeared to be a dog paddling across a stream as I watched over my right shoulder. When it got out of the water, I realized it wasn’t a dog. It was a wild boar that weighed about 200 pounds. The boar cut immediately to his left and started heading down a break in the woods that opened up just nineteen yards in front of me.
My heart was pounding because I knew that when he saw me he would want to kill me just as badly as I wanted to kill him. Clearly, within a few moments someone or something was going to die. With a round of three-inch magnum 12-gauge ammunition in the barrel of my Benelli, I aimed at the break in the woods. When he presented me with a broadside shot (his head and neck were blocked by a tree) I hit him with all fifteen pellets of lead.
Just as soon as that boar cut across the open area I was hit with a huge surprise. Another 200-pound boar was right behind him. I kept my composure and fired a fatal shot into the first boar’s gut. He managed to run about thirty yards before I heard him crash in the woods. The second boar cut across my path and headed into a dry portion of the woods. I ran after him only about eight yards into the woods (until I got wrapped up in briars and brush). I had to let that sweating slab of bacon go and start the search for his dead companion.When we all got back to the cabin about seven deer and seven hogs had to be skinned. A couple of hogs had to be left behind because they could not be found and/or dragged all the way out of the woods. Nonetheless, there was enough meat for two hogs to be given to a poor black family that lived in the vicinity.
Hunters are not only our best conservationists. They are among our best humanitarians, too. If the folks at PETA had their say, that poor black family would go without the food this winter in order to make a statement about animal rights.
Shortly after I got home I read your email. I immediately checked my records to see whether there had been a mistake in your grade. There was. The grade of “D-” that you received was an error caused by my inefficiency in using the new grading system. Rather than typing in a grade, we have to scroll through a list of available options. Fortunately for you, my keypunch error meant that I did not give you the grade of “F” that you earned this semester.
After I discovered the error, I rechecked all of my grades and, fortunately, yours was the only mistake. In other words, you are both a) the only person to get a higher grade than he deserved and, b) the only person to complain about his grade this semester.
In my research, I also noticed that you lied in saying you missed “several” classes. To be precise, you missed the final 28 class meetings, which, needless to say explains your failure. This casts doubt on the validity of your death, robbery, and firing stories – none of which I suspect are true. This also reveals a deep flaw in your character that I intend to address with the following extra credit assignment:
After we harvest a hog, we’re going to go give it to one of the poor underprivileged South Carolina black families that - due to racism, segregation, and poverty – have never had the opportunity to pursue a public education. When you meet them I want you to explain why you have squandered opportunities they never had – opportunities like a place in the North Carolina university system where 70% of your education is funded by the public. In other words, I want you to explain to those poor folks your decision to abuse the welfare system despite your white privileged upbringing. After we drop off the free hog, I will give you an opportunity to choose between two alternatives. You may either a) keep the “D-” you did not earn or, b) take the “F” that you did earn. I’ll respect your decision either way. But if you choose option “A”, don’t ever sign up for one of my classes again. Just take a course from one of the feminist professors. They have aborted 1/4 of the males in your generation and seek to turn the other 3/4 of the males into effeminate victims who are dishonest with their professors and afraid of hunting. Think this matter over carefully before you get back to me. Neither I nor our nation can tolerate another of your metrosexual missives. Nor can our nation survive without a revival of emphasis on character, responsibility, and personal integrity.