I’m in a class now, for work, and it’s supposed to be a basic class. Students are scientists, engineers, and admins and the goal is to make sure we speak the same language. But the instructors – specialists in their areas – are teaching like it’s a graduate course, focusing on minutiae. That’s where the fun is, after all.
About seventy percent of us failed the first test and the hounds went to full cry. Everyone is up in arms, talking fast and loud.
I was corned by a fella, a physicist, who was in the same boat as me: we both failed by a couple points. If a few questions were thrown out we would both likely pass. He was hot as a hornet you keep trying to step on. He was right, too.
But I tend to be a contrarian and always lean toward the easy way. “There’s another explanation,” you know.
“Right,” he said. “The whole program should be revamped. And we need new instructors, too.”
“There’s still another way.”
“Whatca mean, man?”
“Well. I don’t know about you ,but I could have studied more.”
“I studied my ass off all weekend,” he said.
“We could have both got a 97 or 98. Then we wouldn’t care about a point or two that was tested goofy.”
“Yeah, but…” And he walked away.
I thought of politics, and church, and everything else. You can fight about anything. You can argue for an hour about the color of Trump’s hair or about French immigration. But the truth is that there is a lady in your town. She’s been forgotten and doesn’t have enough food left for dinner today. You can find her and buy her a meal. You’ll have to go without your triple-shot coconut latte tomorrow, but you’ll be alright.