The little guy near the front row is a dead ringer for Barney Fife, the deputy who worked for television’s Sheriff Andy Taylor in the Town of Mayberry. This guy’s police uniform is loaded with patches and pins. On his belt is the usual: gun, speed loaders, handcuffs, plus a set of nun-chaku used by martial arts folks.

He’s at the Police Academy and this feisty little guy is raring to go. He’s a brand new cop-in-training and his motor is wound up tight.

At the front of the class is Jim Kirby, dean of legal instructors at the Academy. A retired FBI agent, Kirby is considered the state’s leading expert on Fourth Amendment rights—the Constitutional provision that guarantees "the right of the people to be secure...against unreasonable searches and seizures...."

For a cop, the Fourth Amendment is of singular importance if duties are to be performed properly. But Barney is restless this day and bored when Lawyer Kirby writes on the blackboard such legal terms as "curtilage" and "expectation of privacy."

What Barney really wants to do is learn about handcuffing and forcible take-downs. Barney longs to be on the pistol and shotgun ranges and the pursuit driving course. Suddenly Barney blurts out: "How long are we going to spend on this Fourth Amendment crap? When we gonna learn about real po-leece?"

Quicker than you can rack a 12-gauge shotgun, Lawyer Kirby spins around, nearly swallowing his cheek-full of Redman tobacco. You can see the muscle pulsing along Lawyer Kirby’s jawbone. But this veteran lawman is a model of restraint. He doesn’t explode. Instead he goes on teaching rookie cops how to take punks off the streets without abusing citizen rights we all enjoy.

What about Barney? Well, it turns out that he can’t shoot any better than he can think. Halfway through the 10-week course Barney decides he’d rather hang Sheetrock with his brother-in-law. Lawyer Kirby applauds Barney’s decision.