It’s going to sound strange to some of you, but you should know that I’m the first person in the history of my family to own a rifle.

At least, as far as I know. But it’s a pretty good bet. My ancestors settled in the crowded tenements of big cities like New York and Washington, where there were practical, if not legal, reasons for avoiding firearms. Back in the Old Country, they were actually forbidden. The language my people spoke, Yiddish, a form of Low German sprinkled with Hebrew words, didn’t even have a word for “gun.”

Imagine, for a moment, that you don’t have a word for “gun.” In your mind, a gun is a wonder tool which probably doesn’t even exist, except in legend, where it instantly takes the life of anyone who dares to touch it.

The fact that I have one is something of a scandal to our family and friends. I’ve tried to explain that it’s a tool, not much different from a wrench or a wheelbarrow. The difference being that it’s a lot harder to blow someone’s head off with a wheelbarrow.

I’ve come to understand that a gun is really a necessity in the country. Especially if there are groundhogs. Lots of groundhogs. Fewer these days, thanks to the rifle. But still too many.

Groundhogs are clever. Their strategy is to drive you insane with the clever placement of their holes. Like, for instance, directly underneath your Hustler mower. I went out to the shed a couple of weeks ago, only to find our mower’s front wheels up in the air, and the rear wheels nowhere to be seen. It was literally being swallowed by the earth.

I’m not crazy about shooting groundhogs. Although these days, I do find myself pretending to shoot them alongside the road while I’m driving. But hey, it’s either them or me.

In my mind, there’s a big difference between “varminting” and “hunting.” If I were of a mind to hunt, there are plenty of temptations on our property. Shermans Creek is practically a waterfowl superhighway. Deer love it, too. We’ll see deer from time to time, although, ironically, we see a lot more deer along the shoulders of the Baltimore Beltway, where it’s illegal to shoot at them.

In a good year, we’ll see wild turkeys, which like to congregate on our next door neighbor’s hill. Oh, and just last week, we heard that our neighbors had chased a black bear off their porch with a shotgun.

We’re thrilled to host to all of this wildlife. Less thrilled to host the hunters who have set up on our property over the years, despite the fact that the land is prominently posted.

I may not be a born hunter, but I am interested in being safe with my gun, which is why I recently signed up to take the hunter education class, offered under the auspices of the Pennsylvania Game Commission. And yes, I’d been warned that my classmates were likely to be a bunch of 11-year-olds.

Lucky for me, there’s an online, independent study option.

I hit the virtual books hard. I learned all about how guns work. So many different kinds, with so many different actions! Who knew that muzzleloaders were full of exotic bits, like the “frizzon” and the “set trigger?”  What creative mind had invented the “cocking stirrup” or the “hen fletching?” A brave new world was opening up to me.

There was a lot of common sense advice about how to handle non-hunters. Be respectful of other people’s property. Good. Don’t tie your kill to the hood of your car. Super. If you do encounter someone who disapproves of hunting, don’t approach that person if you’re angry, smeared with animal blood, and armed with a high-powered rifle.

Like, duh.

Even if you do the bulk of the learning online, there’s still a test to take in person. Which is why I found myself out at the Ickesburg Sportsmen’s Association on a recent Thursday night, surrounded by all sorts of unfortunate stuffed critters and a few nervous young people, mainly girls. There was an excellent presentation by Perry County Wildlife Conservation Officer Jim Brown, with help from deputy Fred Schulthies. Then came the main event: the exam. Complete with number two pencils.

Afterwards, I imagined what the test questions might have been like if my great-grandparents had written them:

If crossing a fence while hunting alone, you should _____________.

a. think—really, really hard—about why you’re alone
b. unload the gun, kick it under the fence, then kick yourself for owning a gun
c. call the police and send up a signal flare
d. set the gun down and walk quietly away

True or True: The Surgeon General has warned that owning a gun is a major cause of grandparents’ never visiting again.

a.    True
b.    True

To load or unload a firearm safely, you should always __________.

a. consult an expert, in your case a therapist
b. have a plan “b,” such as attending a good college
c. submerge the firearm in warm water
d. Trick question! Everyone knows that guns explode upon loading or unloading.

Before crossing an obstacle with a firearm, you should ____________ the firearm.

a.    renounce
b.    curse
c.    destroy
d.    donate

Different gauge shotshells should not be mixed together because_________.

a.    shotshells are a known carcinogen
b.    mixing with hunters will only cause you heartache
c.    first you buy a gun, now you’re mixing shotshells?
d.    where will it all end?

This column was published in the Perry Co Times on 02 July 2009

For more information, please contact Mr. Olshan at writing@matthewolshan.com